More Than a Stranger: A Sealed With a Kiss Novel (13 page)

Morgan gave her an odd look. “Of course, my lady. Right here on the bed table, as always.”

As they bustled through their morning routine, Evie sipped her chocolate and considered what she would say. The worst-case scenario would be for him to ask at the breakfast table who left a book outside his room. One look at the title and the whole family would know she was the culprit. Her hopes of staying home for the Season would be squashed before they ever even had a chance. No, she had to talk to him—soon, before he could bring it up to her family.

Before she lost her nerve.

Twenty minutes later, Evie was holed up in the bedchamber adjacent to Benedict’s, her ear to the door. As soon as he stepped into the corridor, she wanted to be ready to pounce. Honestly, this was
not
how she envisioned beginning her day. With her stomach in knots and her heart beating like a battle drum, she wanted to get this over with—the sooner the better.

It would really help if she had any idea what, exactly, she would say to the man.
Forgive me, sir, but it appears that I dropped my reading material outside your door while spying on you last night. Do be a dear and return it.
Or better yet,
I’ll give my entire stash of pin money for you not to tell my parents.
Bribery worked on most men, didn’t it? Bribery always worked on Richard, but it was usually in the form of food. Perhaps if the life savings didn’t tempt Benedict, a chocolate scone would.

At last, the footsteps from Benedict’s chamber moved toward the door, followed by the telltale click of the latch sliding open. She counted to three, took a deep breath, and eased open the door. Stepping lightly, she padded into the corridor.

“Why, good morning, Benedict.” Evie cringed as his dark head swiveled in surprise. Even to her own ears, her voice sounded overloud and entirely too forced.

He turned to face her fully, and it was all she could do not to blush. Even though he was fully and properly dressed and standing in the early-morning sunlight, all she could think about was his sweat-soaked bare chest bathed in the glow of flickering candlelight from the night before. For heaven’s sake, how could she ever look him in the eye again? She forced a smile while focusing on his left ear.

“Er, good morning to you, Evie. I didn’t see you there.”

She smiled sweetly. “Oh? I do hope I didn’t startle you. I was just—”
lying in wait for you for the better part of the last ten minutes
— “passing by.”

“Ah.”

She couldn’t seem to think of what to say next. She had rather hoped that when she was face-to-face with him, the right words would come. Alas, she was completely without inspiration. Awkwardness settled uncomfortably between them; yet she still stood there like a proper dolt. After a moment, Benedict took a step toward the stairway. “I was just heading to breakfast, if you would like to accompany me.”

A friendly stroll together might be just the thing to get her powers of speech working again. “Yes, thank you.” See? She was doing better already. As they started forward, she focused on the intricate pattern of the carpet runner. Without the force of his gaze focused on her, her heartbeat settled somewhat.

“Actually, I was hoping to speak with you.” There now, a whole sentence. Perhaps she was only a partial dolt.

“Indeed?” A tendril of warmth infused his voice as he spoke the single word, and she relaxed further. “Well then, you have my entire attention.”

“It’s about last night—”

Before she could finish her sentence, Richard stepped from his chamber down the hall. He saw them immediately and grinned. “Good morning,” he called, shutting the door behind him and heading their way.

Blast it all, now she would lose the opportunity to talk to Benedict before breakfast. Something akin to panic set in. She couldn’t allow him to ruin her plans, to speak of the book, and casually end her dreams. Acting on impulse, she pretended to stumble, dropping down on one knee.

As she had hoped, Benedict rushed to assist her, bending down and offering his arm. “Are you all right?”

He effectively blocked Richard’s view of her, but she knew her brother was fast approaching. She grabbed hold of Benedict’s forearm and squeezed, looking up to him beseechingly. “Please don’t say anything to my family about what you found last night. I’ll explain later, I promise.”

His eyebrows rose halfway up his forehead. She could only imagine what he must be thinking. He opened his mouth to respond but closed it before saying anything. Richard was almost to them now, his boots landing heavily on the carpet runner behind Benedict, and she poured everything in her heart into her eyes. “Please,” she whispered.

Benedict looked down into her eyes, his chocolate gaze unreadable. At the last second, he gave a small terse nod. “I’ll be waiting,” he said, then extended his free hand and wrapped it around her elbow.

Immense relief wilted her body, and she let him tug her to her feet. “Thank you, sir. I can be so clumsy sometimes.”

“Good God, Evie, isn’t it a bit early for swooning?” Her brother’s teasing manner gave no indication he had noticed the exchange.

“Come now, Richard,” Benedict countered. “It’s never too early for a woman to swoon at my feet. I generally like to have at least two such instances before noon.”

Oh, bless the man. He would hold his tongue—for now at least. She rolled her eyes as she was expected to and thought fast to come up with a normal reply. “How easily you mistake stumbling for swooning. I shudder to think of all the young women of your acquaintance whose clumsiness was mistaken for regard. Worse yet if you are the one to trip them.”

Richard laughed, just as she had intended, and they headed down to the breakfast room, chatting and teasing as they went. Her relief of being granted a reprieve by Benedict quickly gave way to apprehension as Evie considered what she would say to the man when they were alone. She chewed the inside of her lip, thinking of the incident. Really, she wasn’t the only one who had some explaining to do. What was it he had been doing in his bedchamber last night? She would never have been drawn to spy on him if it hadn’t been for the mysterious movements and thumping noises.

She watched him as he laughingly responded to something Richard said, that adorable dimple showing up again. Perhaps if she could come up with a proper excuse for the book outside his door, they could have a little time to chat. Purely for investigational reasons, of course. It would have nothing at all to do with his wide, chiseled chest or his disappearing dimple . . . or the lingering tingle where he had grasped her elbow to help her up.

“Benedict,” she said, inspiration suddenly striking her.

The two men turned and looked askance at her. “It occurred to me that you will need a proper mount for the hunt this week. If you like, I can help you find just the right horse for your skill level.”

“Thank you, Evie. I would appreciate your assistance very much. When are you free?”

“I have nothing planned for the whole morning. Would you like to head to the stable block after breakfast?”

Richard looked back and forth between them, his eyes narrowing slightly. “There’s no need for you to worry about finding Benedict a horse, Evie. I’d be more than happy to take care of it.”

Drat—Richard would ruin everything. “Oh really? And pray, when was the last time you catalogued the strengths and weaknesses of our current stock?”

She had him there, and he knew it. After a second pause, he nodded. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. Well, when should we all meet, then? Half eleven, perhaps?”

Blast it all, her brother was not going to make this easy. Evie opened her mouth to tell him in no uncertain terms that he was not needed, but Benedict cut in. “Half eleven sounds perfect.”

It was an effort not to growl in frustration. As they entered the sunny breakfast room, Richard nodded his agreement before heading directly for the sideboard, which was overflowing with eggs, toast and jam, ham, two kinds of scones, and baked apples and cinnamon. Though it smelled delicious, Evie had no appetite whatsoever.

She turned to Benedict and whispered, “Why did you agree to have him join us? I need to speak with you
privately
.”

“And you shall—when we meet a half hour earlier.”

She reared back in surprise. Well, he could be devious when he put his mind to it, couldn’t he? It wasn’t every day someone managed to pull the wool over Richard’s eyes. She pressed her lips together to hold in a giggle. “Well. All right, then.”

He didn’t smile, but a hint of his dimple creased his smooth-shaven cheek. “Until then, my lady.”

Chapter Ten

Happy birthday, Evie. I wish for you a day of riding, a night of stargazing, and all the chocolate scones you can eat. Perhaps someday I may offer my felicitations in person, but for now, please accept the gift I have smuggled to you with Richard’s help. I saw it and thought of you.

—From Hastings to Evie

A
t the appointed time, Benedict waited in the garden, soaking up the bright sunshine as he lounged on a small stone bench. Evie was right; it did smell rather wonderful, though he doubted he would have noticed it if she hadn’t mentioned it before. Taking a deep breath, he leaned back on his hands and glanced toward the house again. She was late.

He could hardly wait to see what she would say to him. When she had looked up at him with those pleading, blue eyes, he knew there was no way he could deny her anything she asked at that moment.

Not that Benedict planned to announce the incident at breakfast, for heaven’s sake. But he rather liked being in a position where she sought out his company.

At last Evie emerged from the house and made her way toward the garden. She looked like the embodiment of sunshine with her cheery yellow gown. He watched her as she descended the terrace steps and made her way toward him. She had a way of moving that managed to seem effortless and alluring at the same time—a sort of natural grace evident in the gentle sway of her hips and in the proud line of her shoulders.

When he could simply observe her like this, the tension in his shoulders eased a bit, and the stress of his life slid away like silk gliding over satin. Of course, he knew it wouldn’t last. The moment they spoke again, the unease would return in force as he tempted fate by being near her.

And it would be worth it.

The pebbles beneath her feet crunched smartly as she approached, a slightly wary smile on her beautiful lips. He rose to greet her, schooling his features to a friendly welcome to put her at ease.

“I apologize for keeping you waiting. Beatrice wanted to chat with me, and I couldn’t very well tell her why I was in such a hurry.”

Beatrice again. Benedict could only venture to guess what the girl wanted to talk about. He cocked his head to the side and murmured, “Oh? Anything interesting?”

Evie’s cheeks bloomed with the most lovely shade of pink. “Merely sisterly conversation. I’m sure it would be of no interest to you.”

The blush was at once beguiling and bedeviling.
What
had the sisters talked about that would bring about such a response? He’d bet his entire life savings that it had something to do with him, but as to what exactly, he hadn’t a clue. If Beatrice had divulged his secret, he would have known it the moment he saw Evie’s face.

Hiding his ravenous curiosity behind a polite smile, Benedict dipped his head. “If you say so, my lady. Shall we head to the stable block?”

He was closer than was strictly proper, and she had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes. The sun bathed her face, setting her eyes to sparkling more brilliantly than any precious gemstone could ever hope to. The long, slender column of her throat was exposed to his scrutiny, and for the briefest moment, he wondered what she would do if he pressed his lips to her pulse.

Her eyes clouded, and she gave her head a tiny shake. “In a moment. Let’s take a turn about the garden. I’d like to explain what happened last night.”

Ah, yes, the book. It was tucked in his jacket, pressing against his ribs; yet he had managed to completely forget about its existence. She was very, very good at making him forget himself. He pulled the leather-bound volume out and handed it to her. “I believe this belongs to you.”

She blushed crimson red—something he hadn’t expected of her—but continued to meet his eyes, nonetheless. Her expression was an odd mixture of embarrassment and relief. It was more than a little endearing.

She took the book from him and sighed, running a thumb over the spine. “I am sorry, Benedict. I heard noises last night on the way back from the library and went to investigate. I’m afraid that curiosity always gets this cat.” She smiled sheepishly up at him.

It was all he could do not to reach out and run a fingertip across her pink cheek. He squeezed his hands into fists at his side, firmly repressing the urge. Instead, he started forward at a slow, leisurely pace, taking a moment to gather his wits. “I figured as much. I didn’t mean to disturb you. It shan’t happen again.”

“You are free to do as you like. Whatever it was you were doing.”

He nodded. “How kind of you to say.”

“And do feel free to use any one of the halls or ballroom for your . . . activities. If you need more room.”

He suppressed a smile. Now she was digging. “Why, thank you. I appreciate the offer.”

She plucked a leaf from a perfectly manicured shrub as they passed by and twirled it between her thumb and forefinger. “We also have various pieces of equipment.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What sort of equipment?”

Her chin lifted slightly, and she regarded him with a hint of frustration. After a few seconds, she said, “If you would tell me what you need, I can tell you if we have it.”