Always a Maiden (The Belles of Beak Street #5)(9)

She pushed his shoulders back because the danger was something she was well aware of. She needed to see his face. “I would need your assurances that you would not…that you would leave me undefiled.”

His eyes locked on hers and he shook his head. “Even if a man promised you he would leave your virginity intact and had every intention of holding to that, he might forget himself in the moment.” Sliding his hands over her shoulders, negating her resistance, he drew so close his lips were a hairsbreadth from hers. “That is what makes passion so very dangerous.”

Hot and cold rivers ran through her. At the same time, a fresh horror poured through her. Oh, this couldn’t be. She’d exposed everything to him. He stayed there almost kissing her, but not quite. Was he waiting for permission or for her to close the last scrap of space between their lips? “Are you saying you would force me?”

He shook his head and eased back slightly. “I would never force you to give me your virginity. But if you were to beg me to take you, I doubt I would resist.”

“I would never beg you to ruin me.” Except she was more of less asking that. “Entirely ruin me.” She had to be a virgin on her wedding night, even if she were not entirely pure.

His head tilted and there was a gleam in his eyes. “Never?”

“Of course not,” she said with far more assurance than she felt. Her knees were shaking and there was a most peculiar tension well above her knees. “I have to get back to my mother before she starts searching the house.”



*

There was his challenge. It only occurred to Evan after he’d had time to reflect that he was leaving town. He’d already given notice at his rented rooms. His uncle and cousin were expecting him back within a fortnight. He didn’t have time to properly seduce Lady Susanah. But she’d thrown down that gauntlet. Fool that he was, he couldn’t resist the challenge. He’d make her beg, but first, he would help her discover her passion. She was a bit confused on the issue—not that he’d really given her reason to understand the nuanced difference between passion and just sex.

Her plan might be insane though.

Meeting only in the middle of the night and never being seen together in society was lunacy, and he was mad for consenting to it.

After midnight a few days later, he stood a block from his carriage, waiting for Lady Susanah to emerge from Weatdon House. She would be ruined if anyone discovered them. He would be named a blackguard and forced to marry her—or if not him, she would be forced to marry an old man who had already buried four wives. Because Evan wasn’t a prize of any consequence on the marriage mart. And if his prospects weren’t quite as grim as everyone thought, he wasn’t free to enlighten anyone to that fact.

The moon had set some time ago, and it was too dark to see his watch so he had no idea if he’d been waiting ten minutes or two hours. He was half afraid the watch would raise a hue and cry that he was a thief, or a servant would bludgeon him for skulking about. That or he’d freeze to death while waiting.

She said she’d come down as soon as the house was asleep, but the windows had been dark for quite some time. She’d probably fallen asleep. Or gone lily-livered on him.

If he wanted to stir her to passion, he should be making her wait for him.

The latch on the door clicked and his blood pumped rapidly. The door opened a sliver, and a light spilled out, half blinding him.

“Mr. Cooper?” Lady Susanah whispered. Probably blinded her, too.

“Yes, my lady,” he drawled softly, from an arms-length away.

“Oh!” She blew out the night light, and set it to the side.

Her movements were jerky as she exited the house. She fumbled with a brass key until he took it from her hands and inserted it into the lock.

She was shaking, although he could tell she was trying very hard not to.

He pocketed the key and held out his arm. “My carriage is just around the corner.”

Her gaze darted to the house and the windows then out to the shadows of the street. She took his arm, but when he took a step, she didn’t.

“Let us go, my lady.”

“I don’t know if I can walk.”

“Do you want me to carry you?” It was late, but not so very late. An occasional carriage went by. It was late to be walking, but if he were to carry her down the street that would look mighty strange. “I would, but that might draw unwanted attention.”

She took a shaky breath and then moved forward.

“There you go,” he said softly. “No need to be scared.”

“I’m just worried that someone will realize I’m gone.” She looked over her shoulder at her home and nearly veered off the edge of the sidewalk into a wrought iron fence. “I heaped the pillows in the bed, but if someone looks too closely…”

“I’m certain no one will look,” Why would they? She wasn’t a prisoner. He tucked her arm close to his body to better steer her.

“Are you taking me to your—I don’t even know where you live.” Her voice was higher than normal. She was most decidedly afraid, even if she was loath to admit it.

“I rent rooms off of St. James, but we’re not going there.”

Her step faltered. “Where are you taking me?”

“To a ball.”

She came to a full stop. “I can’t be seen with you.”