Part 25 (1/2)
”Inconclusive,” Evangeline said weakly. ”Please tell me the horrific set-down you received from Francine Rutherford was in the past, not the future.”
”Was it at an opera house? Then, yes.” Susan turned and started across the gra.s.s. ”That would be the start of the little gossip scandal I mentioned. I'd glimpsed her cavorting with someone other than her better half. And then I told people who it was.”
Evangeline ran to catch up. ”Angels above, Susan. It looked like you ruined lives.”
”I know. I even managed to ruin my own.” She walked faster. ”I don't really wish to discuss the bad behavior in my past. I'm not like that any more. Shall we fly kites now?”
After a moment, Evangeline nodded and followed Susan to a patch of gra.s.s where a few kites remained unclaimed.
”You know,” Evangeline said as Susan picked a yellow one from the pile. ”I imagine Mr. Lioncroft doesn't enjoy the constant reminders of the bad behavior in his past, either.”
Susan whirled to face her. ”I said I know know. And you know what else I I don't enjoy? The constant reminders of how much better you think you are than everybody else, and how you always think you have the right answer and forever know to do the right thing. If you think you'd be the perfect wife for Lion don't enjoy? The constant reminders of how much better you think you are than everybody else, and how you always think you have the right answer and forever know to do the right thing. If you think you'd be the perfect wife for Lionkiller, you can have him. He's heading right for us, anyway. And I'm b.l.o.o.d.y sure he's not hunting you can have him. He's heading right for us, anyway. And I'm b.l.o.o.d.y sure he's not hunting me me.”
”He doesn't see me, me,” Evangeline said, palms outstretched. ”He just sees my Gift. Everybody does. As soon as they learn the truth, I cease being Evangeline and start being The Girl With The Visions. I will never get to be a normal person. You had it all, and you just-”
But Susan had already stalked off, kite in hand, without another word.
Chapter Eighteen.
”Why didn't you sit with me?”
d.a.m.n. That wasn't what he'd meant to say.
Miss Pemberton turned, slowly, slowly, until at last she stared up at him from under those dark curling lashes. It was all Gavin could do not to shake her, kiss her, then toss her over his shoulder, and escape into his house.
”That is,” he began, then stopped. There was really no way to unsay what he'd just said, so what use was artifice? ”I saved the spot for you,” he admitted. ”I had hoped for your company.”
A strange look flitted across her face. ”Didn't you enjoy Susan's?”
”What is is it, today?” Gavin demanded. ”You ask about her, she asks about you-” it, today?” Gavin demanded. ”You ask about her, she asks about you-”
”Susan asked about me?”
The question was innocent enough, but something in Miss Pemberton's expression was off.
”When I said I wouldn't-oh, never mind.” Gavin knelt before the few remaining kites. ”It's not important.”
She knelt beside him. ”About the portraiture, you mean?”
His jaw clenched. ”Why did you ask me, if you already knew?”
”Why did you say painting was unimportant?” She slanted him a sideways look. ”If you filled an entire mansion with canvases of your own creation, it's clearly important.”
”Fine. I like landscapes. Pick up a kite.” Gavin rose to his feet.
”What?” She tilted her head toward him, still kneeling, her upturned face even with the b.u.t.tons of his fall.
”Choose a kite, Miss Pemberton.” He swallowed. If she leaned forward any closer, her lips would graze his suddenly uncomfortable breeches. ”Please.”
”Why?”
Devil take it. He could swear he felt the heat of her breath through the layer of cloth. ”So we look like we're kite-flying, not...arguing. For G.o.d's sake, woman, are you always this difficult?”
An impish smile curved across her face. ”I think so, yes.”
”b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l.” Gavin forced himself to back up so that his c.o.c.k was at least a few inches from Miss Pemberton's face. She leaned closer.
”I thought you'd want to sit with Susan.”
Gavin bent down, s.n.a.t.c.hed up a kite, and stalked several feet from the pile. ”Why the h.e.l.l would I want that?”
Miss Pemberton sifted haphazardly through the remaining kites. ”She's rich, she's beautiful, she's Quality, she's-”
”She's not like you.”
Her shoulders slumped. ”No. She's nothing like me.”
Gavin dropped his kite. He stalked back over to Miss Pemberton, hauled her to her feet, and grabbed her by the shoulders. ”No. I mean, she's not like you she's not like you.” He dropped his voice and leaned into her, until he was sure she knew exactly what he meant. ”If we were alone, I'd show you precisely how you affect me, in ways the Stanton chit never could.”
She blushed, leapt away from him, busied herself with the kites. ”We can't be alone.”
He laughed. ”Put down that kite and I'll take you somewhere very alone.”
”Stop making me think about...that.”
”Mmm. I'm thrilled to know I make you think about 'that.' Care to define 'that' for me? Perhaps we can act it out.”
She tossed him what was no doubt supposed to be a glare, but the pa.s.sion darkening her eyes told a different story. ”I will never confess aloud the sort of thoughts you put in my head.” Her gaze dimmed. ”What would be the point? I'll be leaving soon, anyway.”
”All the more reason,” he said, infusing his voice with as much husky rakishness as he could muster.
She shook her head, unmoved by his best attempt at charm. A terrible seriousness replaced her earlier teasing look. ”I'd like to leave today.”
”Today?” he choked, then cleared his throat. If she'd rather talk leaving than loving, fine. He could accommodate her either way. He gestured toward the fas.h.i.+onable coats and pelisses dotting the wide expanse of his front lawn. ”Did you figure out which one of these ingrates wishes me to hang in their stead?”
”It could be anyone.” She stepped in front of him, presenting him with her back. ”Except us.”
”Except us,” Gavin agreed softly. She was so close...It would be nothing to reach out, wrap his arms around her, tuck her body against his. Nothing but scandal. He stepped aside. ”And the children. And Rose.”
She turned, handed him a bright orange kite, frowned. ”I'm not entirely sure.”
”I told you-I can't picture my sister murdering her own husband.” Gavin began to unwind a few feet of twine.
”Plenty of women would kill to escape their husbands. You cannot discount it.” Miss Pemberton squinted at him. ”But that wasn't who I meant.”
He stopped unraveling twine. ”Not one of my nieces nieces. They're innocents!”