was at stake. So bloody much. More than he could have ever imagined. And at the height of it all, her welfare. He was no closer to discovering who had been behind the shots taken at her now than he had been a fortnight ago. But all too soon, he would have to say his goodbye to her, to wish her the best. Return to East London where he belonged and forget he had ever met a woman as wonderful as Lady Evangeline Saltisford.
He forced himself to recall her initial query. Because you will not wish to see me?
There would never come a day.
But he said none of that. Instead, he forced himself to remain calm. Cold. To be as impenetrable as he had supposed himself to be.
“Thank you for the reading lessons, milady. Now, it is my turn to deliver in kind.”
What he meant was whittling lessons. Not that a lady such as herself would ever need them. A knife and wood—it was laughable, a duke’s daughter taking on such a talent. Hell, even he knew ladies were taught to ply their talents in needle and thread. In the ballroom. In the drawing room. Ladies were fashioned of silk and satin and propriety. He was made of wood and iron and wickedness.
“How do you propose to deliver in kind?” she asked him.
Setting him more aflame than he already had been with her innuendo, blast her.
“Well, Theo?” Her gold-brown gaze had settled upon his lips. Her stare was a touch, a brand. “How shall you deliver?”
He forgot to fret about everything in that moment, about the danger lurking like a shadow, about her society’s notion of rules, about what would happen later, about her becoming another man’s wife. For a moment, she was his. They were the only two people in the world. And he could not stop himself from taking her lips with his.
The marriage of their lips was hot, sending a jolt straight through him. He pressed harder, thrusting his tongue into her mouth. He had missed her lips. He had missed her responsiveness, the way her generous curves melted against him.
She tasted of sweetness, sugar, tea, bergamot, Evie. Everything that was delicious. Devil barely suppressed a groan as he deepened the kiss, their bodies aligning. He wanted every part of him to burn into her. To remind her what she would be missing, what she would lose, when she became Lady Dullerton.
He ended the kiss before he lost control, tearing his mouth from hers. The thought of her marrying another made bile rise in his throat. He swallowed it down, forced himself to think of Cora and her betrayal.
“There,” he forced himself to say. “Have I not delivered? Mayhap your Lord Dullerton will wish to thank me. If you will excuse me, milady. All our lessons are at an end.”
Without waiting for her to respond, he stalked from the chamber, nettled with her. More furious with himself for the weakness he had for her. For being stupid enough to allow himself to want her. If Cora, who had been born to the rookeries as he had, had been too good to marry him, what the hell did he think would come of dallying with Lady Evie?
Nothing that was good.
Devil stalked down the hall, deciding it was time for him to return to where he belonged before he did something even more witless.
The hour was desperately late. So late, the faint strains of dawn were lighting the sky where Evie had been keeping a window vigil in between frantic pacing of the chamber as the knot of worry in her stomach doubled, tripled, and finally quadrupled in size.
Theo had left their lessons without a backward glance earlier that day, and then he had left the townhome entirely. What was worse—he had yet to return. She knew because the window at which she stood, the carefully made bed behind her, and the chamber she had been pacing were all his. She had gone to his chamber after he had not accompanied her in the library as had become his habit to listen to the conclusion of Romeo and Juliet.
Without him there, Evie had not had the heart to continue on. It had not felt right. Nothing without him felt right. She could not explain the change that had come over her this last fortnight. Devil Winter made her feel the way Romeo made Juliet feel. But she had no wish for their tale to be a tragedy.
She never wanted