How to Plan a Wedding for a Royal Spy Page 9

  She turned her nose up at Will’s outstretched hand in favor of accepting Michael’s assistance. She gave her well-mannered beau a warm smile—partly to compensate for the instinctive, disloyal response that Will had so easily called forth from some idiotically feminine part of her.

  “I hope you’ll ride next to the curricle,” she said to Michael, ignoring the clearly annoyed male sitting next to her. “Perhaps we can discuss a bit of business instead of wasting the entire afternoon in frivolous pursuits.”

  “If there’s anyone who’s earned an afternoon of frivolity, it’s you,” Michael replied in an earnest manner. “But I’m happy to keep you company. If, that is, Captain Endicott doesn’t mind.”

  “I don’t mind at all,” Will replied with a rasp that sounded rather like a snarl. “If you can keep up, that is.”

  He sprang the horses, enveloping Michael in a cloud of dust. Evie grabbed the side of the carriage, then twisted around to see her beau sneezing into his handkerchief. Eden and her escorts were already cantering in the carriage’s wake, while Captain Gilbride politely waited for Michael to recover and mount his horse.

  “That was rude,” she said sternly to Will. “You almost knocked poor Michael off his feet.”

  His brawny shoulders lifted in an easy shrug. “He was annoying me.”

  “Well, you’re annoying me.”

  He again flashed her that simultaneously disturbing and appealing rogue’s grin. “No, I’m not. I can always tell when you’re truly annoyed.”

  She refused to dignify such a ridiculous statement, staring straight ahead as she adjusted her hat that had been knocked askew by their sudden start. Aside from the fact that Will was acting in an abominably rude fashion, Evie couldn’t deny she felt just a tiny bit flattered. Men never brangled over her, and she had to admit it was rather fun.

  Until she remembered how Will had chosen not to fight for her, all those years ago. In fact, he’d let her slip out of his life with barely a whimper.

  The sun chose that moment to slip behind a cloud, and Evie shivered with a sudden chill. At least she hoped it was a chill, because the idea that Will still had the power to make her feel somehow lacking was a thoroughly depressing thought.

  He glanced over. “Are you cold? I have a lap blanket under the seat. Would you like me to pull it out for you?”

  “Of course not,” she said. “It’s a lovely warm day, and the sun will be out from behind that cloud in a moment.” She glanced over her shoulder at the riders. “I do think you should slow down, though. The others are having trouble catching up.”

  He shrugged. “As you wish.” His fingers moved slightly on the traces, but it seemed to have no discernible effect on the horses.

  She resisted the impulse to shake her head at him, knowing he would do exactly as he pleased. There had never been much point in arguing with Will—she always capitulated in the end—so she turned her attention to the landscape around her as they bowled down the winding drive from Maywood Manor to the main road. To the west lay the tenant farms, their fields lush and golden with ripening grains. The home woods ran to the east and the south, and a wide turn soon brought the curricle under a magnificent stand of oaks that marched along the drive to the gatehouse.

  It was all so blessedly familiar as, she had to admit, was the presence of the man next to her. And it was all too easy to mentally slip back to the days when she and Will had spent hours driving together in his little gig, so happy in each other’s company.

  He’d loved to tell stories back then, inventing tall tales about a boy named Ethelred Bracegirdle who’d run away from home, traveling to Egypt and the Orient to seek his fortune. Though ridiculous, most of the stories were so funny that Evie usually ended up collapsed with laughter. Only later, when Will had joined the army and left his old life behind, did she realize that those tales were the expression of his own longing for adventure.

  She stifled a self-pitying sigh as she remembered how much she’d loved their times together, regardless of the disappointments that had come later.

  As he slowed to pass the gatehouse and turn through the old stone gates into the narrow country lane, she had a vivid flash of the day he’d taught her to drive on this very lane. It had been in a little pony cart on a mild September day such as this. Though Evie had only been twelve, it was the day she’d started to fall in love with Will, as ridiculous as it was to say now. But as his hands had closed over hers, helping her to guide the pony, she’d felt an internal jolt she could still remember. And when he’d looked down at her, his silvery-blue eyes warm with affection and laughter, Evie had been lost. Since then, there’d never been another man who evoked the same feeling in her—a bright joy that seemed to spring from glorious, carefree days, and a summer that never ended.

  Back then he’d been only a boy, but now he was a man—and a powerful, intensely attractive one at that. His big, Corinthian’s body crowded her on the seat, and even though they drove under an open sky, the intimacy threatened to smother her.

  She sucked in a deep breath to ease the constriction in her chest. God only knew the havoc Will would play on her emotions—on her life—if she let her guard down with him. Even worse, to allow an attraction to him again would be a terrible betrayal of Michael, a man who had gifted her with a renewed sense of purpose in life. What could she ever truly hope for from Will except heartache and disappointment?

  “What’s wrong, Evie?” he asked in a quiet voice.

  She startled. “Nothing. Why do you ask?”

  “I remember that particular sigh. It means you’re not happy about something.”

  She sat up straighter, trying to put some distance between them. The blasted man was impossibly large, and the Lord knew she wasn’t exactly a tiny thing. Between the two of them and the excess material of her riding habit, it was a miracle they were even able to fit into the curricle.

  “I’m fine.” She flashed him what she hoped was a nonchalant smile. “I hardly think you know me very well, given the passage of time since we were children. I’ve grown up, Will.”

  He glanced down at her, his gaze lingering on her face and then moving to her bosom. “You certainly have.”

  Her mind blanked, struggling to find an appropriate reply. Unfortunately, there didn’t seem to be one.

  Cautiously, she peered up at him. She hadn’t been sure before, but now it did seem clear that Will was flirting with her. Not that she was adept at flirtation, or even in recognizing the signs. In fact, she was monumentally bad at it. But she surely wasn’t mistaking the heat in Will’s eyes that had made them darken like smoke curling up from a blue flame.

  When his lips tilted up in an amused smile, she realized her mouth was hanging open. She snapped it shut and jerked her head forward. “Will, you should keep your eyes on your pair. This road is quite bad after all the rains we’ve had this summer.”

  His low laugh did things to her nerves and insides that defied description. It was beginning to dawn on Evie that what she’d felt for Will as a girl—as powerful as that had been—had lacked a full awareness of his potent physical attractions.

  “Certainly, Madame Scold, whatever you say,” he teased.

  “When have I ever scolded you, William Endicott?” she asked, retreating behind a façade of exasperation. “As I recall, you always led me around by the nose. Really, I’m quite ashamed of my weak-willed behavior back then.”

  “If anyone did the leading, it was your sister,” he said dryly. “And if memory serves, you gave me quite a scolding last night.”

  That comment gave her nerves another kind of jolt, one not nearly as pleasant.

  “Yes, about that . . .” She threw a quick glance over her shoulder. Michael and Gilbride were catching up to the curricle, but were not yet close enough to eavesdrop.

  Might as well get it over with.

  Will’s calm expression as he managed the traces suggested nothing more than a friendly disinterest in the conversation. But she knew him as w
ell as he knew her. If she didn’t miss her guess, most of his attention was still on her and not on his cattle.

  “I owe you an apology, Will,” she said quietly.

  He cocked his head, still looking politely disinterested. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

  She raised her voice a notch. “I behaved rather wretchedly to you in the drawing room last night, and you didn’t deserve it.” Well, not most of it, anyway.

  He looked regretful. “You’ll have to speak up, Evie. I can’t hear you over the noise of the carriage wheels and the horses.”

  The beast. He was going to make things difficult for her.

  “I said I’m sorry,” she practically yelled. “Which you heard the first time, you brute.”

  He laughed. “I am a brute, and for that I apologize. But I couldn’t resist because you looked so guilt-ridden.”

  “I am guilt-ridden, and a gentleman would accept my heartfelt apology and be done with it,” she grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest.

  His glance flicked absently down to her bosom, and Evie couldn’t help flushing. Then he returned his attention to the horses. “No apology is necessary, my dear girl. I earned that thundering scold. Not only for my behavior last night but for everything else, too.”

  “I’m not sure what you mean,” she said, disconcerted by his switch in demeanor.

  He remained silent for a minute or so as he navigated a curve that brought them under a fine stand of canopy trees. But the dappled sunlight and shadow failed to hide the tension in his shoulders, or the way a muscle ticked in his jaw. When he finally answered, it seemed as if he had to pry his lips apart. “That last summer I was home . . . I’m sorry for that, Evie. I’ve been sorry about it for a long time.”

  She resisted the urge to curl her shoulders forward, as if for protection against the memories of that last summer together.

  Will had been away for months, enrolled in studies at the Royal Military College. She’d missed him terribly but knew that soldiering would suit him far better than a career in either the Church or the legal profession. Will, naturally, had been thrilled by the opportunity to join the army and please his father. Evie had only asked that he write to her whenever he had the chance.

  He had written a few brief notes that communicated how busy and happy he was in his new life. But he’d also addressed her in the most affectionate terms and said he couldn’t wait to see her again. Fool that she was, Evie had believed Will returned her feelings with equal ardor.

  Will had returned home that summer to visit with his guardians, the Endicotts. He was almost nineteen and Evie was soon to turn seventeen as she prepared for her debut with Eden in the upcoming Season. Quite old enough, she had thought, for them to pledge their love for each other.

  The first few weeks had been lovely, with Will seemingly overjoyed to see her. He’d told her about his father’s plans to buy him a commission in the Guards, and Evie had listened with pride and happiness. She saw no reason why his military service should be an impediment to their future since many sons of the nobility served in elite army regiments and still went on to marry. With any luck, Will would soon be an officer, one who’d be able to support a wife. Between his income and her dowry they would be able to live a happy, if fairly modest, life. She’d never been put off by a lack of riches, and much preferred life away from the bustle of London and the whirl of the ton. Will and Eden were the only people necessary to Evie’s happiness, and she’d had them both.

  But it had all gone horribly wrong during a ball at the Endicotts’ gracious manor house. She and Will had stood up together twice and he’d escorted her into supper, too. His eyes, his words, his touch . . . all had conveyed how much she meant to him. Evie had never been more certain that their happiness together was all but assured.

  When Will escorted her out to the terrace for air after a particularly robust set, Evie’s heart had thumped with excitement. Not at the notion that he would make any untoward advances, because he was too serious and proper for that. Nor would he think it right for an all-but penniless young man of questionable parentage to make the first advance, or put demands on her. So after careful thought, Evie had decided she had to take the first step, since Will likely never would. She’d thought about nothing else for weeks and it was finally her chance. With one bold act, she would show him how much she loved him.

  As they’d leaned against the balustrade, gazing up into the night sky, she’d gathered her courage and gone up on tiptoe, pressing her lips to his mouth. She’d put everything she felt for Will into the shy, heartfelt kiss.

  Will had startled, but then his arms had stolen around her and he’d pulled her into a tight embrace. She’d melted into him, reeling under the passion of his surprisingly expert kiss. Unfortunately, the kiss lasted mere seconds before he’d gasped against her lips and broken away.

  In the light of the half-full moon, she’d seen the stunned—in a horrified way—expression on his face. For the first time in her life, Evie felt awkward and shamefaced in his presence.

  But when she’d asked him what was wrong, he’d simply stammered out an incoherent apology and hauled her back into the house. They’d run into Eden in the hall—she’d come looking for them—and Will had handed Evie over with a shocking lack of ceremony. He’d avoided her for the rest of the night and indeed for the rest of the week, ensuring they were never alone together. She tried more than once to talk to him about the incident on the terrace, but he dodged her until it became painfully obvious that he found her company nothing more than a source of embarrassment.

  When he left for London to take up his commission—leaving earlier than planned—Evie had almost been grateful. To be physically near him when he clearly wished to avoid her ripped her heart into ragged shreds. She’d spent the years following that humiliation trying to convince herself that Will’s rejection had been the inevitable result of her childish, misguided infatuation.

  Staring blindly down the lane, Evie swallowed hard against the memories that congealed like suet in the center of her chest.

  “We were both young then, and I was silly.” Evie tried to sound like a sensible woman instead of a heartbroken girl. “I had no right to expect . . . things from you.”

  Will’s hands tightened on the reins. The horses broke into a canter, and for a moment his attention was fixed on the animals. When he’d settled them into a more leisurely pace, he looked down at her with a narrow, irritated gaze.

  “Why are you scowling at me?” she protested. “I just told you it wasn’t your fault.”

  “Of course it was my fault. And you had every reason to expect things from me.”

  She pressed a hand to her chest, nearly breathless. “What . . .what things?”

  “Courtesy and respect, to begin with,” he said from between gritted teeth. “And affection. I was a complete bounder to treat you in such a cavalier fashion.”

  He sounded so disgusted with himself that she had to smile. “You were, rather. It felt horrible.”

  “If it’s any consolation, I felt horrible about it too. For a very long time.” He blew out an exasperated breath. “I did try to apologize a few years ago, though, if you recall. You weren’t very receptive to it.”

  She wanted to bury her burning face in her hands. But in some strange way it was a relief to be able to talk about what had happened between them. To be candid as they’d once been with each other.

  “I wasn’t ready to hear any apologies then,” she admitted. “I was still mortified, and Eden was spitting mad too. I was so afraid she was going to bash you over the head with a vase that I just wanted to get her out of there.”

  A fleeting smile touched his lips. “I have a vivid memory of that encounter. There are few things more terrifying than your sister in full rage.”

  “I know. It’s splendid, isn’t it?”

  One of Will’s eyebrows moved in a skeptical lift, but he didn’t contradict her.

  “So, what’s changed?” he asked
a moment later. “Why are you able to hear my apology now?”

  Evie stared down at her clasped hands, sensibly gloved in plain tan. She knew the answer to his question. What had changed was meeting Michael. His friendship and admiration had done so much to restore her confidence, and their work at St. Margaret’s had helped her to realize she’d wasted too much time grieving over her first, foolish love.

  But that felt much too private to explain to Will.

  “I grew up, I suppose,” she said vaguely. “And it seemed silly to fret so much about a kiss, especially one that was clearly so, er, distasteful for you.”

  Now it did seem silly, but at the time she’d been devastated. Aside from everything else, she must have been very bad at kissing, although she’d certainly enjoyed it. Will, however, had fled as if all the hounds of hell were hot on his trail.

  He shot her an incredulous glance. “Evie, it was a splendid kiss, which was one of the reasons why I stopped.”

  She went stiff as a fencepost as they wheeled through the village of Barrington. Though her gaze took in the verdant green and the quaint Elizabethan buildings, her brain was fixated on trying to understand his shocking words.

  “That makes no sense,” she managed.

  “It makes perfect sense,” he retorted. “Good God, you were barely seventeen and entirely innocent. I had no business taking advantage of you or our friendship.”

  “If memory serves, I believe I was the one taking advantage of you.”

  That surprised a snort of laughter out of him. “I suppose that’s true. Still, I had no business responding the way I did.”

  “I don’t know,” she mused. “I thought it was all rather lovely.”

  He met that remark with steadfast silence, concentrating on guiding his horses through the turn onto the long road that climbed the gentle hill to the abbey ruins.

  “In any event,” he said once he’d sorted the turn, “I was mortally embarrassed by my shabby behavior. I found it impossible to discuss it with you. After all, you were my dearest friend. It was a shock that I could think of you in . . . well, in that way.”