Chapter 24
The sky was barely light when Richard set out with the dogs for Mayfair. It was only four miles to the Bennet house, but he had been told to arrive as early as he could, and he had had difficulty restraining himself this long.
He was impatient to see her again.
When she had come to him, saying her brother had asked her to return to London to chaperone her niece, he had understood.
He didn’t have the highest respect for Sir George Bennet and his wife, but he knew Evangeline loved her niece and held her blameless for the rupture in their family.
Richard had smiled and said of course she must go, and had sent his best wishes for Lady Bennet’s health.
He had even agreed to keep Louis, as Evangeline didn’t think her sister-in-law would like the dog in her house.
The Pomeranian had not been pleased to be left in Chelsea.
Richard had had to shut him up, barking hysterically, in the morning room when Evangeline left, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief.
It had made him smile wryly, how devoted she and her spoiled little pup were.
“I feel the same way,” he’d told the dog, once she was gone and Louis had exhausted himself.
And now she had been away for a week. Humberton Hall had never felt so dull and dreary.
Richard was mildly unsettled by that. It wasn’t as if they had never spent time apart.
There had been illnesses, guests, visits with Clemency to see the boys at school .
. . Still, knowing that he couldn’t walk through the woods past the pond and see her, just for a few minutes, cast a pall over his days that he hadn’t expected.
Louis trotted eagerly at his side. The dog had been reluctant to get up from his cushion by the hearth until Richard said Evangeline’s name, at which point Louis leapt up and ran to the door, barking excitedly and raring to go. Again, he found himself in complete agreement with Louis.
They reached South Audley Street in good time, though Louis began to flag after the third mile.
Richard slowed his pace and was beginning to think he would have to carry the little beast when they encountered a pack of geese, being driven to market.
The Pomeranian exploded in a flurry of barking that sparked an uproar among the geese, a flurry of shouting from the boy shepherding them, and Richard scooped up the incensed Louis with a hasty apology.
“Stop that,” he scolded the dog, thankful for Hercule walking placidly alongside him.
Louis gave one last bark, his short tail wagging fiercely, then licked Richard’s hand.
“That will not work on me,” he said sternly. “You must behave.”
Another lick, then Louis rested his head on Richard’s arm with a gusty sigh.
“We are almost there,” he said in amusement. “I suspect she will have bacon waiting for you.” Louis perked up and barked happily, and Hercule danced a few steps, having also recognized the word.
South Audley Street was quiet at this hour, with the rising sun just peeping over the neighboring rooftops.
He knocked instead of pulling the bell, as instructed, and it was swept open at once.
“Good morning, sir,” said the butler. He didn’t blink an eye at the orange dog in Richard’s arm, now wriggling fiercely because Evangeline had come into the hall.
For a moment Richard felt stunned immobile. God, she was beautiful, her dark hair pinned up loosely in the soft way he liked so much, wearing a rose dress that flattered her curves. He’d missed her so much.
“Good morning,” she said, coming forward, her dark eyes glowing with welcome.
Somehow he managed to bow, and then he set Louis on the floor.
The Pomeranian was too excited to bark, and was making desperate whining noises.
His claws scrabbled on the marble floor as he ran to his mistress and jumped at her skirts until she scooped him up in her arms and got her hands licked thoroughly.
“And good morning to you, my sweet boy,” she said, laughing, as she tried to fend off the licking.
She put down the dog as Richard handed off his coat and hat to the servant, then beckoned him into a small but bright breakfast room, where the table already held several steaming dishes.
Hercule trotted in after Louis, and got his head and ears thoroughly scratched, too.
Evangeline closed the door behind them and turned into his open arms.
“Mein Gott,” he breathed, pressing his face to her hair and inhaling deeply of her perfume. “I’ve missed you.”
She tugged at his jacket, tipping her smiling lips toward his. “Show me.”
He smiled and kissed her. He intended it to be brief, because they were standing in someone else’s house and who knew when servants might walk in, and he knew very well that he’d been invited to breakfast at dawn because Evangeline was nervous about her niece meeting him.
He suspected he wasn’t supposed to be here at all, given the stray remarks she’d made over the years about her sister-in-law.
And yet, when she caught his face in both hands and kissed him, all that faded away. He pulled her close and bore her back against the door. She made that sound in her throat, the one that conveyed surprise, delight, and desire all at once, and he felt as flushed and reckless as a boy.
Louis gave a sharp bark. Evangeline started, and Richard raised his head.
“Goodness,” she whispered, her mouth still red from his kiss. “What a bad influence you are, Sir Richard.”
He laughed and loosened his grip on her, raising her hand to his lips. “Have pity on a man who has been starved for affection and companionship.”
She blushed, but her dark eyes danced with laughter. “Starved! It has been six days.”
“It has felt like six years.”
“Pooh!” She shook her head, but she was still smiling intimately at him, and she let him lead her by the hand to the table. “I would swear it felt like no more than four years.”
He pulled out her chair. “Ah, but you have had much to distract you, while I was abandoned, with only poor Louis to remind me of you.”
Evangeline wrinkled her nose at him as she sat. Louis, hearing his name, emerged from beneath the table where he’d been hunting for crumbs, and put his paws on her skirt.
“See,” said Richard, taking his own seat. “He and I have been two sad and lonely wretches, doing our best to console each other.”
The dog was already on her lap, his little eyes scanning the table and his tongue hanging out as he panted in excitement. Evangeline stroked his head. “But now here you both are, much to my delight.” She paused and glanced at him. “Thank you, Richard, for being so understanding.”
He waved it aside. Now that he was here with her again, the inconvenience faded from his mind. “I do understand. How have you enjoyed your time here?”
She fed Louis a bit of bacon from the platter, and a larger piece to Hercule.
“Very well. Better than I expected, to be truthful. George and Marion had already left by the time I arrived, and poor Joan looked quite dazed and unsettled by the entire affair. But she and I are getting on very well, much to my relief.”
He smiled. “Were you truly worried?”
“I didn’t know,” she said. “It’s been so long since I saw her, and her mother . . .” Her smile faltered, then returned more determined. “But she’s a darling girl and I’m so delighted I can do this for her.”
“Was the information I sent helpful?”
She nodded. He had been serving them from the dishes on the table as they talked, and now she took a bite of berry compote. “Oh, yes. I didn’t want to trust my memory. It put my mind greatly at ease to learn I was not wrong.”
She had written to him the day after she arrived here, asking what he could discover about Viscount Burke.
Burke, a friend of the Bennets’ rather rakish son Douglas, appeared to have taken an interest in her niece, and she wished to know more about the young man before deciding how she should proceed.
Clemency had been all too willing to share a veritable flood of gossip and innuendo, and Richard had had to ask at his club for the truth. He’d sent a long letter two days ago.
“Very good.” He poured his coffee, then hesitated. “Perhaps that is all you should do, on that count.”
Evangeline blinked at him in surprise. “All? What do you mean?”
He held up one hand in surrender. “You have satisfied yourself that he is not a rogue or a fortune hunter. Is that not enough?”
She gave him a narrow-eyed look. “I’m sure I don’t know what you are suggesting.”
He grinned. “You know very well. You believe Miss Bennet fancies the fellow, and you are tempted to a little matchmaking.”
“Oh, Richard,” she said, then spoiled her stern tone by laughing. “And what if I do think she fancies him? It’s as plain as day that he fancies her.”
“Then he will not need your help,” he replied.
Everything he’d heard of Burke indicated the man was not shy about pursuing what he wanted.
Richard hadn’t passed on the most salacious bits of information, but if anything, he suspected Evangeline might have to protect her niece from the brash young viscount, rather than encourage her to accept any advances Burke might make.
She made a face. “Perhaps not. But I like to know what I’m dealing with.”
“Then he has approached her?”