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Authors: Samantha Grace

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BOOK: Best of Both Rogues
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Her maid looked up from her darning when Eve entered with the two men. Her thin gray eyebrows lifted, but she didn’t make a sound. Since Helena was meeting with her solicitor, Eve had enlisted Alice to act as her chaperone this afternoon. Mama would have fulfilled the role if Eve had asked, but she hated to bother her mother when she rarely had a day when she felt well anymore.

“I’m afraid we have no music,” Eve said, “but perhaps it will be easier to learn the steps without it first.”

She moved to the center of the floor, lifted her arms into position, and took a deep breath to fortify herself for the hour ahead. Ben gestured for Jonathan to join her before selecting a spot close to the window where she couldn’t help but see him. His gaze remained locked on her, making her stomach tumble over and over.

Her chin quivered the slightest little bit, and she clamped her jaw together to hide her nerves. When Jonathan stepped in front of her and blocked her view of Ben, it required all her willpower not to peer around her betrothed to see Ben again in spite of the way he made her shaky inside.

Jonathan’s unexpected touch on her back made her gasp and jump. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“No, pardon me, sir.” She stole a quick glance at his face to determine if he was insulted by her reaction, but he simply looked back with wide-eyed expectation. Her shoulders relaxed and she felt a smile tug at the corners of her mouth. She appreciated his easygoing nature. Even now, with her former love looking on, he maintained his cheerful countenance.

“Let us begin with the box step.” Eve slowly went through the simple steps until Jonathan seemed to grow comfortable. “Splendid. You are performing superbly.”

Ben was leaning with one hip against the wall and his thumb hooked in his trouser pocket. His oh-so-handsome face was devoid of expression, but his gaze burned into her.

“Step left, together. Side, together. Now right.”

As Jonathan studied his feet and repeated the steps aloud, Eve’s attention gravitated toward Ben. His blue eyes darkened when she held his gaze longer than proper. The corners of his mouth curved with a knowing smile. She glanced away quickly.

“Excellent. You are doing marvelously.” Her voice came out high-pitched, and her praise was too lavish for Jonathan’s performance. “Let’s increase the tempo. I think you are ready.”

His brows lowered dubiously over his serious eyes.

“Like this.” She halted their dancing to clap out the rhythm. “Just move your feet in time with the tempo.”

She stole a peek at Ben, who hadn’t taken his eyes off her. A flash of heat swept through her as Jonathan took her hand to try the dance once again.

“On three we will move left. One, two, three.” She bungled her own instructions, moved in the wrong direction, and came down awkwardly, rolling her ankle. A stabbing pain shot up her leg, and she cried out.

“Eve!” Ben pushed away from the wall.

“No,” she blurted before he touched her. “I-I am all right.” She lied. Her ankle throbbed with each beat of her heart, and she bit down on her lip to keep from whimpering.

Jonathan supported her as she balanced on one leg. He grimaced as if he too were in pain. “Miss Thorne, I am sorry. I should have paid better attention. Can you walk on it?”

It wasn’t Jonathan’s fault, but he was gallant to take responsibility. “I think so.” Gingerly she touched her toes to the floor, but the slight pressure made her hiss.

“No, you can’t.” Ben lifted her in his arms, cradling her against his chest. She held herself stiff and fought the urge to melt against him as he carried her to the settee. The faint tones of his cologne teased her nose. She inhaled, savoring his scent: an exotic woodsy aroma with a hint of lemon.

“Oh dear,” her maid said. Alice’s mending had been abandoned on the floor, and she shifted her weight from foot to foot. “Oh dear. What should I do, miss?”

“Find a pillow, then send for the doctor.” Ben’s orders were spoken calmly, but it was clear he expected Eve’s servant to comply.

Alice bustled over to the Chippendale chairs that had been shoved against the fireplace and retrieved two pillows. With great care, Ben placed Eve on the settee then crouched beside her. He took the pillows from Alice and arranged them under Eve’s ankle as the maid left to carry out his instructions.

“Rest. The doctor will come soon.” His voice was soothing and distracted her from the pain. “May I examine your ankle?”

He reached for her skirts, but she planted her hand against his chest. “No! And I don’t need a doctor.”

He covered her hand with his. Goose bumps rose along her arm. His heartbeat was strong and rapid, betraying his calm facade. “Evie,” he murmured.

Jonathan cleared his throat, and they jerked apart. A furious heat seared her cheeks and she dropped her gaze to her lap. “Miss Thorne, please allow Mr. Hillary to check your injury. He only wishes to help.”

When she glanced at Jonathan standing at the end of the settee, his long face and stooped shoulders stabbed at her heart. He appeared so defeated. She couldn’t stomach the thought of hurting him.

“I will wait for the doctor.” Her voice was firm, and Ben held his hands up in surrender. “Forgive me, Sir Jonathan,” she said. “I only wanted a partner to waltz with me, and instead I’ve ruined our day with my clumsiness.” And not just with her misstep on the dance floor. Her misstep with Ben was unforgivable.

Ben rocked back on his heels and sighed. He swung his head toward Jonathan. “We can’t very well allow the entire day to be spoiled, can we? You brought me here for a reason, and I hate to see the lady disappointed.”

A smile inched across Jonathan’s face. “As do I. What do you propose?”

Ben rose and with a grimness befitting a condemned man, he held his hand out to Jonathan. “May I have this dance?”

“Ben,” Eve blurted and laughed.

He winked at her, his eyes teasing. “Now, don’t be jealous, Miss Thorne. I only mean to borrow your betrothed. You may have him back as soon as he has mastered the waltz.”

Jonathan’s good humor returned as well. “In other words, she may never see me again.”

“Exactly.”

Eve’s heart lifted as the men took position in the center of the room.

“Am I the gentleman or lady?” Jonathan asked.

“I believe that is obvious, Hackberry. But for the sake of learning, you may assume the role of gentleman.”

Their banter continued as Ben led Jonathan through the steps.

“You are squeezing my hand,” Ben complained. “If I were a lady, you would crack the bones.”

“If you were a
lady
, I wouldn’t mind you holding me so close,” Jonathan shot back. “Give me a bit of breathing room.”

Eve chuckled as Ben purposefully tried to stomp his partner’s toes, and Jonathan danced and hopped to avoid Ben’s boots.

“That’s better, more lively,” Ben quipped. “Now apply it to the waltz.”

Given the chance to observe, Eve relaxed against the cushion and rested her head along the back of the settee. It was nice to see the men getting along, although she didn’t know what it meant. They seemed the most unlikely of friends. Her eyes narrowed on Jonathan’s lovely green waistcoat as Ben wrangled him on the dance floor when Jonathan made a misstep.

Oh, for pity’s sake
. The man couldn’t even button his waistcoat correctly. She suppressed a sigh. Poor Jonathan needed a keeper, and she feared he would be lost without her.

The sight of two handsome men prancing around her brother’s drawing room made her smile. They were both amiable gents, and she enjoyed their teasing with one another. After a quarter hour passed, she had to admit Ben was the superior instructor. Jonathan was already learning to travel and perform the promenade.

She applauded when Jonathan spun Ben under his arm. “Bravo!”

Milo walked in as they repeated the spin. His jaw dropped, and Eve giggled. Ben and Jonathan released each other and quickly moved to opposite sides of the drawing room. The staunch butler schooled his features, then announced the doctor had arrived.

Eleven

Eve’s ankle injury proved to be nothing more than a sprain, and six days later, she was well enough to resume her usual activities outside of the home. Only the occasional twinge reminded her to slow down and not overtax herself, but she was certainly well enough to attend one of Jonathan’s lectures at the museum.

“Shall we?” Jonathan held out his arm to escort her to the door of Thorne Place.

When her maid donned a bonnet and nodded to Eve to signal she was ready, Eve linked arms with her betrothed.

Jonathan’s eyes twinkled. “Did I ever mention the frame drum also could be traced to Greece and the goddess Athena?”

“Yes, I believe you have mentioned it a time or two.”
Or
fifty
. She squeezed his arm affectionately. His childlike enthusiasm made her smile, even if she was growing a bit tired of hearing the same information.

“I find it fascinating how diverse the ancient civilizations were, and yet universally they incorporated drums into their worship of their gods.” He spoke in a rush of words. “Drums were used in war too, but most Continental empires only employ drums on the battlefield. There seems to be something terribly wrong with this practice.”

“I never really thought about it, but I suppose that is true.” Eve wrinkled her brow when they walked outside and there wasn’t a hack waiting for them in the street. She tossed a look over her shoulder at Alice, who seemed just as puzzled. Jonathan whisked Eve along the walkway without explanation. She scanned the street for a carriage, but Jonathan kept moving when they reached the cross street. Her maid was lagging behind since she wasn’t accustomed to a quick pace, nor was she a young woman any longer.

Eve politely cleared her throat to gain his attention. “Pardon me, sir, but where are we headed?”

He swung his head toward her as if startled. “Why, to the museum. Did you forget about my lecture today?”

“Of course I didn’t, but it is across town. Surely you are not suggesting we go by foot.”

He stopped short on the walkway, abruptly jerking her back. “Sorry,” he mumbled. He rubbed his fingers over the deep creases between his eyebrows as he regarded her. “You enjoy walking and it is a pleasant day. I thought you would be pleased.”

Her lips parted, but no sound came out. Was he truly oblivious to Alice’s crimson face and the noisy huffing from trying to keep up? His preoccupation had seemed humorous and quirky before today; now it made her slightly queasy. She glanced at Alice, and his bewildered gaze slowly traveled toward her maid too.

“Ah,” he uttered. “It is a bit far, I think.” A deep blush flooded his face and her faith in him began to be restored. Perhaps he needed a nudge when it came to thinking of others, but he was not heartless. “We may need to walk a little farther to find a hack. Is that acceptable?”

She smiled, finding his compromise adequate. “Perhaps we could walk at a more leisurely pace as well.”

“Agreed.” Jonathan mirrored her smile then launched into happy chatter again. As they neared Piccadilly, they encountered more people out and about. “We should be able to locate a hack to hire ahead,” he said. “Keep a lookout.”

Eve checked on Alice and caught sight of a man several yards behind her maid. He stopped to pull his watch fob from his pocket as if checking the time, but she noticed his gaze straying toward them. He snapped his watch closed and turned around to walk in the opposite direction.

Unease trickled through her, but she tried to shake off the feeling. Her brother had always accused her of having an overactive imagination, and she knew it was true. Since she was a little girl, she had made up stories about gypsies, pirates, or enchanted forests where fairies lived among the ferns. In her imagination, everything was perfect: fathers didn’t have fits of anger, throw valuable vases against walls, or barricade themselves in their chambers for days on end.

As the walkway became more crowded, Jonathan drew her to his side. They maneuvered around gentlemen, merchants, members of the servant class, and the occasional lady with her escort. Eve turned to motion Alice closer and caught another glimpse of the man with the watch. He met her eyes, then veered toward a vendor’s cart, turning his back as he inspected the goods. There was nothing remarkable in his appearance, nothing familiar about him.

Jonathan urged her along. “I’ve spotted a hack at the next intersection.”

Eve saw it too and hurried her step to keep up with him, but Alice fell behind again. “Sir Jonathan.” She released his arm, intending to go back for her maid, and discovered the same man only several feet away. Was he following them? “Sir Jonathan, do you know that man? I think he is following us.”

“Where?” Jonathan was searching straight ahead.

“Right there!”

The man grimaced when she pointed at him, then dashed into the street, darting between a carriage and wheeled cart crawling along the congested street.

“He
is
following us.”

“Where is he?” Jonathan spun around, his shoulder knocking her bonnet askew.

“In the street. Dressed in gray.” She reached to adjust the brim so she could see which way he went.

“I don’t see him.” Jonathan whirled again and sent her sprawling into Alice’s arms. She and her maid hugged each other to keep from falling, and Eve’s bonnet brim slipped lower over her eyes.

“Miss Thorne.” Alice’s voice trembled. “What is happening?”

“I don’t know.” Eve managed to right herself and adjust her bonnet in time to see Jonathan spin again and nearly trip a soldier with his cane. The stout man stumbled forward and bumped into his fellow soldier. They hurled curses at Jonathan, clearly unhappy with him and his cane.

The larger soldier marched toward him, red-faced and almost foaming from the mouth. “Watch where you be swinging that blasted walking stick before I stick it up yer—”

“Oh dear!” Eve rushed forward to insert herself between the men, but in a flash, Jonathan had her behind him.

“A lady is present,” Jonathan said with a snarl. “Stand down, mangold.”

The note of danger in his tone made her shiver, even as his insult made her want to laugh. Wasn’t a mangold a type of beet? She peeked around Jonathan to see the soldier’s face did in fact border on purple like a beet, but the color was quickly draining from his cheeks.

“Yes, sir.” Both men backed away, their postures submissive. They reminded her of hounds tucking tail.

“Apologize to the lady.”

“Sorry, miss,” the men mumbled before bolting away.

Jonathan turned to face her. “Are you all right? Did they frighten you?”

She blinked up at him, confused by the paradox he presented. Sweet bumbling man by day. Dangerous adversary by…well, also by day. “I was not frightened.”

He blew out a breath. “Well, that makes one of us. I am still shaking. See?” He held out a trembling hand, then made a fist and pressed it against his thigh. “Please don’t place yourself in danger again, Miss Thorne. It requires me to be brave, and I am not certain my nerves can handle it.”

She bit down on her lip rather than blurt out she wouldn’t have been in any danger if he were more careful with his cane. The poor man was shaken enough by the encounter. “I am sorry, but I wasn’t thinking. I won’t do it again.” Although she didn’t know how she would keep her promise if he continued to land them in situations not of her doing.

“Splendid.” He sported a crooked grin. “Now, allow me to hail a hack.” He stepped toward the street as a weathered carriage bumped along the rutted thoroughfare and waved his hand in the air to gain the driver’s attention. After securing a ride and handing Eve and her maid into the carriage, he claimed the opposite seat.

Now that they were safely on their way, it was hard to believe they had been in danger moments earlier. Jonathan could have gotten himself severely injured or killed. She raised her eyebrows in his direction. “A beet, sir?”

“A
Beta
vulgaris
, if we wish to employ the proper name.” He chuckled and lifted his shoulders in a sheepish shrug. “I couldn’t think of anything more fitting. I am not as quick-witted as some, I’m afraid.”

No, she supposed he wasn’t, but it was a rather disappointing discovery. He was intelligent and well-read. Usually witty went hand in hand with those characteristics. She sank against the seat back, her smile fading.

Three weeks earlier, she thought she knew everything she needed to know about Jonathan, but recently she felt as if she didn’t know him at all. He had become even more absorbed in his work, less thoughtful, and now she was discovering he wasn’t even as clever as she had assumed. It might seem like a petty thing to some, but she had always appreciated a man with superior wit. What if there were other things she hadn’t learned about her betrothed? Perhaps more troubling habits or traits he kept hidden?

She tilted her head slightly to study him. He caught her eye and grinned, but there was something different about his smile. She couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was, but he truly lit up again as soon as the hack rolled to a stop in front of the museum. As they strolled arm in arm past the fountains en route to the north entrance, he resumed his chattiness.

Alice gasped softly when they reached a nude statue.

“It is something to see, is it not?” Jonathan asked her maid.

“Aye, sir.” A furious blush consumed Alice’s face. “Never seen anything like it.”

When they reached the foot of the stairs leading into the majestic Montagu House, Jonathan linked arms with Alice, too, and helped her navigate the steps. Eve warmed in response to his thoughtful gesture. Perhaps earlier she had just experienced a case of nerves. Their wedding was only a week and a half away. Surely it was common for some brides to have doubts.

Just inside the museum doors, Alice released a delighted cry as her head dropped back to view the ceiling, which had been painted like a blue sky. “I’ve never seen anything as grand. Where did they find a long enough paintbrush, do you suppose?”

As Jonathan gave his name to the porter, Eve tried to explain the process for creating murals on ceilings, citing what she knew about Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel. Eve hadn’t seen the actual ceiling in Rome, but Sebastian had, and she’d read about how the masterpiece had been created.

A moment later, an under-librarian came down the stairwell to greet them. “Sir Jonathan, what an honor to have you and your guests with us today. Mr. Hillary has already arrived. Please, come this way.”

Eve snapped her head toward Jonathan, her heart floundering. “Mr. Hillary is here?”

He took her hand to thread it through the crook of his elbow. “I mentioned the lecture when we left Thorne Place the other day. He expressed interest, so I thought it would be rude to exclude him.” As they neared a small doorway, Jonathan said, “I find I like Mr. Hillary. Perhaps you should give him another chance.”

Eve stopped in the corridor and frowned at him. “I do not understand you, sir.”

He patted her hand. “I find that is most often the case with everyone. Do not let it trouble you.” Without allowing her another word, he dropped her hand and entered the room ahead of her.

She exchanged a perplexed glance with Alice, then followed. Jonathan had already located Ben sitting in the back row and was whispering with him.

“I would be honored,” Ben replied. Her insides quivered when he stood and graced her with a smile.

“Excellent.” Jonathan slapped him on the back. “Miss Thorne, I have asked Mr. Hillary to provide you company while I prepare for my lecture. Come, there is room enough for you and your maid.”

Ben’s jaw hardened as his eyes narrowed at Jonathan. Her heart sank. Didn’t Ben want to keep her company? Not that she wanted
his
companionship either. At least, not a great deal. “Hackberry, you forgot to ask Miss Thorne if she wishes to spend the afternoon in my company. Perhaps she would rather—”

“I don’t mind.”

The hint of a dimple appeared in Ben’s right cheek. “That is a relief, Miss Thorne.” He came forward to offer his arm. She hesitated, not certain touching him would be wise. After their brief contact when she twisted her ankle, she had been preoccupied with thoughts of him for days. It was unseemly for a betrothed young woman to ponder what it would be like to kiss her former love.

Would his lips be as soft as they once were?

Would he cradle her head with his strong yet gentle hands?

Would he angle her mouth just right, his kiss tasting slightly of mint?

“Miss Thorne?” Ben’s voice jarred her from her memories. “Would you like to find a seat? The lecture will begin soon.”

Jonathan’s back was to them, and he was halfway to the lectern already.

Heat swept over her. “Please,” she murmured and reached to touch Ben’s arm, knowing every time she gave in to temptation, it would be that much harder to banish him from her dreams.

BOOK: Best of Both Rogues
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