Chapter 5
Evan stormed into Blackwell Manor and found Peter in the library, reviewing financial records. His brother looked up as soon as he entered. “I assume the date did not go as well as grandmother hoped,” he said. “I do hope you didn’t make the young lady cry.”
“On the contrary, she was the one who aimed to insult. Not I.” In his irritation, his voice came out in a low growl as he paced around the library.
Peter raised his eyebrows and leaned back in his chair, giving his brother his full attention. “It appears she was successful, then. I admit I am intrigued. I have never seen someone agitate you like this.”
“I am not agitated.” He snapped.
Peter merely smiled. “Of course, Your Grace. It was so silly of me to suggest such a thing.”
Evan rolled his eyes. When they were alone, his brother only used formalities to mock him. “She said I looked like a hawk,” he muttered.
Peter laughed. “Indeed?”
“It’s not funny! She had the audacity to insult me to my face.”
“Well, I must admit, it’s an astute observation,” he said. “I can see some bird-like tendencies with you. However, I would say you look more like a pigeon.”
“Now you are just trying to get a rise out of me, just like her.”
“Yes, indeed.” He chuckled. “Was that all she did?”
“No. She was very late, and she acted barbarically the entire time. She talked with her mouth full. She spilled tea on me, and…” He stopped pacing and looked at his brother. “I want your word that you will not tell Grandmother what I am about to tell you.”
He frowned and leaned forward. “Why are you so serious, brother? Am I going to find your name or Lady Penelope’s name on the scandal sheets tomorrow?”
“Give me your word, Peter.”
“Fine. I give you my word. I will not tell Grandmother, or anyone else for that matter.”
Evan breathed a sigh of relief. “I want to see her again. Possibly even court her.” He felt unsettled at the thought of courting a woman, because that led to marriage, which he still did not want.
All he wanted was to see Lady Penelope again, and courting her would be the only socially acceptable way he could spend large amounts of time with her.
Peter grinned. “Truly?”
“Yes. But you can’t—”
“I know, I know. I will not tell Grandmother that her scheming paid off. It will only encourage her to start planning my wedding as well as your own. But if you intend to court Lady Penelope, then you will have to tell her eventually.”
He grimaced, knowing Peter was correct. He knew his grandmother would be smug and delighted to find out he was courting someone.
But when he inevitably ended the courtship, she would be heartbroken.
“Of course I will tell her. Just not yet. I must get Lady Penelope to agree to courtship first. Apparently, I failed to meet her low expectations for the date.”
Peter smirked. “I admit, I am actually looking forward to meeting the young lady myself. She sounds like the most memorable creature.”
“Indeed, she is. I will send a note, inviting her on a date next week,” Evan said. He smiled. “She dared to call me a hawk. Then I will not give up until I catch my prey.”
His brother rolled his eyes and started to gather up his financial papers. “You sound absurd, but I’m sure that’s what love does to a person. I’ll leave you to your brooding and pining. Do not worry. I won’t tell Grandmother that her plan worked.”
“Good,” he said. “Because if you do, I will see to it that you date every eligible lady until you announce your engagement.”
Peter shuddered in mock horror and left the library.
Evan paced around the room, belatedly realizing that he did not correct his brother when he implied Evan was in love with Lady Penelope.
But that notion was absurd. He barely knew her, after all.
All he knew was he was intrigued by her and wanted to see her again.
Not many people had the courage to insult him to his face and he found that entertaining.
Until then, he needed to keep his mind off of her.
Otherwise, his thoughts would drift too close to how beautiful she was when she blushed, and how much he wanted to slowly undress her and reveal her sensual curves beneath that dress.
He could easily silence that outrageous mouth of hers with some maneuvers of his own…
He stood up and started to pace as his arousal had his blood rushing downward. He couldn’t think of her that way. She was a lady, after all.
To distract himself, he picked up a piece of reading material off of the writing desk and started to read.
Only after he started to read did he realize he was holding up that morning’s copy of the scandal sheets.
He grimaced, but figured it was better than indulging in rakish fantasies about a young lady. He began to read:
The Viscount of Folly was up to his usual mischief last night at the cards table.
He was one of the last ones to leave the table and rumor has it, he ended up leaving with tears in his eyes and not a penny in his possession.
The only silver lining for him is even common pickpockets would know he is beneath their attention, so he must have enjoyed a safe, albeit shameful walk home.
However, this writer is less fascinated with foolish viscounts than cold dukes.
One cannot help but wonder who the Duke of Ice will ruin this Season.
Who will be the target of his wrath? Every man with even a small amount of sense would know better than to cross him now, but even if the entire ton cowers and before him, he will surely find someone to toy with.
Rumor has it that the duke only feels pleasure when he’s hurting someone.
Surely he will find someone to toy with this Season and this writer pities his next victim.
Evan’s lip curled in disgust as he tossed the scandal sheet aside. He rarely paid attention to them and forgot how absurd and cruel they could be. He only hoped Lady Penelope knew better than to take them seriously. Otherwise, she would truly want nothing to do with him.