Page 3 of Outrageous

“My father will never find out, James. We’ll only be up north a week at the most—we can rent hacks for the ride back and make the journey in a fraction of the time.”

“What if the marquess checks on you before we return?”

“Why would he? He believes I am going to join my sister at Lady Repton’s country house, but Melissa and Lady Repton aren’t expecting me to visit for at least two more weeks. It’s perfect.”

“A perfect disaster,” James muttered.

“You worry too much. My father is so concerned with my stepmamma’s delicate condition, he won’t even recall my existence.”

James made a skeptical noise but said nothing—probably because he knew it was true. Anyone with eyes in their head could see that her father worshipped his wife. Eva didn’t blame him; she loved her stepmamma, too.

“We can still change our minds about this, my lady. We could—”

“Don’t fret, we’ll be finished with Visel and back before anyone finds out anything. Besides, my father assigned you to me as my groom. Strictly speaking, your hide is mine, so you can always claim you were just obeying my orders.” The carriage passed a streetlight and illuminated his offended expression, and Eva laughed.

James didn’t join her. Instead, he shivered. “My hide is more likely to find itself in Newgate after we get caught. Cor, my lady, he’s a bleeding duke’s heir.”

“We won’t get caught.”

“Ha!”

“I’m telling you, my father shall never know. Melissa is an indifferent letter-writer and we should have at least two weeks, but probably longer. In the meantime, we will have plenty of opportunity to persuade his deranged lordship to leave my brother alone.”

“What if he doesn’t want to be persuaded?”

Eva had considered that, too. “Then you shall stay with him.”

“And how will you get back to London?”

“I can hire a chaise and somebody to attend me if you are so concerned.”

“What if Lord Visel says something to your father after we let him go? I don’t see a man like him taking kidnapping without a fuss.”

“Oh come, James. Do you think he would ever admit that a mere girl, and a crazy one to boot, kidnapped him? He’d be the laughingstock of all London. Trust me, he’ll be far more interested in keeping this quiet than we are. You’ll see.”

“How the devil do you know he’ll do what you want, my lady?”

“Why, James, are you saying I lack the ability to be persuasive?” Eva laughed when he groaned. “You let me worry about Lord Visel. I trust the chaise will be waiting for us at the Swan?”

“Aye, already paid for it.”

“And did you engage it under his lordship’s name?”

James looked pained. “Yes, my lady.”

Eva grinned and sat back, resting one booted foot on the earl’s motionless body. She had no qualms about using him as a footstool. He’d tormented Gabriel relentlessly since the day he’d returned to England. He’d also said extremely uncharitable things about her. All in all, he’d behaved like a coxcomb toward most members of the ton, even though all of Britain had been prepared to receive him with open arms. And why not? He was exceedingly handsome, he was the Duke of Tyndale’s heir, and he had a reputation for military bravery that was unparalleled. But Godric Fleming had ignored the ton’s adulation and appeared only interested in persecuting Eva’s brother. There was something wrong with him; something very wrong, indeed.

And Eva should know because she counted herself as something of a Visel expert—although not by choice. She’d been at her third wretched ball of the wretched Season when he strolled in looking like an angel cast down to Earth. She’d been sitting with all the other wallflowers, watching the activities from a safe distance. Drusilla, her best friend and now her brother’s wife, had been sitting beside her.

Dru hadn’t notice Visel’s entrance because she had eyes only for Gabe.

Eva smirked to herself. Dru thought she’d hidden her infatuation, but Eva watched others so closely, sometimes she swore she could hear what they were thinking. She knew that her friend had fallen head-over-heels in love with Gabe the summer she’d first met him. Gabriel, of course, was a clueless clod-headed male who’d been too preoccupied with his mistresses and the beautiful Miss Lucinda Kittridge to pay poor Dru any mind. Well, except to taunt and tease her.

But they were married now, so all was well that ended well, in Eva’s opinion. She had to give Visel credit for the marriage—if he’d not behaved like a buffoon, her brother never would have been forced to offer for Drusilla, which would have been a tragedy. Not that you could get Drusilla and Gabriel to admit that . . . yet. No, they were too stubborn to realize they were made for each other. Eva snorted at the foolishness of people in love.

They would sort out their problems in time. She gritted her teeth and prodded Visel’s unconscious form with the heel of her boot. Yes, they would solve their problems if Lord Visel was not around to bother and meddle and interfere in their lives every ten minutes, which he couldn’t seem to stop doing for some bizarre reason.

A low groan came from the floor.