Eve was light of heart and happy during the days that followed. She knew she was becoming more and more attracted to Maxim and she told herself she need have no fear. She was no innocent, and she would always remember the sort of man she was dealing with—a man of the world with a reputation as a philanderer, perhaps looking for amusement while he was in London. She was determined not to forget that and pride herself on her common sense.
But during the days that followed she was able to set that aside. He seemed to go out of his way to please her, making the days a wonderful medley of shifting emotions, days when she could be happy and carefree. She gave herself up to the sheer enjoyment presented to her and looked forward to their outings. They visited the pleasure gardens and took a trip on the river, and it was on their visits to the galleries that she saw a different, more serious side to him, discovering he was something of a connoisseur of art and that his knowledge of England’s history was profound. Their discussions were highly enjoyable, often heated, sometimes critical of the other’s opinions.
Her sisters quietly watched these expeditions with interest and were curious as to where these outings were leading, but Eve assured them they had no need to fear. They were happy days and she savoured them to the full. But these halcyon days were coming to an end and the time was coming when she would have to return to Surrey.
At the end of two weeks, she had an uneasy feeling that she was becoming Maxim’s victim. She had lost sight of that fact in her joy of being with him. From the moment she had met him she had been telling herself she was drawn to this man because of his compelling good looks and his powerful animal magnetism. She had almost convinced herself that it was so, that the strange hold he had over her was merely his ability to awaken an intense sexual hunger within her. But that was just the tip of the iceberg, because what she felt for Maxim Randall went way beyond anything physical. It was something deeper, something dangerously enduring, which had been weaving its spell to bind them inexorably together.
They were in the carriage on yet another visit to the theatre. Unable to resist her, Maxim had drawn her to his side and, taking her in his arms, kissed her soundly. He broke the kiss but kept his arms around her. She relaxed against him. Touching her face, he bent his head to rest his forehead close to hers. ‘You see?’ he said, his breathing ragged as he looked into her eyes, ‘How much power you have when you choose to wield it?’
Eve did see that she, who had convinced herself she had no influence over anything in her life, felt as captivating and alluring as the most beautiful woman on earth. A joy she had never felt before blossomed inside her.
‘Thank you,’ she said, ‘For making the kiss so enjoyable. I feel I must tell you that you have a strange effect on me, Maxim Randall. When you took it upon yourself to interfere in my life, I was determined to dislike you. I tried, but for the short time we have been together I have seen a different man to the one I had painted in my mind, a man who melted my self-engendered resistance. I resented that. I wanted to dislike you, but that didn’t work either. And, now you have kissed me again, I no longer know what to think.’
He gazed down at her seriously. ‘High praise indeed. It would seem you are confused about me, Eve. I can see your dilemma.’
‘Can you?’ She believed he could. Maxim Randall had a razor-sharp perception of her deepest fears. ‘I have been so unsure of myself. Because of who you are and your somewhat dubious reputation I didn’t want to like you, but when you came to London and sought me out—I unwittingly made more problems for myself that I bargained for.’
‘And that scares you?’
‘Yes, if you must know. Yes, it does.’
Maxim was both touched and faintly amused by her confession. ‘Do you fear me, Eve?’
‘No, not you,’ she said quietly, feeling his eyes on her, causing the colour in her cheeks to deepen. ‘It’s what you might do to me that I’m afraid of.’
Raising his hand, he touched her cheek with the backs of his fingers. A wonderful languor began to swell inside her, spreading through her with a glorious warm sensation. It didn’t seem possible that the feelings she had for Maxim were growing out of all proportion. No matter how hard she tried to fight them, they grew stronger and stronger the more they were together until there was nothing but this joyous moment dominating her every waking moment. He let his hand drop. Eve looked into his eyes. They were narrowed and intent, glowing with need, with warmth.
‘I should have known what would happen when I sought you out here in London. You are not a woman a man can ignore. I want you, Eve. I’ve had many women—I cannot deny that, or that I enjoyed each one—but none of them meant anything to me. They were a diversion. Would that you were a diversion too.’
Eve gazed at him. ‘I might well have been that for this short time, but I shall have to go home soon.’
‘Are you telling me you are getting homesick?’
‘No, not really, but I have been away too long as it is. Besides, I have taken up too much of your time.’
‘The time has not been wasted, Eve. Quite the opposite.’
‘I have enjoyed our outings. These past days have been most agreeable. I hope they have been for you too.’
His answer was to lean towards her and kiss her softly. His touch sent a delightful shiver of pleasure inside her. Their lips touched once and then twice, and then she tasted the tip of his tongue, tasting of heat and wicked temptations. Eve responded by parting her lips softly under his and welcoming his kiss, tangling her fingers in his thick, dark hair, savouring the feel of his hands as they moulded and teased her breasts that ached to be free of the restricting gown.
‘Don’t go yet,’ he murmured, his lips close to hers, his breath warm on her flesh. ‘I think you know well enough to deduce certain things about the way matters are between us. I would like us to get to know each other better.’
Eve knew what he was asking of her, and she was ashamed that it presented some temptation. Why had she let it go so far? Why had she allowed her emotions to become involved? He had not suggested an affair—which would be exciting and torrid—or marriage, and at this present time she wanted neither. She wanted freedom now—to throw caution to the wind, no encumbrances. Her aching body wanted more from him.
And why not? she asked herself. There was a part of her that understood the danger of giving herself to this man. Not so much the loss of her innocence, since she had lost it already. That did not concern her, but the knowledge that Maxim Randall could steal her heart did.
The voice, however, was easily drowned beneath the sensual flood of pleasure that raced through her body at his closeness. Her arms lifted and circled his neck. She felt as if she had been waging a war against fate since the day she had met him. In this moment she did not want to fight against destiny. She wanted to lower the ruthless barriers she had erected around herself since her marriage to Matthew, and for a short while, just be a happy, carefree young woman who desired a man. She wanted Maxim Randall, and damn the consequences.
Maxim raised his head after yet another kiss and gazed down at her flushed face, her eyes shining in the dim light. ‘I would like to take you home with me, but I think I should let you go while I still can.’
‘You don’t have to...’ She searched his eyes, then she smiled mischievously, drawing her fingertips along his clean-shaven chin. ‘We don’t have to go to the theatre, do we?’
‘No, not if you don’t want to—if there is something else you would rather do.’
‘Well,’ she said, moving closer to him, her eyes never leaving his. ‘I can think of something that would be far more pleasurable than watching actors prance about on a stage.’
His eyes narrowed and he chuckled softly. ‘Are you saying what I think you are? Because if that is the case then I will tell you that I am in need of a bed—with you in it.’
‘I’m serious, Maxim. Do you mind? We can go to the theatre any time.’
He grinned. ‘I like your priorities. It was not what I anticipated.’
‘I am no dewy-eyed innocent who is foolish enough to presume a few kisses and making love are nothing less than a declaration of any kind of commitment—as well you know, Maxim. I don’t expect anything of you.’ She smiled. ‘You don’t seem as shocked by my proposal as I would have expected.’
He grinned lopsidedly, looking deep into her gaze with an expression of such tenderness that it made Eve’s heart ache in the strangest way. ‘Nothing shocks me any more, Eve.’
‘I’m relieved to hear that.’
He drew back, holding her gaze. ‘Oh?’
‘Yes. So I think I would like you to take me home with you. Besides, I haven’t seen inside your town house. I would be most interested.’
Maxim couldn’t believe what she was saying. He stared down at her. She had it in her to entice and arouse him, and he knew that if he took her to his home now, at once, then he would fall into the soft pit of hot delight she was offering. The need to make love to her had become like a dam, preventing the flow of normal thought and conversation. He loved the feel of her in his arms, enjoyed kissing her and he knew exactly what he wanted.
A small part of him, which was detached from the physical, was amazed and delighted at the strength and determination of her in wanting this. But his male body had wilfully taken over from his careful, sensible male mind. He looked at her for a long moment, thinking she appeared to capture the very essence and allure of a woman who could tempt a man to barter his very soul to own her.
‘Then I will be happy for you to see it.’
Instructing the driver to take them back, they soon arrived and entered Maxim’s grand mansion in Mayfair.
The door was opened by a rotund butler called Travis attired in a black uniform. Maxim told her he had been with the Randall family for years. Eve stood awkwardly in the hall, which was a vision of white marble and pillars, elegant paintings, mirrors and light. Taking her arm, Maxim escorted her into a sitting room. Tastefully furnished in a combination of classical furnishings and breath-taking works of art, it was decorated in soothing shades of ivory and a pale shade of blue. Oriental carpets shimmered with red, gold and blue on the floor. Like the rest of the house, the room possessed a simple elegance. A fire burned in the marble fireplace and fresh flowers were arranged in a Grecian vase on a sideboard.
She moved to the window. The moon was bright in the dark-violet sky, shining in untroubled serenity over the garden.
‘Eve.’
There was movement behind her and the voice that spoke her name was deep, warm and loving. She closed her eyes, feeling the dizzy aura of him, unable to resist it. Wanting to savour the sound of it, she didn’t turn, although she could imagine his eyes in the moonlight shining with an expression she would like to think he had given to no woman but her.
She heard him come closer, his footsteps almost soundless on the thick carpet, and then he was directly behind her, so close she could feel the warmth of him on her back. Then his arms snaked around her waist. He pulled her back and she sank into him. Holding her to his chest, he buried his face into the curve of her neck, his lips warm, caressing her flesh. Sighing, she began to melt, feeling a languorous magic drift over her.
‘Mmm...’ He breathed, his teeth nibbling her earlobe. ‘You smell of roses.’ His arms tightened about her and his voice was husky. ‘Do you know...? Have you any idea how much I want you, Eve? Will you not turn round and tell me you feel the same?’
She turned slowly, shivering slightly, for she felt the full force of his masculinity, his vigour, the strong pull of his magnetism which she knew was his need for her, wrap itself about her. His face was all shadow and planes in the candles’ glow, his cheekbones taut, his lips slightly parted. He was so tall, so handsome. She felt a hollow ache inside her as he gazed down at her. She lifted her face and he placed his lips on hers, gently, barely discernible.
Raising his head, he took her head between his hands and splayed his fingers over her cheeks, looking into the liquid depths of her eyes. ‘You are so incredibly lovely, Eve Lansbury. I wonder if you have any idea just how lovely you are.’
His voice was soft and melodious. Eve stood very still, barely able to breathe, yet she was trembling inside.
‘Come to bed with me, Eve.’
‘What about the servants? Won’t they be shocked to see you taking a strange woman up to your bed chamber?’
He laughed softly. ‘Not one bit. Besides, they have all retired for the night...’
‘The butler?’
‘Forget about Travis. He is the soul of discretion and will now have retired.’
Taking her hand, he led her back out into the hall and up the curved double staircase to the upper landing. Eve took note of the white marble statues that were set in alcoves along the landing. Maxim opened the door to a large, elegant bed chamber dominated by a large four-poster bed with green and gold velvet hangings.
‘Oh, what a lovely room...’ Eve breathed, gazing around her with awe.
‘I’m glad you think so,’ Maxim said, drawing her close. ‘But I did not ask you here to impress you with my bed chamber.’
When he took her lips, she offered so eagerly and she moaned with pleasure. His mouth moulded and caressed, savouring, his tongue invading the dewy softness with hot need. It was a wild, wanton kiss. Heat catapulted through her, setting her whole body on fire. She knew her vulnerability and seriously doubted that she could raise a hand to hold him off if she’d wanted to. Did it matter that they weren’t wed when his mouth, his hands and his powerful body were demanding things from her that she knew she could give him, things she wanted as badly as he did?
They shed their clothes on the way to the bed, Maxim’s eyes devouring every inch of her perfectly proportioned body. Her breasts were small and round and when Maxim kissed them she gave low moans of pleasure. Finding her lips, he kissed her again, long and deep.
‘I want you inside me.’ Her voice was husky as she sank onto the bed, pulling him down with her. She wanted him desperately and just now nothing mattered but that.
He gathered her into his arms, his silver-light eyes staring into her very soul. The firm, hard muscles of his body pressed against hers, and the exploration of his hands on her flesh, gentle and caressing, his lips devouring and tender, had Eve glowing and purring like a kitten.
A need began to grow in her as his caresses grew bolder. She felt on the threshold of something great, an overwhelming discovery. She shivered as his fingers stroked the swell of her breasts and continued over her flat belly and on to curve of her hips and inner thighs. What he was doing to her felt as though she were being imprisoned in a cocoon of dangerous sensuality. She moaned and fought against the tumult of frayed emotions, but no effort of hers could bring about the quieting of her nerves.
Trapped beneath the exquisite promise of Maxim’s aroused body, and the persistence of his mouth, Eve was impatient for him to possess her. For a moment she was assailed by the memory of Matthew and what he had done to her—how rough and careless his handling of her had been, with no intention of pleasing her.
A dark fear pierced her. Had Matthew mentally scarred her, left her unable to respond to a lover’s touch? Her mind rebelled and the feel of Maxim’s fingers, caressing and arousing, made her body begin to tremble with uncontrollable need. And when Maxim finally entered her his carefully withheld hunger released itself in a frenzy that demanded he possess her fully. Eve cried out, and so did he, but all around them the servants in the elegant mansion slept and the lovers were unheard.
Sated and heavy with contentment, and lost in the blissful and blessed state into which Maxim had sent her, Eve heaved a soft sigh and settled into the sheltering arms of her lover. No man, not even her husband, had ever made her feel the carnal sensations that had surged through her blood. Maxim only had to touch her and she became alive with emotions that were foreign to her. She had thought herself cold and indifferent to the urges that bedevilled other people, but in Maxim’s arms she’d discovered that she was as weak and helpless as anyone else at resisting the demands of passion.
How wonderful it was to linger in his arms, to watch the flickering candlelight wash over their naked bodies still entwined. To feel him hold her close, to rest her cheek on his chest and feel his heartbeat, to revel in the warmth of him and the smell of him. To see his eyes fill with a hungry need as he rolled her on to her back and took possession of her once more, and for a while made her forget everything else.
Any doubts she’d had, all the qualms of gnawing shame she’d imagined would torment her, were not there. More unsettling to her was the strange sense of contentment, of rightness she felt, being in Maxim’s arms, as if it was where she was meant to be. She thought how little comparison there was between what had just happened to her and the unpleasant experiences with Matthew. It was more than simply that Maxim could touch her heart while Matthew had meant almost nothing to her. The man to whom she had just given herself so spontaneously, with whom she had just shared the most intimate of experiences, had really become her lover in every sense of the word.
They lay quietly together, listening to the sound of passing horses clopping by and carriage wheels on the street outside.
‘You are very beautiful, Eve,’ Maxim murmured as he trailed his fingers over her flesh, for so she was. The soft folds of the bed sheet was like a sheath of creamy white about her, so pale it was difficult to distinguish where the fabric ended and her flesh began.
‘So are you,’ she breathed, admiring his splendid, naked body. It was powerful, lean and broad in all the right places, the gleam of his skin darkened by the generous covering of hair on his chest. ‘I don’t quite know what to say.’
‘Why should either of us say anything?’ Raising his head from the pillow, he looked down at her, smiling. Her face was soft with that look a woman achieved when she had been well loved, well satisfied. ‘You are not regretting what we have just done?’
‘Regretting? Indeed, I am not regretful. Just the opposite. You did not take advantage of me, Maxim. I was a willing partner. I have never experienced anything quite like it.’
‘What? Not even with...?’
‘No,’ she was quick to say. ‘Never with Matthew. All his passion, he saved for his lover.’
Unexpectedly, Maxim’s expression darkened. ‘Did he hurt you, Eve? Did he abuse you?’
‘No—at least, not in the physical sense.’
She turned her face towards Maxim. It was as if he had seen through the very bones of her head into the secret places of her mind. ‘He didn’t hit me or anything—but abuse doesn’t have to be physical,’ she said quietly.
She placed her finger over his lips, silencing him, knowing perfectly well that he was about to mention Matthew, the husband she did not want to think of in the same moment as the one that had given her such happiness. ‘My marriage to Matthew is in the past, and belongs there, but one good thing came out of it—Christopher.’
Maxim raised a quizzical brow, drawing his finger gently down the bare flesh of her slender neck, understanding more about what was going on in her mind than she realised. ‘And how do you feel now, Eve, now we have made love?’
‘I feel quite wonderful. I have you to thank for that. It is no lie. I confess that Matthew made me doubt myself. He always made me feel unattractive and unworthy in some way.’
‘And now?’
‘All the doubts I expected, all the qualms of shame I imagined I would feel, were not there. More unnerving to me was the strange sense of contentment, of rightness, I felt being in your arms.’
‘I am not like Matthew. I hope you found what we did neither distasteful nor undignified, that you found pleasure not pain in my arms. Making love is a time for giving and sharing, not taking.’
Weak from the turbulence of her emotions, Eve rested her head on his chest and felt his heart beating as fast as her own, which meant that he too must have been affected by what they had done. There was something different about him, something indefinably more tender and more authoritative. Confusion making her feel light-headed, she said, ‘What we just did—what does it mean?’
She sounded so defeated by the amazing passion they shared that Maxim smiled against her hair. ‘That’s very simple to answer. It means we are here because we are attracted to each other.’ He lifted his hand, grazing her flushed cheek. Gently he explained, ‘At this time it doesn’t have to mean more than that.’
Maxim’s hypnotic gaze held Eve’s as his fingertips stroked her cheek seductively, sliding along the line of her jaw to her lips. From the first moment he had taken her in his arms he had known they were a combustible combination, and what had just passed had been the most wildly erotic, satisfying sexual encounter of his life. Whatever Eve had felt had been real and uncontrived and, as he now knew, she’d been totally uninitiated. She might have been married, but it was clear that she was inexperienced. She was the product of her upbringing and her environment, for all that she had taken over the running of The Grange and was prepared to take the occasional risk. Had she never wondered about what she might really want or need?
His passion flared high, his need to possess her once more paramount, to banish all thought of her former husband from her mind, to claim her body and make her his own in every sense. For the short time left before he would have to take her home, he intended to take his time and seduce her, to make sure with his experienced hands and mouth that her climax would be as devastating as his own.
His eyes revelled in their freedom as they feasted hungrily on her naked body stretched out alongside him: her swelling, full, ripe breasts, pink-tipped and tantalising; the inward curve of her narrow waist; the seductive roundness of her hips and the long, lithe grace of her limbs.
Eve was what every man dreamed of, but before tonight he had been unprepared for this vision of incomparable beauty; of the soft, creamy, satin lustre of her skin that contrasted against the darkness of his own. He wanted to look at her, to explore every inch of her, to taste and smell and to satisfy his male curiosity in the soft curves of this woman. He wanted her more than he had wanted any other woman before, to have those inviting hips beneath him and to have those long, lithe legs wrapped around him.
With her hair spread out in shimmering waves across the pillows, he felt her tremble at the intimacy of his touch and nestle closer. Once again, they came together naturally, like two beings forged together by a common bond and, where he had intended to play out his hand with patience, his intention began to wane. He asked himself what he was prepared to offer Eve. Perhaps a few months as his mistress? A few expensive trinkets to ease his conscience when he was finished with her?
No, he sneered at himself. Just how selfish had he become? That wasn’t what he wanted. Eve deserved respect and position. She had come to mean too much to him to let her slip away. He would dearly like to make her his wife, which would have wide-ranging ramifications and would have to be considered carefully. He would provide her with the stature and wealth that marriage to him would bring. He would also be a good husband, faithful and generous, he told himself—not only with his money, but with his body too. The memory of what they had just done drifted tantalisingly through his mind. Oh, yes, he thought, he would be more than generous with his body.
‘I think you’d better take me home, don’t you?’ Eve murmured. Rolling onto her stomach and resting on her elbows, she proceeded to place tantalising little kisses on his chest. There was a hint of surprising mischief in her eyes when she looked up at him, eyes which were still drugged in the aftermath of their love-making. ‘It’s going to be difficult should my sisters ask me what the play was about—you will have to enlighten me in the carriage,’ she said, looking at him with an air of drawing him into an intimate conspiracy.
His mind made up that he was going to make this lovely creature his wife, Maxim grinned. ‘I’ll do my best.’
When Maxim had said goodnight to Eve and was returning to his home, she filled all his thoughts. Immersed for so long in his military career, he had kept his affairs with women at arm’s length. But, since leaving the army and meeting Eve, the melting of old barriers had given him back the ability to love, going beyond the boundaries that for so long had been his defence. The thought of returning to Netherthorpe without her made him feel depressed. He thought about what they had just done and how contented he had felt afterwards. When was the last time he had experienced such a sense of rightness and satisfaction with his place in the world? Never.
His love and devotion to Eve were laid wide open, so he knew what he had to do. He could not deny or hide his emotions any longer.
In her own bed later that night, Eve went over every detail of the night of blissful passion they had shared, a night that had been self-scourging, a deliberate act on her part to try and purge herself of what Matthew had done to her. Sated, and heavy with a contentment she had never believed possible, she had settled in the sheltering arms of her lover.
How wonderful it had been to linger in his arms, to watch the flickering candlelight wash over their naked bodies entwined, and feel him hold her close. How wonderful to rest her cheek on his chest and feel his heartbeat, to revel in the warmth of him, the smell of him, and to see his eyes fill with hungry need as he had rolled her on to her back and taken possession of her once more. For a while everything but him had been wiped from her mind.
The following morning, all was hustle and bustle as two of Eve’s sisters and their families prepared to leave for their respective homes. Eve had no idea when she would see them again, although she did promise she would visit them some time during the spring. Sarah was to remain in London a while longer so she could spend a few extra days with Eve.
When they had left, Eve accompanied Sarah to the Royal Exchange to do some shopping and to enjoy themselves for a couple of hours or so. When the carriage turned in to Cornhill, they were both in good spirits. They stared with excitement at the immense stone front of the façade of the Exchange, with its high arcades, columns and the clock tower reaching skyward.
Alighting from the carriage, they went through the archway where the arcade square of the Exchange opened up before them. It was filled with merchants, traders and hawkers of wares, mingling with people of all occupations, positions and gentlemen in military uniforms. It was a fashionable place to shop and was used as a rendezvous, much frequented by beaux waiting to meet a lady bent on flirtation.
‘What a wonderful place this is,’ Eve murmured, breathing in the different smells that reached her, from roasting chestnuts to hot pies and horse dung. It was a rarity for Eve to come to such a place. She was captivated by the sight, and would have stopped, but Sarah was moving through the yard. Eve hurried after her.
‘I think I would like to have a look round the little stalls in the yard first, but the shops upstairs are the best.’
And so they passed a pleasant half-hour browsing among the stalls with Sarah dipping into her silk purse for coins to buy fripperies, placing them in her basket. They mounted the staircase and strolled along the upper gallery. It was thronged with shoppers and Eve found it difficult to keep Sarah within her sights, as she kept wandering off when something of interest caught her eye.
When she disappeared inside a shop to purchase some gloves—telling Eve that she would probably be a while, as she wished to browse—Eve slipped into a shop to purchase some embroidered ribbons and lace to brighten up some of her older dresses. On leaving the shop, Eve saw Elena Devlin strolling towards her, taking a leisurely path along the gallery—the one woman Eve would like to have avoided at all cost.
Her heart began to pound and a cold finger ran down her back. It was as if some unseen presence was warning her to take care. The mere sight of this woman filled her with loathing. Their glances caught and for a moment they looked into each other’s eyes, mortal enemies. Eve felt the malevolence oozing out of Elena. She would never like this woman who had stolen her husband.
‘So, Mrs Lansbury. You are enjoying London?’
‘I was, Lady Devlin.’
Lady Devlin forced a dry smile. ‘Until you encountered me, no doubt.’
‘No doubt,’ Eve confirmed coldly. ‘Will you please move out of my way? I have nothing to say to you.’
‘No, I cannot imagine you have. You look surprisingly well. It is clear London suits you.’
‘And how would you know that?’
‘I don’t—and it does not bother me one way or the other in the slightest.’
Eve had no time for simpering, feminine compliments, insincere smiles and subtly disguised cuts. Lady Devlin’s eyes were hard and shining, ruthless as those of a cat watching its prey. Eve returned her stare, not at all disconcerted or intimidated.
‘I really do not think we have anything to say to each other, Lady Devlin, so if you will excuse me...’ She was about to move on when Lady Devlin’s next words made her pause.
‘You look decidedly smug, Mrs Lansbury—for a woman whose husband was unfaithful to her.’
Eve’s eyes widened incredulously. For a moment she was silent, then very quietly she said, ‘And you would know all about that, wouldn’t you, Lady Devlin?’
Lady Devlin leaned forward, holding her satin reticule in front of her. ‘You may think so, if you like. Matthew never stopped seeing me while he was married to you. All the times you thought he was hunting, he was with me. All the nights he wasn’t at home, he was with me—in my bed.’
Eve stared at her, a kind of repugnant horror on her face. What was this woman trying to do—bait her, prod her most sensitive emotions, humiliate her with boasting of Matthew’s infidelity? Did she wish to see her cringe?
‘Did you think I didn’t know that? What you didn’t know at the time, Lady Devlin, was that you were welcome to him. But what of your own husband? Your propensity to acquire other gentlemen to satisfy your needs and to escort you here and there does not present him in a good light, and he is a greater fool than I thought.’
She and Lady Devlin stood very close, breathing each other’s breath, staring into each other’s eyes.
‘Will you step out of my way to let me pass,’ Eve demanded coldly. ‘Nothing can possibly be gained by this.’
She glanced down into the square below and saw Edward Randall, dressed in all his vivid finery, engaged in jocular conversation with three young gentlemen. ‘I believe your present lover is looking for you. I warn you to have a care. With your husband hovering in the background, I’ll wager that nothing can come of the affair.’
She began to push past Lady Devlin, who all at once laughed, a hysterical laugh of anger and nervous repression. ‘Just listen to yourself speaking of wagers. You know nothing, do you, Mrs Lansbury, as you parade yourself on the arm of Lord Levisham.’ Her eyes narrowed maliciously. ‘You thoroughly believe yourself the equal of him, don’t you? You are of a different class and ill-equipped to deal with the society he inhabits.’
‘And you would know that, Lady Devlin.’
‘Of course.’ She moved closer, her hostile eyes never leaving Eve’s. ‘Obviously you are flattered by the attention he showers on you. You think you can keep him, don’t you? Well, when I’ve told you a few facts about your precious Maxim Randall, he will be the last man in the world you want to associate with. You really have no idea what is going on, do you?’
Eve’s eyes narrowed. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘I think all the attention he is showering on you has addled your brain. Your interaction at the theatre told everyone that you are in a relationship with him. London is abuzz with rumours. The two of you have become the subject of much speculation and comment—did you know that?’
‘I never listen to rumour, and I do not care. The rumours will soon be forgotten when some new scandal comes along to take their interest.’
‘Oh, it will—and soon, you can be sure of that. But the rumour mill has not done with you yet—far from it.’
Eve sensed Lady Devlin had something unpleasant to impart and that she wouldn’t like it one bit. ‘Kindly explain yourself.’
‘With the greatest of pleasure. Edward has long favoured living at Netherthorpe but the Dower House will do for now. Lord Levisham and Edward have made a wager that, should Lord Levisham fail to seduce you before Christmas, then Edward will move into the Dower House.’
Eve went cold. ‘A wager? I don’t understand.’
‘Of course you don’t. How could you? This is one wager Lord Levisham wants kept out of White’s betting book.’
Lady Devlin’s disclosure was like an arrow sent straight to Eve’s heart. She felt the blood drain from her face and her eyes had a haunted, almost desperate expression. ‘You’re lying,’ she said quietly, unable to believe what she was hearing.
‘Am I? I don’t think so. Edward believed his expectations would be fulfilled while you were residing at The Grange—where the seduction of the unsuspecting Mrs Lansbury would be more difficult than here in London. You have clearly developed a tendre for Lord Levisham in such a short time.’
‘That is none of your business.’
‘No, it isn’t, but I am doing you a favour in telling you this. My advice to you is to get back to Surrey post haste before the wager becomes public knowledge. In the past, Lord Levisham has flayed the reputation of more pretentiously proud females than can be recalled. You are no different from any of them.’