How to Plan a Wedding for a Royal Spy Page 6

  “Don’t call him by that vulgar nickname.” Their mother smoothly came to her feet. “I cannot fathom why else he would visit. Goodness knows I never encouraged him to drop in like this.”

  Evie spread her hands wide. “Then why would you wish him to court me? You don’t even like him.”

  “William has done very well for himself,” Mamma said. “He is on the Duke of Wellington’s staff and apparently enjoys the favor of the Duke of York. I imagine he’ll have quite a good career in the military or the diplomatic corps.”

  “You certainly never saw an advantage in his association with his father before,” Evie blurted out. “Quite the opposite.”

  Her mother quelled her with a haughty look. “That is simply not true. My reservations about William always concerned his lack of financial prospects.”

  That was a hum if Evie had ever heard one. Mamma had always objected to Will’s scandalous parentage.

  Eden snapped her fingers. “It’s obviously because Michael’s a Catholic,” she said to Evie. “And because of his politics, too, I imagine. Mamma would rather you marry good old Will, even if he is the by-blow of a prince.”

  “That is enough from you, Eden,” their mother said irritably. “Your father would be most displeased to hear you speaking in so crude a fashion.” She turned her back on her favorite and glowered at Evie. “I want you to be pleasant to Will tonight. No ducking into the corner with Mr. Beaumont to discuss that dreary charity of yours. Try, for once, to be charming instead of acting like the bespectacled bluestocking you are so determined to be.”

  She didn’t wait for an answer but swept to the door, her short train swishing softly behind her. “Gather your things and come down, girls. We don’t want to be any later than we are.”

  “We’ll be right there, Mamma,” Eden said. “I just have to fetch my fan.”

  Evie groaned, wanting nothing more than to climb into bed and hide her head under the pillow. Thanks to Will’s mystifying reappearance, the fragile truce between Michael and her mother would surely collapse. If Mamma had even a hint that someone else might be willing to marry Evie—short of the dustman or the butcher—she would leap on that chance.

  “Lord, what a mess,” Eden said.

  “Thank you for stating the obvious. It’s bad enough that I now have to manage Will, but I’ll also have to keep Mamma away from Michael. The poor lamb was just beginning to think he was actually making headway with her, too.”

  “You’d better spend some time with Wolf if you have any hope of spiking Mamma’s guns. I’ll take care of your gentle-hearted swain if you like.” Eden adopted a martyred expression. “I’ll even ask him to drone on about Catholic emancipation. If that doesn’t show you what a devoted sister I am, nothing will.”

  “That’s not funny, Edie. Michael is the most honorable person I know, and the causes he supports cry out for justice. I’m very proud of him, even if no one else in this family seems to understand why.”

  Eden glided over to rest her hands on Evie’s shoulders. “Darling, I do support him, and you.” Her sister’s cornflower-blue eyes, identical to her own, inspected her with a rare gravity. “But sometimes I wonder if his work is the only thing that’s attracted you to Michael. It’s admirable what he does, but it takes up most of his life and now it’s doing the same with yours. Don’t you want more than that from marriage? You’ve always wanted a comfortable home in the country and children to spoil.”

  A sudden lump formed in Evie’s throat. She could never hide anything from her twin, nor could Eden hide anything from her. It was both the most wonderful and the most frustrating aspect of their relationship.

  “Of course I do,” she forced out, “and so does Michael. But his work is very important to him, and I understand that.”

  “Yes, but I’m worried that his work will always come before you.”

  Evie broke away from her sister and rummaged in her dressing-table drawer for a fan. “Would you rather Michael be a typical young buck, wasting his days gambling and racing his curricle and his nights drinking and whoring? That is how most of the men we know spend their time, isn’t it?”

  Eden scoffed. “Wolf ’s not like that at all. He’s serious, and it’s one of the reasons you got along so well with him. You were like two old scholars in an ivory tower, always reading and discussing things.”

  “And that’s what Michael and I do as well, so I would think you would like that. Would like him.”

  “I do like him. It’s just that I don’t think you love him,” Eden insisted. “Not truly. Not that way you want to love and be loved.”

  Evie sighed. She adored her twin, but she was like a mastiff with a bone once she got an idea in her head. “You mean like the way I used to love. No, thank you. I do not care to repeat that experience. Michael and I have a perfectly comfortable relationship based on mutual affection and interests. I wish for nothing more.”

  “Ugh. That sounds ghastly.”

  “It does not—”

  “Yes it does, and you know it,” Eden interrupted. “You’d never be happy in such a tepid relationship. You’ve always been passionate about things, about people, no matter how much you try to hide it. But you’re not passionate about Michael Beaumont.”

  Eden took a deep breath, as if steeling herself for an unpleasant task. “Darling, don’t bite off my head, but I think Mamma is partly right. I think you are settling for Michael, and that worries me.”

  The lump that had been forming in Evie’s throat now felt like a rock. She sank back onto the padded silk stool of her dressing table. “But what else can I do? Spend the rest of my life here with Mamma ordering me about? As imperfect as life with Michael might be, I truly cannot envision spending the rest of my days with our mother.” She peered up at her sister. “You don’t want to spend the rest of your life with our parents, do you?”

  Eden gave an insouciant toss of her head. “I can handle them, though I agree it’s not an ideal situation. Then again, neither is marriage.”

  “That doesn’t leave you with many options, now does it?”

  Eden began wandering around the room, inspecting the Staffordshire figurines of Robin Hood and Shakespeare on the mantelpiece, and then the books on the small table next to the reading chaise.

  “Well?” Evie finally prompted.

  Her twin flashed her a dazzling smile, her eyes glowing with the vibrancy and zest for life that had attracted so many suitors over the years. “You know I’ve always wanted to travel, perhaps to Egypt or even India. I have to get married someday, but wouldn’t it be wonderful if I could marry an explorer? I think it would be grand fun to see the pyramids and the temples of Luxor, don’t you?”

  “No,” Evie said in a blighting tone. “It’s so hot in those countries, and you hate the heat even more than I do.”

  “Now you’re just being beastly.”

  Evie smiled at her sister’s comical grimace. Her twin did hate the heat, and Evie couldn’t imagine her dealing with the dust, disease, and other difficulties of foreign travel. But, selfishly, Evie couldn’t bear the idea of Eden having grand adventures and leaving her behind. It would leave a tremendous hole in her life that Evie feared she’d never be able to fill.

  She collected her fan and gloves and stood up. “We’d better go. I’m sure Mamma is breathing fire by now.”

  Eden glanced at the clock on the mantel. “Oh, confound it, you’re right.” She dashed through the connecting door to her room and returned a moment later with her fan.

  They hurried down the hallway of the wing that housed the family apartments. When they reached the top of the broad staircase leading down to the front hall, Eden stopped her.

  “Evie, what are you going to do about Wolf? You know Mamma’s going to keep on about this. She’ll do everything she can to throw you together. I wouldn’t be surprised if she nipped in to change the place cards in the dining room so that you’re sitting next to him.”

  “Drat. I hadn’t thought of that
, but I’m sure you’re right. It would be just like Mamma to do something so annoying.” She thought for a moment. “We need to find out why Will’s here. I refuse to believe he has any interest in courting me, but something’s definitely off. He was acting oddly out there on the lawn.”

  Eden started them both back down the stairs. “Leave it to me. I’ll get the truth out of him, by hook or by crook.”

  Knowing Eden’s methods, that sounded rather alarming. But Evie did need to know what Will was about. Even though she hadn’t seen him in years, she still knew him well enough to form a clear sense he was hiding something. If she could find out what it was, then she would be in a much better position to manage both him and her mother.

  “Well, all right,” she replied. “But please refrain from anything too outrageous.”

  Eden winked at her. “You must be thinking of some other sister of yours.”

  When they reached the bottom of the staircase, Eden pushed her toward the drawing room. “Tell Mamma I’ll be along in a minute.”

  Evie frowned at her. “Where are you going?”

  “To the dining room. I need to check out the seating arrangements.”

  “Mamma won’t like it if you reorder things.”

  “Pish,” Eden scoffed. “Just leave everything to me.”

  Chapter Five

  As Will bowed to the fourth matron Lady Reese had introduced him to, he realized it was another indication that Evie’s mother had taken him on as her special project. For some inexplicable reason, she’d latched onto him as soon as he’d set foot in the drawing room, dragging him through the rapid round of introductions that focused on guests with the most distinguished titles. She avoided the younger people, particularly the unmarried girls. Will found that most interesting.

  Unfortunately, Lady Reese’s obsequious attentions had thus far prevented Will from getting close to his target, Evie, who didn’t seem particularly interested in talking to him in the first place. Lady Reese had been gradually working him around the room in an obvious slow pursuit of her daughter, but Evie had adroitly avoided getting trapped. She’d learned long ago how to avoid her mother, and that particular skill was on full display tonight.

  Actually Will had a feeling that Evie was doing her best to avoid him.

  He could feel his pleasant expression slipping as he watched Evie take Michael Beaumont’s arm, all but snuggling up to him. Beaumont seemed equally entranced with her, and Will had to give him credit for looking past the self-effacing exterior to the woman within. Evie had been deemed a wallflower years ago, her quiet manner and inability to engage in social inanities sealing her fate. Her insistence on wearing spectacles didn’t help either, although he knew how much she hated having to squint at everything like a dreary old mole, as she’d once called herself.

  Still, it had been something of a shock to see her this afternoon. The spectacles, combined with her drab gown and plain hairstyle, had made her look like a disapproving governess, not the sweet-natured, loving girl he’d grown up with. It seemed as if all the joy of youth had been drained from her. Standing next to Eden—who was still larger than life and full of energy—had made the change all the more apparent.

  But tonight, Evie was more the girl he remembered, younger and prettier in a gown of antique gold that burnished the highlights in her honey-colored hair and softly draped a surprisingly lush figure. Evie and Eden had always been sturdily framed girls, but they’d both grown into what could only be described as magnificent figures. But unlike her twin, whose bosom was on ample display, Evie made little effort to capitalize on her physical charms.

  Not that Michael Beaumont apparently needed any additional encouragements. In fact, he gazed at Evie with a smile so fatuous it made Will clench his teeth.

  The light tap of a fan on his arm recalled him to his surroundings. He blinked as he took in Lady Reese’s arched, haughty eyebrows and the expectant expressions of Lord and Lady Portmire, an elderly couple he’d met only a few minutes ago.

  “Well, William, what do you think of Lord Portmire’s suggestion?” Lady Reese asked with a touch of asperity. “Do you think his lordship, the Duke of Wellington, would agree?”

  Good God. He’d completely lost the thread of the conversation. Will rarely had difficulty taking part in conversations while keeping his eye on a target—it was elementary spycraft—but Evie was throwing him off his game.

  Either that or he’d forgotten how truly boring conversation at an English house party could be.

  “Ah, as to that, Lord Portmire,” he started to hedge, “I think—”

  A strong hand landed on his shoulder. “Ah, there you be, laddie. Lord Reese and Lord Quarterman are wantin’ to talk to you about something verrry particular, so ye’d better come along with me,” Alec said in a hearty and entirely inconsistent brogue.

  From the sour look on Lady Reese’s face, she thought that keeping the host waiting was preferable to interrupting the hostess. But since Alec was the wealthy grandson of an earl, she finally managed to rearrange her elegant features in a stiff smile.

  “Of course, Captain Gilbride, you and William mustn’t keep my husband waiting. But before you dash off, let me introduce you to Lord and Lady Portmire.”

  Will had to hold back a groan when his cousin planted a flourishing kiss on the back of Lady Portmire’s hand and paid her an extravagant compliment. Apparently, elderly ladies were no more immune to Alec’s charm than the average deb or Spanish innkeeper’s daughter.

  “Oh, Captain Gilbride,” Lady Portmire trilled, “you do look so dashing in your Scottish regimentals. And I love that, that . . .”

  When she waggled a finger in the direction of Alec’s groin, Will swore he could hear Lady Reese’s molars grinding together.

  “Sporran, my lady,” Alec answered, giving the old woman a roguish wink.

  Lady Portmire let out a surprisingly girlish giggle. “Oh, my dear captain, I do hope you’re sitting next to me at dinner this evening.”

  Lord Portmire gaped at his wife, clearly stunned by her behavior.

  “We can only hope, my lady,” Alec replied. “And, now, if you’ll excuse us, duty calls.” With that, he took Will’s arm and decisively pulled him away.

  “I take it that Lord Reese does not, in fact, desire our company,” Will said.

  “Of course not,” Alec said. “I was just saving yer arse.”

  “Will you please leave off playing the noble son of Arran? It gives me a headache when you do that.”

  “You’re not the only one,” Alec said. “But it does work wonders with the old ladies. Aye, and with the young ones, too.”

  “After that performance you’d best hope you’re not sitting next to Lady Portmire at dinner. I suspect she’d have her hands all over your sporran.”

  “Thank you for the unnecessary warning, but I suggest we turn our minds to business. Have you talked to Beaumont yet? Because I haven’t been able to get near the man. Miss Whitney seems to be guarding him like a mamma cat with only one kitten.”

  “I’ve yet to be introduced. Lady Reese has been parading me around the drawing room for the last half hour, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

  “I have.” Alec swiped a goblet of wine off the tray of a passing footman. “You said she didn’t like you, so that’s a bit odd, don’t you think?”

  “I do think, but I can’t worry about that now. I have to spend some time with Beaumont—and Evie.”

  “Let’s deploy a new tactic. We’ll circle round and come at them from opposing sides. Trap them in the gully, so to speak.”

  Will didn’t much enjoy approaching Evie like he would an enemy, but he nodded his agreement. Alec wandered off at an angle, as if heading to speak to Lord Reese, before casually strolling around to come up behind Evie. Will, meanwhile, made a head-on approach.

  When he was still several feet away, he could see Evie’s shoulders go up around her ears as if she sensed him nearing, even in the midst of a serious conversation with
Beaumont. She turned her head, snagging Will’s gaze. Behind the glint of reflected candlelight on her spectacle lenses, her eyes widened with dismay.

  Damn.

  Aside from her evident distrust making his job more difficult, he hated the idea that she wasn’t comfortable around him. He supposed it was inevitable given the years apart and the way he’d disappointed her, but he didn’t share her unease. From the first moment he’d seen her today, he’d been overcome by a sense of familiarity so strong it had robbed him of breath. Was it merely a reactive instinct to returning to his childhood haunts? He’d not felt that way when visiting with Aunt Rebecca only a few weeks ago, but perhaps the sorrow over his uncle’s death had mitigated the cheer of that particular homecoming.

  Beaumont, noticing Evie’s distraction, had broken off and turned to face Will with a puzzled look on his features. When their gazes met, Beaumont’s head jerked back as if he had just sighted the enemy. He moved a step closer to Evie, one hand disappearing behind her back, and Will had little doubt that Beaumont’s hand now rested protectively on her waist. Obviously, the man had good instincts where his almost-fiancée was concerned—a useful if unwelcome bit of knowledge.

  “Wolf . . . Will . . . good evening,” Evie stammered. “It’s . . . it’s nice to see you again.”

  Evie’s awkwardness in company was nothing new. But awkwardness with him was. Will gave her a slight bow and the warmest smile in his arsenal.

  Her smooth complexion pinked up with a pretty blush and her generous bosom rose and fell on a quick exhalation of breath, the plump mounds straining against her bodice. It took a great deal of willpower on his part to resist the temptation to take a longer glance down.

  “I’m glad I accepted Matt’s invitation,” he said. “It’s been like coming home, seeing Maywood Manor and all my old friends.”

  Her full mouth thinned into a narrow line as she transformed from flustered to annoyed in the space of one breath. “One could wonder that you didn’t make the trip sooner, but never mind. I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself. Certainly my mother seems happy to see you.”