Chapter 11
Not for the first time since arriving at Clifford Manor, Evan wondered if he had made a horrible mistake by coming here. He was certain the viscountess didn’t know how her voice echoed in the manor, and he had heard every word she said to her daughter.
“Make yourself presentable, go downstairs, and beg for forgiveness for your transgressions. Perhaps he will be merciful.” The words rang in his ears.
He knew he was stern and aloof, and he had a way of intimidating people, but before this Season, he hadn’t realized how many people considered him to be a heartless monster.
Even Joanna, who had been so full of life on their dates, now looked at him as if she were approaching her executioner.
The viscount cleared his throat and stood up. “The viscountess and I will leave to give you two some privacy. It was an honor to meet you, Your Grace.” He bowed to the duke.
Evan stood up and inclined his head. “It was a pleasure to meet you as well, Viscount.” The two of them had made small talk about matters in the House of Lords for the better part of an hour.
The older man was visibly nervous around the duke, but Evan had to admit he still possessed good breeding and sound judgment when it came to matters of politics. He had endured worse conversations by far.
The housekeeper came into the drawing room as the viscount left, most likely to act as chaperone. Evan noticed the woman currently standing at attention was a different one from her chaperone on their dates. Perhaps the older woman was the real Penelope’s maid.
Joanna sat down in the chair across from him. “I didn’t think I would see you again, Your Grace,” she said as she poured tea for both of them. “To what do we owe the honor?”
“I wanted to see you again.” He still wasn’t sure if it was wise that he was here, in this ruined manor. Everything around him told him to run while he still could.
No doubt, the drawing room was the most presentable room in the house, set up for the occasional guest. But it was still barren and shabby. The upholstery in the chairs was worn down and slightly ripped in one corner, and the table needed to be polished and re-stained.
Very little decorated the walls except for fading wallpaper and two still-life paintings that looked amateurish in nature. He would not be surprised if Joanna herself had painted them as part of her education.
If this was the state of the drawing room, then he shuddered to think about what the rest of the house looked like, strategically hidden from prying eyes behind closed doors. Even his butler and housekeeper had more lavish living conditions than this.
He kept his expression schooled as he drank the tea from the plain china mugs and tasted the tea cakes, which were acceptable, but plain compared to what he was used to. “How are you, Miss Thorne?”
“I am quite well, thank you.” She looked at him warily. “I must tell you again how truly sorry I am for my part in the deception. It was wicked of me, and I hope to correct any harm my actions have caused you. Please do not hold my actions against my family.”
“I am not here to seek retribution. I assure you, I am quite unharmed.” He tried for a smile, but he was sure it looked more like a strained grimace. He was never skilled at looking pleasant on purpose.
She frowned. “Then what reason could you have for calling on me?”
“If you recall, at the gallery, I proposed that we would court for the remainder of the Season to keep suitors away from you.”
She lowered her eyes. “Yes, I remember. The real Lady Penelope would have been most grateful for such a generous offer.”
“I am not interested in Lady Penelope, however. It was you who caught my attention. I would like to alter that proposal.”
She looked up at him, looking curious but still quite wary. “I must admit, I am intrigued, Your Grace.”
“I want to publicly court you for the remainder of the Season. I am not looking to marry, but it will give me an excuse to stop going on dates with other ladies of the ton.”
He had gone out for tea with Lady Katherine Preston three days ago, just as he had told his grandmother he would. The date was bland and unmemorable. Lady Katherine had been polite, of course, but she seemed just as uninterested in his company as he was in hers.
They had met at the same tea shop he had met with Miss Thorne. Unlike Joanna, Lady Katherine Preston was the picture of grace as she sipped her tea. “The weather has been nice today,” she had offered by way of conversation.
“Indeed,” he said. “We’re fortunate to have so many sunny days in a row. I’ve had the pleasure of taking many walks in the garden.” He reached for the tea pot a little too suddenly and didn’t miss how she flinched away from him, putting her hands in her lap.
The young lady tried to cover it up with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Oh, I do love walks in the garden. I particularly enjoy the scent of roses this year. Do you have a favorite flower?”
The stilted and strained conversation continued until the date ended, with a half pot of tea and a full plate of scones left on the table. Her relief was ill-concealed as she left with her chaperone and he was relieved to retreat back to the comfort of his manor.
If he spent the rest of the Season attempting to date young ladies who wanted nothing to do with him, then he would surely go mad.
“Are you not worried about your reputation?” She asked. “Even coming here today risks you being associated with us.”
“Perhaps those so-called risks would hurt other dukes. But not someone as powerful as I. I enjoy your company.” He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her for the past week.
It was like she had a magnetic pull that drew him to her.
As the days went on, his concerns about being associated with the Viscount of Clifford started to feel more and more trivial.
But he would not tell her that. “I am prepared to make this arrangement beneficial to you, too.”
She frowned. “I am not sure what you mean.”
“For every date you go on with me, I will compensate you. I will sponsor you for the Season and gather dowries for you and your sister.” It felt crass to offer to pay her, and he felt ashamed of it, but the state of the house was proof enough that the scandal sheets were not exaggerating about the Thornes’ financial straits.
Joanna didn’t need a suitor, not really. She needed money. He was willing to provide her with as much financial compensation as she required if it meant she accepted his deal.
She didn’t look insulted, as he had feared. Instead, she looked thoughtful. Her brow knitted in confusion. “Why me?” she asked. “Why would you go through all of this trouble for me?”
He didn’t know how to describe it. How could he tell her that he could not get her beauty out of his mind?
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her mischievous smile.
As he fell asleep, it was too easy to recall her scent as he leaned in to kiss her at the gallery.
She haunted his dreams and plagued his thoughts when he was awake.
All he knew was he wanted her by his side for the rest of the Season.
But he could not say that. So instead, he arched an eyebrow in her direction.
“I want you because a hawk never backs down from the hunt.”
“But surely you would prefer someone who isn’t—”
“Hush,” he said, leaning forward. “You played with fire when you agreed to help your friend out. If you wanted to stay home this Season, then you never should have gotten the attention of a man like me.”
Her cheeks turned pink, even as she raised her eyebrows at him.
“And what sort of man are you, Your Grace?” Her voice was slightly breathless, and he relished in the sound of it.
It would be so easy to move the tea table out of the way so he could grab her and pull her toward him, perhaps even onto his lap.
She was leaning forward in her chair. Her tongue darted out briefly to lick her lips, and she probably didn’t even realize she had done so.
Fuck, she had no idea the things he wanted to do to her, if given half a chance.
He forced himself to lean back in his seat and meet her eyes, hoping she would not see how she made him half-crazed with desire.
“I am the type of man that people don’t say no to.
I promised I would make it worth your while, and I intend to make good on that promise.
But you will be mine this Season, I assure you. ”
If she were truly uninterested, he would forget the whole business. But her expression was full of longing, just like it was at the gallery. Her only objection so far had been on his behalf. Not hers.
Joanna bit her lip, and he had to focus to keep his gaze from dropping to look at her mouth. He wondered what those sweet lips would taste like if he kissed them. Would she let him?
“I accept your proposal,” Joanna said. “But on one condition. I will be yours in name only. There will be no touching or kissing.”
He smirked, even as he felt a pang of disappointment. “Miss Thorne, just because you have a pretty mouth, it does not mean I want to kiss it.”
She returned his smirk. “So you find my mouth pretty, Your Grace? I am flattered.”
Unable to help himself any longer, his gaze went to her soft pink lips. As he looked at them, he could not think of a single retort to say.
She smiled at seeing him at a loss for words. “There is one more thing, Your Grace. No one can know about this deal. Not even my parents.” She turned to the housekeeper. “Mrs. Lucas, do you agree?”
The older lady looked startled at being addressed at all. But she nodded. “Yes, miss. I think that is prudent.”
Evan frowned. “Why can’t your parents know?”
Her smile turned bitter. “Because if my father knew you were paying me for every date, then he would make sure Aurelia never saw a cent of that money. All of it would be spent at the card table.”
He tried to imagine how it must feel to have a father who gambled away his family’s fortune until they were all destitute. He lost his parents when he was only nine, but he had grown up knowing he could trust them to protect him and Peter. They always did their best to do right by their children.
Meanwhile, Joanna had to look on helplessly as her family’s safety and well-being fell into shambles. “You have my word,” he said solemnly. “I will not tell your parents, and I will ensure you and your sister are provided for.”
Relief spread across her face. “Thank you, Your Grace.”
“I will announce our courtship at the next ball. Of course, I will see to it that you receive a proper invitation. It is short notice, but I am sure you can make the proper arrangements regarding attire. I will take care of any expenses.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
The excitement was clear on her face, and it made him feel warm inside.
He was happy he could provide at least this for her, even if a real courtship wasn’t in their future.
After all, he truly didn’t want to marry.
He knew what it felt like to lose a loved one, and if he fell in love and married, only to lose her, then would invoke too much pain in his life.
He turned to leave. “Until then.”