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Chapter 3
By the time Gabriel was done with his bath, Evie was fast asleep. After watching her lithe, fit body trot around the room with nothing to cover it up but a towel, he was certain he wouldn’t fall asleep for quite some time. How in the hell did she expect them to travel over a sennight together, staying in inns, sharing a narrow bed, and not succumbing to the demands of the flesh? As it was, his flesh was hard, hot, and aching for her touch.
He wasn’t mocking her when he said she was too thin; she was. But she was also athletically built, and if that towel was any indication, she had small but perky breasts. Add to that milky white skin and golden freckles scattered around her body, and she looked absolutely delicious. She was going to be his wife, too. And he wasn’t allowed to have a taste. Not fair.
He lay on the other side of the bed from her and tried distracting himself with thoughts of some non-arousing things, like what his father would say when he found out about his marriage. How Clydesdale would work himself up into a fit when he realized he’d married his wife’s cousin. He thought about the upcoming three-day journey in a closed carriage with an innocent seductress until they reached Scotland. At least three more nights in a bed with her. Her red hair tousled on the pillow, her sweet body resting just a few inches away, the scent of her skin mixed with soap arousing his—
Blast! He turned on his stomach and buried his head into his pillow.
He needed to do something about his erection. He couldn’t possibly spend the entire journey with it. Perhaps at the next inn, he would find some serving girl or a village woman willing to spend a few hours with him. Yes, he would do just that. Next time they stopped for the night, he wouldn’t spend it sleeping chastely in bed next to the seductive little vixen.
This night, however, was torture. He tossed all night, turning this way and that, bumping into her and brushing various parts of his body against her warm skin. She seemed not to notice. In fact, she slept like a log, while he managed to doze only a short while close to dawn.
The next day, Evie woke up, all fresh and rested. And in contrast, he was surly and sleepy. Because of this, he spent most of the day sleeping in the carriage. When he wasn’t sleeping, he managed to coax a little conversation from his bride-to-be. Evie was a little more talkative than the day before, and by suppertime, she was in higher spirits than when she showed up on his doorstep two nights ago. She was turning into the Evie he knew.
They’d met for the first time when she was about seventeen years old, when Clydesdale had just married his wife, Julie. But Gabriel didn’t really remember her back then. His first conscious recollection of her was of her coming-out ball. She had been standing in a circle of gentlemen, flanked by her grandfather, the formidable duke, and her cousin’s husband, the Earl of Clydesdale. She wore a pale emerald gown with a high neckline, full sleeves, and a modest design. Innocence incarnate. Her golden-red hair had been gleaming in the candlelight, her eyes glowing with joy. That was the moment he realized he needed to stay away from her. That mix of innocence and seduction spelled trouble for him every time. Not that she was interested in him, but he knew he could seduce her in no time.
But even guarded by two of the most redoubtable men in England, one of whom held the most respected title and the other being his best friend, he knew it would amount to nothing should he ever seduce her. So he stayed away. And now he was about to marry her.
He braced himself for a nice and long pummeling by his best friend. But her grandfather was no longer there to protect her. That job was his from now on.
Somerset had doted on his granddaughter. That was apparent to everyone. It was a constant cause for gossip. He did anything and everything for her. She was rich, beautiful, talented, and adored. A path to ultimate disaster. But somehow, she’d turned out to be one of the sweetest young ladies of theton. Untouched by the ugliness of envy and greed, she was generous, sincere, lovely. She’d adored her grandfather, too. Now, as he was gazing at her, he noted that the shadows under her eyes weren’t the result of a few sleepless nights; they were a sign of a deep sorrow.
She looked at him at that moment and smiled.
“I understand that the scenery gets boring,” she said, her lips twitching in the beginning of laughter. “But could you maybe stop staring at me? I don’t suppose I am more interesting than hills and sheep.”
“Oh, you are most definitely more interesting than sheep,” he said without taking his intent gaze off her face. “Tell me, how does the beloved granddaughter of a formidable duke turn up under the guardianship of a weasel such as Montbrook?”
She sighed heavily and looked away. She was silent for several long moments before finally answering. When she did, her face took on a sorrowful look that strained her features, which made him regret the question.
“He is the only relative from Grandpa’s side. And I don’t have any aunts or uncles. Our family was very small. When my grandfather married, he probably thought he’d have a bevy of children.” She smiled then, lost in a memory. “Their marriage was a scandalous one. My grandmother was the daughter of an Irish merchant and my grandfather a newly titled duke. Grandpa always said that I am the spitting image of her.”
“She was quite a beauty, eh?” Gabriel grinned.
Evie turned to him then, a genuine smile playing on her lips. “That’s what Grandpa always told me. I imagine that I reminded him of her. That is why he loved me so. Her name was Niamh. Which meant radiant, bright.” She paused for a moment, looking back out the window. “They eloped too. But theirs was a love match.” A long pause followed while Evie stared out the window, lost in thought. Gabriel didn’t interrupt. He was genuinely interested in her story.
“She had a difficult birth, so after my father was born, they decided not to have more children. They were happy with their little family. My grandfather doted on his only son. I suppose he always thought my father would take over the Somerset title. Since they were both healthy and strong, he imagined that I would marry long before…” She paused, shook her head, and cleared her throat. “Nobody could have predicted my parents’ carriage accident or my grandfather’s health issues. And most of all, the treasure of Somerset, unmarried, on the brink of spinsterhood.”
She smiled again, only her smile had a bitter twist to it.
“Why haven’t you married already?” he asked, suddenly curious. Year in and year out, dozens of suitors had trotted in her wake, worshipping the ground she walked upon, and yet year after year, she remained unwed.
“I was looking for love.” She looked up at him with such sadness in her eyes he wanted to weep. “My grandparents married for love, my parents too. I lived surrounded by it…” Her face closed, became stony and emotionless, the true duchess in all her grandeur. “I took it for granted,” she said quietly.
“No need for that,” he said quickly, trying to lighten the mood. “It’s not too late. You still have two nights to fall in love. I promise to step aside for true love.”
She chuckled lightly, just as he hoped she would. “I am afraid even I am not naïve enough to believe in love at first sight. And for what it’s worth, I am not regretting my decision to marry you.”
She looked at him as if she was waiting for him to return her sentiment. But how could he? By marrying one of the most marvelous women of theton, he was single-handedly ruining her chances at love and marital bliss. He’d also agreed never to take her to bed, a sentiment he regretted even more than his promise to marry her.
In several more hours, they made it to their next rest stop. The rain was beginning to pour with all its might, and the skies were dark and ominous. Usually, Gabriel enjoyed thunderstorms. At least some variation to constant dull weather. Not when he was traveling, however.
He booked a room for them with the innkeeper, and all the while, the bar wench winked and smiled at him in a blatant invitation. Gabriel resolved to take full advantage of her right after supper.
He ushered Evie into the room and looked around. The bath was brought in, and the footmen were rushing back and forth, filling the hip bath with steaming water. Their supper was cooling on the table next to the bed. Evie was wet, and her shoes were caked with mud from the short walk from the carriage to the inn door. Her teeth were chattering too, and she flinched with every sound of thunder.
“Are you all right?” he asked, looking worriedly at her profile.
