Twice the Temptation (18 page)

 
Redmond seized her hand, smothering her fingers with damp kisses. “I do adore you, Miss Munroe. You know that.”

 
Of course she did; he’d made it extremely clear on every possible occasion. “I know your feelings, my lord,” she said, freeing her hand. “You’ve never hidden
them from me.” She sent the marquis a sideways glance. “Goodness, I hadn’t realized how warm it is in here.”

 
“I’ll fetch you a drink,” the earl said, nearly growling at Connoll, and trundled off into the crowd.

 
“I can see I still need some practice, if Redmond can outsycophant me,” the marquis noted easily.

 
“If you two will excuse me,” her father put in, “I’ll go see if Lady Munroe requires anything.”

 
Once they were alone, Connoll spent a moment gazing down at her, his eyes promising things she knew he didn’t dare say aloud in a crowded ballroom. Warmth began again between her legs.Good Lord .

 
“How was your quadrille?” he asked, lifting his head to glance in the direction Redmond had vanished.

 
“Brief.”

 
“Ah. Do you wish an extended dance, then?”

 
“Not with Lord Redmond,” she muttered, reaching out to wrap her fingers around his warm sleeve. “I can’t remember where the sweets table is,” she improvised, to cover this new desire to touch him. “Do you?”

 
“Not a clue. Shall we have a look?”

 
He hadn’t offered to guide her or show her the way, which she considered promising. Evidently he realized that she wouldn’t be led about like a dog on a leash. Of course, neither would he be—which she considered to be a fault on his part. Probably.

 
“What did you and my father discuss?” she asked.

 
“Is that really what you want to talk about?” he murmured back, drawing her closer against him.

 
“Do you expect I should become moon-eyed and hang on your every syllable as though gold dripped from your lips?”

 
The marquis snorted. “That would be rather messy, wouldn’t it? Very well. We discussed you.”

 
“Me. A price, perhaps?” So he’d made the same mistake as Redmond and gone to the wrong parent for permission for…for whatever it was he wanted from her. “Not a confession, I hope.”

 
“I’ve no wish to cross swords with your papa, Gilly. The conversation was private, but we did touch on your likes and dislikes.”

 
As if her father knew anything about her. “And?” she asked anyway. “Did you come to any interesting conclusions?”

 
“Everything about you is interesting.” He leaned closer. “I look forward to further exploration.”

 
“What—” She had to clear her throat. “What makes you think I’ll allow further exploration, as you call it?”

 
“Because you got rid of Redmond the first second you could do so,” he whispered. “I want you to know, Evangeline, that bit in the storage room was my best effort under the circumstances. Given more time and more privacy, however, I don’t think I’ll disappoint.”

 
Disappoint? He’d had her making sounds she’d never dreamed of.

 
He must have read the expression on her face, because he laughed. “What I mean to say, my dear,” he continued in the same low, intimate tone, “is that it gets even better.” His lips brushed her ear. “And I intend to have you again so that I may properly show you. And again after that, to demonstrate that the previous time wasn’t a fluke.”

 
She shivered. His words were just that—words—and yet the tense fire began low in her gut again. “Stop that,” she ordered unsteadily.

 
“No. In fact, now I’m going to describe how we will remove one another’s clothes. We’ll begin with my cravat, because I want to feel your lips kissing my throat. The—”

 
The musicians on the balcony above the ballroom began playing a waltz. Their waltz. “If you continue speaking like that while we’re dancing,” she said, allowing him to lead her onto the dance floor, “I will faint.”

 
“I doubt that,” he returned with a jaunty grin, “but as you wish.” Sliding an arm around her waist, he swung them into the waltz.

 
She’d noted before that he was a proficient dancer, but now that she had something to compare it to, she could say that he danced as well as he made love. And that was quite a compliment to both skills, if she said so herself.

 
“A penny for your thoughts,” he murmured, pulling her closer than was strictly proper.

 
“I was just thinking about the level of your skill,” she admitted, her cheeks warming along with the rest of her.

 
“And what is the level of my skill, if I may ask?”

 
“If you were a student, I would put you at the head of your class.”

 
He laughed again. She liked the way the merry sound lacked the sarcasm that colored much of his speech. “I will merely say thank you, and return the compliment in kind.”

 
“You promised you would tell me about France,” Gilly said, pretending that his comments hadn’t pleased her greatly.

 
“So I did. Very well. Do you want to ask questions, or shall I just tell the entire tale?”

 
“The entire tale, if you please.”

 
“Let me preface this by saying I would prefer that you keep this to yourself,” he returned, holding her gaze.

 
She nodded. “I will.”

 
Connoll smiled. “Thank you. I collect artworks.
Paintings, mostly, but also sculptures on occasion. Usually I’m fairly discriminating, acquiring one or two works each year. Earlier this year, however, one of my…contacts, I suppose you would call him, informed me that his studio in Paris had been raided by Bonaparte’s men, with the paintings that weren’t destroyed being sold for well below their value in exchange for cash.”

 
“Cash. Isn’t that the usual—”

 
“Cash for Bonaparte, which he used for the purchase of weapons. I also began to hear that Wellington had started sending in spies to destroy items of value before Bonaparte could use them to solidify his own standing in France. So I went to Paris and purchased approximately sixty paintings from various artists and even museums. I didn’t wish to see them destroyed or lost to history.”

 
“Sixty paintings?” she repeated.

 
“I would have acquired more, but Bonaparte’s people were trailing me. I didn’t want to be held up as a traitor or as an idiot nobleman who needed to be ransomed back to England, so I bundled up ten crates and slipped home across the Channel.”

 
Something told her he was leaving out a good portion of the danger and intrigue that must have been involved, but she agreed that the Howlett ballroom was not the place to discuss such things. “Where are they now? The paintings, I mean.”

 
“Mostly leaning in my hallways at Addison House. Lord Ivey suggested I loan them to the British Museum, and I may do that with some of the better-known ones. They deserve to be seen, especially considering that I was attempting to save them from obscurity and destruction.”

 
“I would like to see those paintings,” she said.

 
“Because you don’t believe me?” He lifted an eyebrow.

 
Evangeline grinned. “Because I like art.”

 
“Then it would be my pleasure to show them to you.”

 
She liked the way he looked at her, the humor and the interest in his gaze. Redmond and Dapney spent so much time bowing and scraping to her, she wasn’t even certain what color their eyes might be. “Lord Ivey is your friend,” she said quietly, “but you and Lady Applegate were—”

 
“Ivey didn’t—doesn’t—know. And that was before the two of them met,” he interrupted. “And truth be told, I’m more concerned with keeping my friendship than with continuing or renewing any assignation with Daisy.” He smiled. “In fact, over the past few days I’ve been feeling rather grateful that Daisy found someone else.”

 
“Have you, now?”

 
His smile softened. “Yes, I have.”

 
The waltz ended before she was ready, and Connoll placed her hand back over his arm again. “I think we need another breath of fresh air,” he whispered, brushing her ear with his lips again.

 
Her breath shivered. “I don’t—”

 
A hand grabbed his free arm, pulling him to an abrupt halt and nearly overbalancing both of them.

 
“Maintain a proper distance from my daughter, sir,” her mother’s low voice hissed. “I will not see her mauled in public.”

 
Connoll straightened. “Evangeline and I were discussing what time I should bring my phaeton around tomorrow for our ride in the park. Ten o’clock, Gilly?”

 
His expression remained amused, but his blue eyes were colder than ice. Evangeline swallowed, looking from him to her mother. She’d never seen this version of Connoll
before, and despite the fact that his arrogant self-confidence went against everything she was supposed to want in a man, she was struck by the fact that she liked it. His abrupt possessiveness thrilled her and aroused her. “Ten would be fine,” she heard herself say.

 
“You already have an engagement tomorrow morning, Evangeline.”

 
An actual engagement, no doubt, from the hints her mother and Lord Redmond had been dropping all evening. “I didn’t make one,” she said, putting a puzzled expression on her face and wondering how much yelling her mother would favor her with later for being defiant. “Perhaps whoever it is might come by tomorrow afternoon, instead.”

 
“Afternoon.” Her mother looked at the number of people standing within earshot, and nodded tightly. “Certainly. I’ll speak with…I’ll make the arrangements.”

 
“Thank you, Mama.”

 
The diamond glittered against her mother’s neck. Connoll said he thought its curse was a real one, but she still had her doubts. Still, tonight had certainly gone his way rather than the viscountess’s. And considering how he made her feel, and the way she’d abruptly begun looking forward to an outing that hadn’t even existed five minutes ago, Evangeline at that moment decided she would not be wearing the diamond again in the foreseeable future. Or rather, in the unforeseeable future.

 
Chapter 10

 
“Are you certain you don’t wish her to accompanyyou, my lord?” Winters asked.

 
Connoll straightened from scratching Elektra behind her gray ears. “Not today,” he returned, eyeing the butler. “You’re not afraid of her, are you?”

 
“She’s sneaky, my lord. Nearly frightened the wits out of me this morning when she popped out of the silver closet.”

 
“Perhaps I’ll bring someone by to have a talk with her.” Shrugging into his greatcoat, he rubbed Elektra beneath the chin with the toe of his Hessian boot. “You’ve made arrangements to give everyone the day off today, as I requested?”

 
The butler nodded. “Only myself, Hodges, Quilling, and Mrs. Dooley will remain, my lord.”