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Richard strolled across the lawns, three great wolfhounds bounding around his heels. Peals of laughter shrieked in the distance from the children, and he wondered if Kencourt Manor had ever echoed with such good cheer and delight. Evie was bent over, laughing and holding her sides in merriment, and there was some pantomime from the children. She glanced in his direction, and her eyes lit with a heated welcome. He felt his whole body tightening in response to that smile. At that moment, he could picture her at his side forever, and his mouth went dry.

I think after our moment in the carriage it bears such speculation, don’t you?

Could he truly take Evie to be his wife? His lover…yes, but a more permanent union that had the power to turn bitter and ugly with failed expectations? Would she ever be happy with a life away from the glittering whirl of society, spending most of the year in the country? Many lords and ladies already clamored to be invited to dinner parties and soirees she hosted with the countess. Would she truly stand at his side forever as he’s derided for mixing with those perceived to be inferior? Was she really capable of adding her voice, her charm, and wit to his? The fear in her eyes had been telling. Her lack of rebuttal had been a kick to his gut, though he had expected it.

Two of the massive dogs bounded over to her, and she dropped to her knees in the grass and scratched behind the great brutes’ ears, laughing when they tried to slobber on her chin and woofing right along with them. Her bonnet had long been discarded, her hair a wonderful mess, and there were even a few splotches of dirt on her dress. In that very moment, she challenged everything he had believed in her aloof gentility. The emotions twisting through his heart felt frightfully like…like…love.

God’s blood.

He swiped a hand roughly over his face. Clearly, he was losing his damn senses. Despite being the devil earlier with Evie, he’d never given much thought to his fidelity when he took the plunge, but during their discourse, the idea of acting inconstant like the hypocrites of the ton had left a vile taste on his tongue. He would never dishonor vows made to his wife by taking a mistress, even if that marriage proved to be a hell, which was why he had to be sure of the woman he chose, especially for his daughter’s sake. He didn’t want to raise the children in a torn and cold relationship. The wife he selected had to be able to withstand the harsh reality of his life and be strong of character to respect and honor their vows. Or perhaps, he should trust that he would be enough for his daughter. Biting back a curse, he pushed away the thoughts of taking the easy path.

Richard was not particularly pleased with the questions stirring in his heart, for he had no immediate answer, and he was too decisive to torment himself with doubts.

He smiled as his daughter tipped her head to the sky and chortled. What elicited such a reaction, he couldn’t imagine, but he wanted to hold Evie and kiss her, for not being as standoffish and concerned with decorum as he had always anticipated.

The harsh upbringing Emily had endured had left scars on her soul, ones he prayed would be healed in time. All the children he rescued were haunted, but his special eight resided in a corner of his heart, and no disparagement could detach them from him.

“A note has been sent to Rosette Park,” he said, helping Evie stand.

“Thank you. The children and I were about to head inside.” Thunder rumbled in the distance, and she lifted her head to the sky. “I believe we shall have rain soon,” she said with a delighted grin.

Emily skipped over to him. “Did you know Lady Evie plays the pianoforte and knows how to ride side saddle,

Papa?”

He could form no response and barely managed a grunt.

“I would like to know how to ride like a lady,” his daughter said with a sweet, shy smile. “Perhaps you could join us in Hyde Park one morning and teach me, Lady Evie.”

Richard was discomfited at the eager manner in which his daughter wanted Evie in her life, but what chilled his soul was Evie’s hesitation. There it is…the fear of being seen with his brood by society.

He hardened his heart against the foolish desires that had been bubbling through his thoughts. No matter how much he lusted after Evie and how delicious she had looked condescending to play with his children, the toast of society could never be the right wife for him.

Chapter Eleven

Evie leaned her head back against the cushions on the chaise lounge in the library and watched the candle flames chasing the shadows around the room. Steady drops of rain pinged against the window, the sound soothing to her senses. Dinner had been a lovely, boisterous affair with rousing, albeit noisy, conversations with the children. There had been Julia and Juliette, the nine-year-old spirited twins, Clara and her older brother James—who acted as if he trusted no one. Evie had spied the knife he kept in the sleeve of his shirt. The somber and protective Jack, who only seemed to smile when Emily laughed and had eyes older and wiser beyond his ten years of age. And the eldest children at twelve were Thomas and Henrietta. Richard cared deeply for them all, and he was openly delighted by his daughter. In all, her visit proved to be a most enchanting day.

They all had been so delightful, and it did not escape Evie that her mother would never invite them to her table. They were too common, too vulgar, their connections too dubious for them to be accepted by her society. Her mother was not a woman of strong understanding.

I will, in turn, expect you to cross the social divide and use your wit and influence to fight for those less fortunate, to love my daughter and the children I’ve adopted as your own.

The door to the library opened and in strolled Richard. He closed the door with a soft snick and sauntered over to the sofa opposite her, where he lowered his graceful frame. “It is late, almost ten.”

She lifted her head and placed the book she had abandoned reading over an hour ago beside her. “I know.”

“It is dangerous for you to be here.”

She wetted her lips, a nervous reaction to her seduction plans. “The rain shows no promise of lessening.”

His golden gaze flickered to the windows where the raindrops slapped steadily against it. Several seconds passed before his regard once more returned to her. It glowed with cool caution…and hunger.

Absently, she smoothed a stray wisp of a curl from her temple. “They are wonderful children, Richard. Where are their parents?”

“Dead, missing, or indifferent.”

“Why did you take them to live with you?”

His lips curved into a cold sneer.

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