out of her grasp and stood, turning and backing away from the pair on the bench. ‘You ask too much of me, Evie.’ He looked to the man beside her, trying to maintain a frigid courtesy. This idea was no fault of the duke’s, but it explained his rude questioning of moments before. He probably feared that Sam was the sort of man who would use Evie’s fondness to his own betterment. ‘I apologise, your Grace, but I must respectfully refuse the offer.’ Perhaps St Aldric could explain it to her. The man must have guessed his feelings, if Thorne had not already explained the situation.
He looked at Evie, whose beautiful eyes were beginning to fill with tears, and then he backed away from her, towards the house. ‘And I should take my leave as well. It is long past the time I meant to go. You persuaded me to tarry. But I should not have listened.’
Lead us not into temptation … The words of the prayer echoed in his mind.
But they offered no protection from the stricken look on her face. ‘Sam, wait …’
If she spoke another word, he would weaken. He would wipe those tears and agree to anything that might make her smile again. She would have him moved into the house by evening, sleeping scant feet from her bedroom door.
‘I cannot.’ Must not. ‘Not another moment. Good day to you, Lady Evelyn. And you as well, your Grace. And goodbye.’
Chapter Five
Evie watched the London streets passing by outside the carriage window and tapped her foot impatiently on the boards beneath the seat. It was really too much to bear.
Before making her come out, it had been drummed into her by Aunt Jordan that her future depended on her ability to be pleasant. It was almost as important as looks and much more important than intelligence. Men might marry a beautiful ninnyhammer, as long as she hung on their words and did not correct them. But a shrew would be a shrew, long after looks faded.
So Eve had done her best to be good company. And though she could not keep herself from arguing, she always did it with a smile on her face. Perhaps that was why the men in her life were treating her like a child, alternately scolding and humouring her, thinking that they could render her agreeable to what they wanted. Because she did not look angry, they did not believe she was serious.
Father was clearly lying about what he knew of Sam. Sam was equally evasive when it came to the truth of his feelings for her, changing from hot to cold and back again so suddenly that she could hardly understand him.
And St Aldric? She smiled in spite of herself. He would appoint the devil himself as a personal physician if he thought it would bring her any closer to accepting his offer. At least the man was consistent. But since she did not love him, his opinion hardly signified.
The carriage pulled to a stop outside the inn where Sam was staying. It was another piece of nonsense that he had refused his old room, remaining aloof in a place that could not be half as nice as home. Even worse, she had been forced to worm the location of it from the coachman who had taken him away. Sam had left no direction for her and her father had announced that he had no idea where to find the man, nor was he bothered by his ignorance.
Now that she was here, she told her Ban-bury tale to the hostler and was shown to the room where Sam had gone to ground. She knocked smartly on the door and heard the answering ‘come’ from the other side. Perhaps he was expecting a maid with his dinner.
She smiled to herself. He was certainly not expecting her. But he must learn to like surprises. She opened the door and swept into the room, her smart day dress swirling around her. ‘Good afternoon, Dr Hastings. I have come to continue our discussion in private.’
‘Evie.’ He rose from the desk where he had been seated and a prayer book tumbled to the floor, brushed from the table in front of him.
She had not known him to be particularly religious, but people altered with time. He probably did not think of her as a sophisticated débutante. When he’d left, she had been a scapegrace companion with manners no better than his. But the change in her should not have shocked him this much. He was backing away from the door as though he meant to brace his shoulders against the wall. He had the look of a startled animal.
But a thoroughly masculine animal, if she was to be honest. He was out of his coat, with his shirt sleeves rolled up to keep the grime from his cuffs. She could see muscles in those arms, and shoulders more broad and strong than she’d imagined. She swallowed and remembered, for just a moment, why one did not court impropriety by forcing one’s way into a gentleman’s room for a private interview.
But the gentleman was Sam. And no matter what might happened between them, she did not fear it.
‘What are you doing here?’ he asked, wary. ‘And why were you even allowed above stairs? The innkeeper will think you a common trollop for behaving so.’
‘Nonsense,’ she said and gave him a wink, trying to coax a smile from him. ‘I told him that we were family. Is it not natural for a sister to visit a brother?’
He made a strange, strangled noise, as though he could not quite master his speech, and then said weakly, ‘It was still very wrong of you.’
‘But I could not allow you to leave me in anger. I do not want to part this way. I do not want to part at all.’ She glanced at the sea chest on the floor. It was clear that he was packing again. ‘And I certainly do not want you to go as you did before, without a word.’
For a moment, her voice sounded strange as well. If she was not careful, she would break down in front of him and beg him to stay. Excess emotion was effective against Father. But Sam would likely think she was shamming and put her out of the room.
She conquered the tears, before they could escape. Running down the back of her throat, they tasted very like the ones she had shed when he’d first left her. She did not cry any more. Gentleman might be moved by a weeping woman, but they did not like her nearly as well as a smiling one. She dropped her head a bit so that she might appear demure and properly sorry for getting above herself. ‘I will talk no more of finding you a position. I will not meddle at all. But you promised you would stay for the wedding. Remember? You promised. You cannot break your word to me, just because of a silly misunderstanding. Forgive me.’ She looked up through her lashes and held out a hand to him. Contrition, helplessness, and a hint of flirtation should bring him round.
He ignored the hand, back still firmly against the wall. ‘There is nothing to forgive. What you did was out of concern for me and I thank you for attempting to help, even if I must refuse. I will do as you ask and stay for the wedding. I will even buy a new coat and have my neckcloth properly tied for it, so that I do not shame you before St Aldric.’
His expression was frozen and his tone wooden. He looked and sounded as false as she felt, trying to snare him with her feminine wiles. He paused, wetting his lips before speaking again, as though it had been necessary to prepare himself for the answer. ‘Now when is this wedding you are so eager for me to attend?’
She smiled in triumph. ‘I really have no idea. I have not said yes, you remember. But if you mean to leave as soon as I am wed, I suspect it shall take me some time to decide.’
He lurched forwards as though about to give her a good shaking for her impudence, then regained control and ran his fingers through his hair. ‘Evelyn, I swear, your behaviour is enough to drive a sane man to madness.’
‘So I have been told,’ she said with another smile. ‘It is good
