Eva swallowed hard as she marched beside him, trying to keep pace. Lord Benham had behaved as expected—like the vile hypocrite of old.
“Slow down. These slippers will be threadbare when we reach our destination.” She shivered against the chilly night air. “What about my cloak?”
“You don’t need it,” he said, keeping his hand at her elbow. “I shall have my maid collect it tomorrow.”
“I am capable of walking without assistance.” And yet she rather liked the protective way he held her arm. “Where are you taking me?”
“To Wigmore Street.”
“Wigmore Street?” His home! “Is that wise?”
“We need privacy, Miss Dunn. And I intend to make damn sure we get it.”
Chapter 10
Noah couldn’t focus. His mind was a muddled mess. Anger had woken from its slumber, disturbed by Miss Dunn’s desire to place herself in precarious situations.
It began the moment she sought to avoid him, when she fled Newberry’s ballroom as if her gown were ablaze. Then Cole told him of her confession. Spoke of Benham’s desire to bed the woman. But that’s not what fed the beast’s fury. No. The fact Miss Dunn neglected to mention a crucial piece of information had him hopping on hot coals.
“Sir, you’re walking too quickly.” The lady—this mystical temptress who had possessed his mind and body—stopped and gasped a breath. “Just give me a moment.”
“Madam, you may catch your breath once we’re safely inside.” Indeed, they were but twelve feet from his front door.
“I’m not sure I should come inside.” A slight frisson of fear darkened her tone. “Not when you’re in the devil’s mood.”
Frightening her was not part of his plan.
“Eva, I want to talk to you.” He faced her and softened his tone. He needed a drink, needed her to soothe the devil back to bed. “Trust me. I shall behave in the way you’ve grown accustomed, not like the reckless rogue you saw tonight.”
“I found the reckless rogue rather charming.” She gave a coy shrug that drew his gaze to the delightful swell of her breasts. “You defended your mother’s memory. That was the reason for your violent outburst.”
“One reason,” he said, capturing her elbow again. “Come, you’re cold. Let’s continue this conversation inside. A large glass of brandy awaits.”
“Are you trying to tempt me with liquor, Mr Ashwood?”
“Come because you want to, not because I offer an inducement or force your hand.” It occurred to him that, after her recent experiences, she would seek to avoid being alone with unbalanced men. “Your virtue is safe with me. I seek your company, nothing more. But I can have McGuffey take you home if you prefer.”
She studied him for a moment. “Lord Benham gave me a fright. A glass of brandy and an hour of interesting conversation would be most welcome.”
The mere mention of Benham had his inner devil leaping up, ready to bring eternal damnation down on anyone who hurt her. To calm his temper, he did not speak again until they were ensconced in his drawing room.
“You should have told me what happened at Briden Castle,” he said, prodding the fire with a poker while she poured two glasses of brandy. She should have told him because he felt a duty to protect her that went beyond all reason. “It is important to the case.”
“I tried.” She crossed the candlelit room and offered him the crystal goblet half full of amber nectar. “I mentioned it before we entered Mr Hemming’s office if you remember.”
“Of course I remember.” He had an exceptional memory. And yet he struggled to focus on anything other than the kiss that left him famished, ravenous, hungry for more.
“But you’re right. Lord Benham hopes Howard is dead. It all started with the bet at Briden.” Sadness swam in her eyes. “I should have told you about that when we spoke about Clara.”
Her obvious regret soothed the beast inside.
Noah gestured to the sofa. “Please, sit.”
He watched her smooth her silk skirts and settle into the seat. She looked breathtaking in red. Exquisite. Indeed, it wasn’t just anger flowing through the beast’s veins. Lust—and something infinitely more alarming—flared whenever he was in her company.
“Ask me anything about Lord Benham,” she said, cradling the brandy glass between her palms, “and I shall speak honestly.”
Noah dropped into the seat opposite. “For a woman who believes her character is wholly unattractive, there are at least two men eager to gain entrance to your bedchamber.”
Three if he counted himself.
A flush crept across her cheeks. “Mr Hemming speaks of marriage because he wants to take control of my work. Lord Benham wants me for a mistress, not a wife. Winning the bet is his only motivation.”
Noah didn’t want to control her, nor did he want her for his mistress. So what the hell did he want?
“You ran away from me tonight. You seemed pleased to see me but then fled from the ballroom without so much as a greeting. Why?”
The lady sipped her brandy, gasping as the fiery spirit burned her throat. It was a ploy to distract him while she gathered her wits. Was she keeping another secret? If so, he would walk away, never look back.
“After the debacle with Lord Benham, have we not established that honesty is the only way forward, Miss Dunn?”
“Miss Dunn?” she teased. “I like it when you call me Eva.”
That had been a slip of the tongue, a moment of weakness. “You’re stalling.”
“Am I?”
“What is it you’re not telling me?”
Her light laugh was forced. “I had to use the retiring room.”
“If that’s the truth, why can you not look me in the eye? Why do you squirm in your seat? And your ears are as red as your gown.”
“Must you examine every nuance?” she countered, gazing at the amber liquid sloshing about in the glass. “Why does your need to study mannerisms border on obsessive?”
“Because I was once duped into believing a lie.” The words tumbled carelessly from his
