The Duke's Temptation Read online

  Why was it this man who made her react like she did? What was it about him that drew her to him with a desire to understand more? Because he seemed to be taciturn, or someone who preferred solitude? Both, she rather thought as she remembered how aloof he had seemed during the early part of the previous evening. Oh, he’d come to her aid later, and even chatted as he had escorted her home, but he’d given little away. Now here he was, a few yards away from her. Her mouth was dry as she got within hailing distance.

  “Well met, my lord. Accident or design?” Evangeline made sure her tone was light and amused. It would never do for him to think it mattered one way or another. He didn’t seem the sort to want… She cast her mind around for the word she needed, as her English deserted her for a moment. To want involvement, she finally decided in triumph.

  Gibb raised one elegant eyebrow and answered her question with one of his own. “Do you often ride at this time? Alone? Is that sensible?”

  It was her turn to raise the eyebrow, plus ignore the swift rush of heat that flooded her body. “Why ever not? Until last night I had experienced no trouble, of any kind, ever since I arrived in your country.” Time to change the subject. “Do you often ride at this time, my lord? Alone? Is that sensible?”

  He glowered and she laughed. “Footpads, you know, like shiny, sparkling things,” she said. “Like your cravat pin or fob. I imagine even your signet could be broken down and the jewel extracted. And let’s face it, it is easy for a knife to cut through a finger if one knows how.” She spoiled her solemn intonation with a grin.

  “We’re in London,” he said in a tone halfway between a snarl and a growl. “Where are the footpads? This is Hyde Park, not the stews of the East End.”

  Evangeline smiled. “Correct.” He still seemed to be struggling with his temper. Perhaps it was time to defuse it if she was able. “To be serious, my lord, I’m as safe if not safer than you. I have my stiletto handy, I wear no jewels, the people I see each morning I ride are the same. The milkmaids, the street sweepers, one lone pie seller, the watch on his way home. Two urchins after any job possible. They know me, I now know them.” She didn’t add the toffs and dandies whom she avoided. She knew how best to make sure they were not aware of her. Sometimes people didn’t see what was under their noses and she intended it to remain that way.

  Gibb scowled. “I do not agree. You should be chaperoned,” he said stubborn as ever. “This is London.”

  Heaven help her from imperious, dictatorial men. “It doesn’t matter whether you agree or not,” Evangeline said with a patience she was about to lose. “Or whether this is London, Paris, Brussels or…or…Timbuktu. I am in charge of my own destiny. I have been for long enough.”

  He grunted. “So you say, but how do I know that?”

  She might have realized it would come to this. It was a pity one could not stomp one’s feet while on a horse. Instead, Evangeline gritted her teeth, smiled sweetly and beckoned to him. As if he had no say in the matter—and maybe he didn’t—he leaned toward her.

  Evangeline cut one side of his reins and lifted the knife to his cravat.

  “Like this.”

  “You think so?” His swift reaction took her unawares. He moved and before she had a chance to understand his intention, a sharp, searing pain hit her wrist and went up her arms. Her knife flew out of her hands and dropped to the ground, quivering as the point dug into the soil. Evangeline’s mouth fell open as she found herself off her saddle and across Gibb’s horse’s back before she had time to assimilate what had happened.

  “Now tell me you do not need a chaperone,” Gibb said in a grim voice. “See how easy that was? You dropped your guard, and do not say it was because it was me who was able to do so. You, my dear, were too complacent.” He twisted her around with ease to sit sideways. His horse snorted but didn’t move.

  Evangeline bit back her impulsive and rude retort and nipped her lip instead. He was correct. Sloppy, shoddy and stupid, she berated herself.

  “True,” she said. “And believe me, that is not a mistake I ever intend to repeat. Forewarned is forearmed. Now, will you be so kind as to get my stiletto for me? It is easier for you to dismount rather than me.”

  “You won’t need to. Be forewarned,” he said and hit one fist into his other palm to emphasize the point. “If you ride, I will ride with you.”

  It was the last thing she’d expected him to say.

  “You will?” she said in a puzzled voice. “Why?”

  “I have no idea,” Gibb said in a tone that rang with honesty. “I had no intention of seeing you again. I do not do involvement.”

  “Who said I wanted you to?” Evangeline replied, her mind racing. “Be involved or see you again.” This man fascinated and repelled her at the same time. His aloofness, the sense that something was wrong and how he hid the real Gibb Alford from everyone, even his peers, made her want to discover his inner feelings. His way of dissecting her made her want to run. “Nevertheless, I am happy as I am,” she reiterated.

  He nodded and dismounted before he helped her to the ground. She shook out her riding habit and glanced around for her stiletto. Gibb bent down, picked up the weapon and handed it to her. “If you say so. I beg to differ. Here.”

  Evangeline tucked the deadly thing back into place up her sleeve as she admired his physique from under her lashes. Her night vision hadn’t lied. He was indeed a fine figure of a man. Well built, with no fat that she could discern, plenty of muscles that rippled under his elegant clothing and a formidable demeanor. Enough to silence any opposition to his ideas or directives. If she had wanted someone to protect her, he was the perfect person.

  If. Goodness, what a dither. I am thinking like a silly young thing with no two thoughts in her mind.

  “Now.” With what appeared little or no effort, he lifted her onto her horse. “Stay there.” He gave her a brief glance and swung back onto his horse, which fidgeted. “Please,” he added with a faint smile as he gathered the sliced rein with a competence she envied and adjusted his grip to its length. “Nevis wishes to run. Shall you and…” He looked at her mount.

  “Honey,” Evangeline supplied. “From Mr. Chudley’s stables. I have no horse of my own, sadly. However, Honey is what her name suggests. A honey-sweet animal with no vices and a soft mouth.” The horse whickered as if in agreement and Gibb smiled.

  “Then perhaps you would care to join us in a quick gallop before anyone is around to tell us not to? Are you capable of that? I mean no disrespect,” he added as she opened her mouth to ask why he had such a poor opinion of her riding skills. “But it would be remiss of me not to inquire, as I have never seen you ride.”

  “I’m willing and able.” Evangeline toned down her response. The man was infuriating, that was for certain, but she did not have it in her nature to nurture a grudge and he did seem to be genuine in his alarm on her behalf. That was a phenomenon she was no longer used to. “So, yes, let us.”

  Gibb nodded and turned his horse so they faced the beginning of the dirt track. “After you.”

  Evangeline grinned, bit back the whoop she would have liked to utter and let Honey have her head. Within seconds Gibb was at her side, holding back Nevis to match Honey’s shorter stride. They both rode fast and furious, and without doubt not within the realms of polite riding in the park, as their horses’ hooves kicked up mud and leaves and left a trail of dust behind them.

  By the time they pulled up at the far end of the track, Evangeline was hot, sweaty and happy. Her hat had slid off her head and bounced up and down on her back with every movement she and Honey had made. Most of her hair had come loose from its coronet of plaits, and tendrils teased her cheeks and curled around her shoulders. She was the happiest she had been since her beloved maman had passed away. Warning bells rang in her head.

  Remember who he is, and remember what you have to do. She would. Of course she couldn’t forget that, but for now, Evangeline decided, she would seize the moment and enjoy these precious
few minutes and forget who they both were.

  “That was such fun, and—” She glanced over his shoulder to where several horsemen appeared to be ready to start their rides. “Not a moment too soon.” She nodded in the direction of those distant figures.

  Gibb turned in his saddle. “Sadly, no return run then, and I refuse to canter sedately like a dowager. Shall we go back thataway instead?” He pointed to a little-used path. “We can skirt the fringes then, and leave where we need to.” He hesitated, as if unsure how to proceed. “I would like to escort you.” His words sounded as if he’d had no idea he was about to say them. “Ah, as an acquaintance, you understand.”

  Evangeline nodded. Truth be told, she was loath to leave him so soon. There was something about the man who intrigued her more with every passing moment. She made a note to quiz Eloise when she returned from her ride and find out what her friend knew about one Gibb Alford, the Duke of Menteith.

  “Of course, my lord…as an acquaintance, I accept.” She grinned and watched a line of red run from under his cravat and suffuse his face. “I have few of them,” she added rapidly, somewhat angry with herself for her attitude. “A person whom I want to know in that way—such as you—will be most welcome.”

  “There are many you’d prefer not to have?” he asked shrewdly as they walked their horses toward the far corner of the park. “Crowe being one of them?”

  “Crowe, that was his name. I thought it Crewe or Crawe, and had decided it was very apt.” Evangeline grimaced. “Nasty vicious things, both of them.”

  Gibb laughed. “True, but he will bother you no more.”

  She looked up at him, startled. “What have you done?”

  He shrugged. “I did nothing, but I know his attitude toward you will not have gone unremarked even before his actions in the garden. He is not liked by all and it takes little for someone such as him to be ignored and passed over for events.” He paused as they skirted three bushes and a lone dog. “It will be ignominious for him to realize that. Sadly, he is not the sort to accept defeat in a graceful way and may decide to take his banishment out on you. I hope you will let me know if any such thing happens.”

  “Let him try,” Evangeline said, confident she would cope. “He will not succeed. I have more spine than to let such a one intimidate me.” She didn’t promise anything. Becoming reliant on someone was not in her nature.

  “No, he will not succeed, I can agree and promise you that, because I will not give him the chance,” Gibb replied harshly. His tone surprised her. He sounded almost as if it mattered. “I cannot and will not stand to one side and watch a man treat a woman so poorly.” He ran his finger around the edge of his cravat and seemed startled at his response. “I er…” He lapsed into silence. “Your promise?”

  “My lord? What is it to you?” she had to ask. After all, they hardly knew each other. “I find it impossible to allow myself to be beholden to you. I need to look after myself.”

  Gibb pulled his horse to a stop where they were shielded from the main area of the park by a dense stand of trees. Evangeline followed suit and waited to hear what he said next.

  “I want,” he said slowly, “something I vowed I would never want or do. To make it my business to get to know you better, and I have to tell you, it goes against the grain of everything I have promised myself.” His voice was hollow, his face pale, and his expression brought tears to Evangeline’s eyes. Not since the Terrors in France had she seen such anguish in a person.

  “How do you mean?” It made no sense to her.

  He shrugged. “That when my wife died I vowed never again would I be responsible for someone else’s wellbeing and happiness.”

  He was a widower? Evangeline looked at his blank expression and understood not to query his statement. Not then. “My condolences, my…Gibb.”

  “Thank you. Evangeline, you,” he added with a smile, “intrigue me and I have a feeling you need a friend.”

  “As you do?” she asked shrewdly.

  “As I do.” He opened his eyes wide. Golden specks showed in the smoky irises and for one moment lightened his somber countenance and took ten years from his age. “Much to my amazement, as I do.” His lashes flickered and blocked his expression. When he raised them he was once more the rather private, unemotional man he portrayed to the world.

  “Then of course, friend,” Evangeline said with a lilt to her voice. “I can’t curtsey on a horse, please consider it essayed in my mind. Pleased to meet you.”

  He threw back his head and laughed. “I foresee a lot of interesting happenings in our future…friend.”

  Chapter Three

  To have feelings after such a long time was a nuisance. Gibb pondered over his massive change of heart as he dressed for his visit to the House of Lords later that day. His decision that he would like her as a friend had come almost as a surprise, but he experienced a rush of relief that he had made the resolution and acted on it. Someone to talk to and spend undemanding time with would be more than welcome. Gibb knew that although his acquaintances numbered many, his true friends could be counted on one hand.

  He had escorted Evangeline back to the stables, where, to his relief, a young footman waited for her return, then made arrangements to meet her at the same place and time the following day. That would allow them to decide how their friendship should proceed. Meanwhile he would carry on as normal.

  Satisfied he looked neat and tidy—he was long past emulating the pink of the ton set who put themselves forward as arbiters of fashion—Gibb left his home and made his way to the Palace of Westminster. The law he wanted to make his speech about, the Poor Law, was one that needed a lot of work. Gibb himself ran his estates in an exemplary manner. His workers were housed in dwellings that were sturdy, did not leak and were not overrun with vermin. They earned enough to keep their families adequately fed and clothed and their children at school. It was a well-known fact amongst the people who lived and worked the duke’s estates that he believed in education for all. That way, he said, everyone benefited.

  Although shirkers and the work-shy were given short shrift, those too old or infirm to pay their way weren’t forgotten or left to fend for themselves. Gibb’s almshouses were a credit to him. He wished everyone realized what was needed to maintain and grow the country’s wealth and prosperity. It was a sad fact that many didn’t or were not prepared to expend energy or money to achieve what was needed. It grieved Gibb to see so many of his peers oblivious—or deliberately blind—to the suffering of so many of their fellow countrymen. However, he was honest enough to accept he couldn’t change everything, just do what he could.

  Several hours later, and with, he hoped, his speech as well received as he could have expected, he joined the mass exodus from the Houses of Parliament with no fixed destination in mind.

  * * * *

  “A good night, last evening, what?” George Doncaster asked him as they chatted in the courtyard. Now official business was over most of the peers who had attended were on their way to business of a less official nature.

  “As you say,” Gibb agreed as he nodded to several people who passed by and was clapped on the shoulder by one.

  “Excellent speech, Alford. You have the gift of the gab.”

  Gibb smiled his thanks. If his speech helped the correct laws to be passed that was all that mattered.

  “He’s right, Gibb. You were just what some of these old dodders needed. Waking up. Just like last night.”

  “Something

  different,” Gibb replied in a level voice as he wondered where the conversation was going.

  Doncaster nodded sagely. “True enough, and also just what was needed. Ah, apart from that idiot Crowe afterward. I hear you gave him what for. Silly man. He has a pea for a brain.”

  Gibb inclined his head in agreement as they made their way without haste through a bunch of peers gathered in the hallway. “The lady needed little help from me.”

  “Caught him unawares, did she? He never pays
attention to things.” Doncaster pronounced his observations sagely. “It’ll be his comeuppance one day. You know, at Watier’s the other night he never even noticed he’d discarded two jacks.” He shook his head. “The stupidity of some people.”

  “As you say, but best not to dwell on them or Crowe and his shortcomings too loudly, eh?” It might not be a good idea to let it be known Crowe had been worsted with ease by a female. He would be mortified enough without adding to his humiliation, and Gibb wanted no comeback to befall Evangeline.

  “Good point. The man’s a sore loser. So, I wondered, no Beck, eh?” Doncaster changed the subject and rattled on. He appeared oblivious to the way Gibb paid attention with half his mind. “Still up north?”

  “Veronique is due to be confined within weeks,” Gibb said, glad to talk about something else. “He didn’t want to travel and leave her and she didn’t want to endure the travel. Hence, as you say, no Beck.”

  They reached the door and Gibb made his farewells to his colleague, laughed off the man’s entreaties to join him and a close band of cronies for supper and cards at a select gambling house that admitted only a chosen few and made his way toward a hackney stance. To hail a carriage and driver was easier than asking his coachman to hang around until he was ready to be driven to wherever he chose to go. As the House didn’t sit until four p.m., evening sessions could go on and on if no successful outcome could be achieved.

  It would have been easy to join his friends and acquaintances. He knew his attendance would not be queried, and indeed he would be welcomed in the gambling house with open arms. Nevertheless it held no interest for him. He and the lady owner, one Miss Elizabeth Burn, had once upon a time been more than good friends. They had parted amicably, but it felt wrong to just walk in without giving her prior notice. Not that he thought she would mind, especially if he ended up the loser, but even so, he didn’t feel it was something he wished to do.