Twice the Temptation (20 page)

 
She fell into step beside him, while he led the team south toward Grosvenor Street. “What’s wrong? Other than your ill luck with vehicles, of course.”

 
“Check my left pocket,” he said. “Go ahead. Take a look.”

 
Frowning and eyeing him as though she expected a mouse to leap out of his coat, she delicately dipped her fingers into his pocket. A heartbeat later her eyes widened. She snatched her fingers back as if they’d been burned. “What—”

 
“You didn’t put it there, I presume.”

 
“No! But—”

 
“I didn’t put it there, either. I wondered why your mother wanted to speak with me earlier.”

 
“She wouldn’t have put a family heirloom—a very valuable one—in someone else’s pocket.”

 
“Then the alternative is that I stole it from you.” He took a breath, trying to level his temper. “From wherever you were keeping it.”

 
From her expression, she was weighing all the evidence,
his statement against her mother’s knowledge. Finally she blew out her breath. “Why would she do that? It’s worth a thousand pounds.”

 
“Perhaps she counted on accusing me of its theft later,” he suggested, shrugging. “I don’t know. What I do know is that I believe it’s cursed, and I think you do, as well. And so does your mother. If her purpose was to accuse me of foul deeds, she might have put a piece of silverware in my pocket. She wanted me to have ill luck. And as a result, you might have been killed. OrI might have been, which upsets me nearly as much.”

 
For a few moments Evangeline walked beside him in silence. He didn’t know what might be going on in that agile mind of hers, but she obviously had a great deal to consider. And so did he. With a cursed diamond in his pocket every carriage, every unsettled horse became a potential threat—and not just to him. Because the worst thing he could imagine was not injury or death to himself, but separation from Gilly.

 
“Connoll,” she said, her hands clutched together in front of her, “it’s actually cursed, isn’t it?”

 
“This could be a string of coincidences, but it would be a very odd one. So, logical-minded though I try to be, and silly as I feel saying it, yes, I think the diamond is cursed.”

 
“Aunt Rachel said that once the Nightshade Diamond’s been in one’s possession, setting it aside can bring as much good luck as holding it can bring bad luck.”

 
“I’m tempted to throw it into the Thames and risk losing both.” He hit a rough patch of ground and stubbed his toe. “Ouch.”

 
She touched his arm, her fingers lingering there for longer than she needed to make certain he wasn’t going
to fall on his head. “Maybe I should carry it for a bit.”

 
“That depends. What’s your idea of ill luck?”

 
“I don’t think it matters what my idea of luck is. Or yours. It’s whatis good or bad luck for the bearer, whether that person realizes it or not.”

 
Her pretty hazel eyes were thoughtful and serious. “Explain, pray tell,” he urged.

 
“The first time I set it aside, I crashed into you. At the time I certainly didn’t consider the addition of you in my life to be good luck.”

 
“‘At the time’?” he repeated. “Does that mean you’ve changed your mind about me?”

 
“I know I would never expect my own mother to try to cause me ill luck,” she returned. “I know why she supports Redmond’s cause, butshe knows that he can’t—won’t—make me happy. And I’ve recently begun to realize that Ican be happy in a man’s company. A different sort of man than she’s been recommending. And that she left out some things in her lessons on married life.” She sent him a glance. “I still haven’t decided. I have more to contemplate now.”

 
As they walked up the front drive of Addison House, Paris and Benvolio in tow, Connoll hoped to give her even more to contemplate. Being in her presence seemed to give him a fever, a low heat running just beneath his skin, a longing for the deeper warmth of her body around him. One thing was for certain, though: However she made him feel, before he tried a second seduction he needed to get the damned diamond off his person and somewhere safe.

 
Winters pulled open the front door. “My lord, is something amiss?”

 
“No, Winters. I always lead my phaeton team about behind me.”

 
“I beg your pardon, my lord.”

 
“Send Quilling to Brook Street. My phaeton’s there, with a broken axle.”

 
“I’ll see to it.”

 
Connoll looped the ribbons around the hitching post and took Gilly’s hand. “I’m not in, should anyone call.”

 
The butler backed away from the door to allow them entry. “Understood, my lord. The sandwiches are in the morning room.”

 
“Good. Make yourself absent.”

 
With a nod the butler left the house in the direction of the stable yard. Connoll closed the door behind him.

 
“So this was your plan all along?” Gilly asked, hands on her hips as she assumed her usual stubborn pose.

 
He held up one hand. “Follow me.” Without another word he led the way into his office, unlocked the top drawer of his desk and put the necklace inside, then closed and locked it again. Then he handed her the key.

 
“I trust you,” she said, looking from him to the key.

 
“I don’t know what the lingering effects of the Nightshade Diamond might be. In case I drop dead, you’ll be able to show people why. I’ll find you a box to take it home.”

 
He went back into the hallway, but she remained. “Are you going to answer my question?” she asked.

 
“Yes, this was my plan all along. Not the phaeton coming apart or getting my toe stubbed, but yes to the rest of it. I intended to bring you here and show you the paintings, and I intend to remove all of your clothes and have you again.”

 
She looked at him, several expressions warring with one another on her sensitive face. Then she gave an unladylike snort. “You are unexpected, Lord Rawley.”

 
“I will take that as a compliment.” A gray shape darted by him as Gilly left his office. “Your friend remembers you.”

 
“Elektra!” Evangeline bent down and scooped up the kitten. “You kept her.”

 
“I said I would. She likes to try to knock Winters’s feet out from under him, which is an added bonus to her presence.”

 
She smiled at him. It seemed impossible that a few weeks ago she would have been willing to marry Lord Redmond, and would never have looked back. Everything orderly, everything predictable and according to plan. The things she would have missed in her life were only beginning to dawn on her—and these were things she’d realized just in the past eight days. Now, if she made the right decision, she could spend a lifetime being surprised.

 
But her mother obviously opposed Connoll’s suit, to the point that she’d been willing to risk the loss of a very valuable heirloom. A tremor of uneasiness ran down her spine. Was eight days enough to know the character of a man? Could she be certain he wouldn’t become a controlling, demanding monster if eight additional days passed?

 
Redmond or Dapney would be safer, definitely. She could predict every moment of her future in a life with either of them. Butsafe had lately become a less attractive word. And she’d begun to learn a new vocabulary—one that included words likesurprise ,amusing , andromance .

 
“Would you like to see the paintings?” Connoll asked, moving closer to rub Elektra behind the ears. The cat began purring; with him that close to her, Evangeline felt like doing the same thing. What a difference eight days could make.

 
Chapter 11

 
“Good heavens,” Evangeline said, kneeling tolook more closely at the painting leaning in front of her. “This is a Rembrandt, isn’t it?”

 
“You have a good eye.”

 
Many of the others she didn’t recognize, though they had at least one thing in common: They were magnificent. “Connoll, how much did all of this cost you?”

 
He squatted beside her. “A little over forty thousand pounds,” he said matter-of-factly. “If I’d been able to go through completely legitimate channels without the threat of Bonaparte on my heels, I probably could have managed a bit better, but I had already witnessed a handful of them lost or destroyed. I didn’t wish to take the chance.”

 
“You know, some men might attempt to lure naive young ladies into their homes by claiming to have a painting or two.”

 
Connoll chuckled. “Yes, butI would be telling the truth.” He reached over to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear.

 
She shivered again. “Where are your servants?”

 
“Gone for the day.”

 
“You were that certain I would accompany you here?”

 
Connoll leaned in to kiss her softly. Evangeline released Elektra to slide her arms around Connoll’s neck. The question of whether he would be the one to provide her with what she wanted became moot as he sighed against her mouth; at this moment,he was precisely what she wanted.

 
Around them a naked Venus lounged in the company of a Dutch Puritan and a French shepherdess and her flock, all of them watching silently. She smiled. Her mother would absolutely faint if she ever discovered either her daughter’s present location or her actions.

 
“Shall we adjourn to somewhere I’m less likely to put a foot through a Le Moyne?” Connoll murmured, kissing her again.

 
“That sounds reasonable.”

 
Standing, he held out his hands and drew her to her feet. She knew why he’d brought her to his home, and she knew just as clearly why she hadn’t raised one objection once she’d realized where they were going or that he’d sent most of his servants away. Whatever it was about Connoll Spencer Addison that had inspired her to kiss him back that first morning they’d met, pulled her to him even more strongly now. It was as though they were connected before she ever knew of his existence.

 
He twined his fingers through hers and led her down the far hallway to what was obviously his master bedchamber. The deep blues and golds and browns of the curtains and walls and bed hangings spoke of his taste as strongly as did the paintings he’d chosen to hang
inside the large room. Pastorals of exquisite skill, some of them probably centuries old.

 
“What?” he asked, releasing her to close and latch the door.

 
“I don’t know,” she answered truthfully. “I like this room.”

 
Connoll smiled, his gaze on her rather than their surroundings. “Thank you. I like having you in this room.” He stepped closer, tugging on the front of her pelisse to undo the buttons there one by one. “Everything’s more interesting when you’re about, Evangeline.”

 
That was quite possibly the finest compliment she’d ever received. Together with his fingers toying with the front of her gown, his words lifted her so that she could scarcely feel the floor beneath her feet. It was an odd sensation, because in every other aspect she felt so…aware—of her body, of the warmth emanating from the man standing before her, of the cool breeze from the half-open window whispering along her bare arms.