Enticing Eve: Scandalous Secrets, Book 2 (2 page)

As for the matter of impropriety, the Dowager Viscountess was never one to stand on formalities. It mattered not if society’s edict was that young ladies be chaperoned at all times. When Eve asked for time to herself, the Viscountess invariably granted her request.

Her faith in me is misplaced,
Eve’s conscience chastised.
 

Just as predicted, her grandmother showed no sign of surprise at Eve’s entreaty. “Of course you may take the carriage, darling, however, you must return by three as we have been invited to the duke’s estate to dine with his brother-in-law, and we mustn’t be late.”

Eve nodded in acknowledgment before striding out of the salon and into the main hall. The frantic rhythm of her heels tapping against the ivory marble remained in step with her rising pulse, now battering her veins like a rushing river current in anticipation of her impending confrontation.

Having often contemplated Colin’s return, Eve assumed that she would be flooded with relief to learn that he was safe. For years she would have been.

Not now.

Not any longer.
 

With each step, anger and resentment replaced whatever relief she once would have felt. Racing up the plush burgundy-carpeted staircase, Eve entered her suite and tugged with force at the pull for her maid.

So much had changed since Colin’s disappearance, Eve considered, as she paced the length of her bedchamber. Though she was once considered amongst the top tiers of polite society, Eve now faced her reflection in the mirror, noting her faded gown and frayed sleeves. As had become her daily ritual, Eve wore her shabbiest gowns before calls were expected because she needed to save her best gowns for public display. Though she may be disgraced, she refused to let the
ton
see just how low she had sunk.
 

Nor would Eve allow Colin MacAlistair to witness her shabby state of ensemble.

Crossing the room, she flung her wardrobe doors open, scanning the array of colorful fabrics hanging before her. Each design was unique, reminding Eve just how strong the woman who created them was.

“You are no longer that needy girl Colin deserted,” she declared aloud. “You are independent.”

A grin tugged at the corner of her lips. Only a handful of family and close friends knew that Eve designed and sewed all of her own garments. Yes, she possessed a talent that very few were aware of though many members of the
ton
had unwittingly worn her creations at one function or another without ever being aware of it.
 

Such was Eve’s business, made successful with assistance from the Duchess of Davenport, Gwendolyn Montgomery, and her sister-in-law Lady Victoria. Victoria was especially skilled at selling Eve’s designs, having turned the elaborate ruse into a game – one that she played to perfection.
 

It never ceased to amaze Eve what falsehoods the
ton
would accept simply because a noble with wealth and a title told them it was so. Nor did it surprise her how much they would pay for what they were led to believe to be fashionable by other nobles.

The scheme never should have been successful but it was, and by retaining her anonymity, Eve protected her pride.

She would do the same with Colin – protect her dignity at all costs.

By the time Eve’s maid, Eloise, entered the room, her mistress had decided upon a dusky-pink satin concoction accentuated with embroidered roses in a darker pink in addition to leaves and vines in an emerald-colored thread. A ruched front panel the same shade as the leaves accentuated Eve’s green eyes – a detail that inspired her to choose this particular design.
 

Possessing very few pieces of jewelry and accessories, Eve instructed Eloise to pin the sides of her wavy blonde hair and compensate for the lack of a suitable hair clip by accentuating her hair with a pale pink rosebud that sat in a vase atop her dressing table. Eloise was quick to follow her mistress’s instructions as Eve toyed with one of the modest pearl earrings at her earlobe. The memory of how
 
much she
 
sacrificed
 
as
 
payment
 
to
 
that damned
 
investigator gnawed at her, adding a
 
pink tinge to Eve’s once pale cheeks.

How dare Colin return now!
 

Eve’s life proceeded through a thick fog for far too long, but the haze lifted at long last, freeing her from the past. For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, Eve’s life was more than the vast emptiness that had encompassed her.

Damn the man for returning now.

Rising to her feet, Eve grabbed a pink reticule studded with several faux pearls then thanked Eloise as she retrieved her gloves from the young woman. It wasn’t until she reached the foyer that Eve realized her hands were shaking. Allowing herself one brief moment to compose herself, she leaned against the cool wall for support.

Why had Colin reappeared now, when her mind had finally ceased demanding answers to the questions that plagued her? Why did he leave? Where did he go? Did Colin ever regret forsaking her? Had he lied when he promised to return? Were his declarations of love also false? On and on, like specters in a dark abyss, the litany of never-ending questions had taunted her.

Dear God, why did he return now, when her future lay before her with someone else, someone who is the antithesis of Colin? Kind, honorable, and steadfast—

Eve’s heart skipped a beat at the thought of that very man. Oh, dear God, why didn’t she tell him about her relationship with Colin?
 

It was a rhetorical question for she knew the answer all too well—
 

Eve was ashamed of her gullibility. Add to that her certainty that Colin would never return and she remained resolute that her logic outweighed any other possibilities.
 

So much for your intuition …

“Enough of this!” Eve commanded as she shoved herself away from the wall before proceeding down the hallway. She couldn’t second-guess herself now nor could she consider both men at present. First she must confront Colin. Then she would speak with her betrothed when he returned from his business in London.
 

After acknowledging her butler with a nod, Eve watched as her grandmother’s sleek black carriage with their family’s crest pulled to a stop in front of their estate. By the time she ascended the steps and settled against the comfortable velvet, Eve’s pulse had slowed to its normal rhythm, and she was able to plot her upcoming confrontation.
 

“Anger will not do,” she recited as the carriage lurched forward. “Don’t be emotional. Tell him you are over him and move on.”

Yes, that sounded quite reasonable. Was it enough though? Colin wounded her. More specifically, he’d executed the one feat that he knew would inflict the most damage upon her and had splintered Eve’s heart into a million sharp shards, ensuring she would doubt every word he’d ever spoken to her.
 

God forgive her. She wanted to ensure Colin MacAlistair knew what he discarded and that he spend every day of his life regretting it.
 

Staring out the carriage window, tall oaks passed in a blur failing to command Eve’s attention. Instead, she caught sight of her ethereal reflection in the glass, guilt weighing heavily on her chest.
 

“God forgive me for seeking vengeance,” Eve whispered with a jagged sigh as she rested her forehead against the sun-kissed pane of glass.

The bright day outside her window was in stark contrast to that other Thursday. How many Thursdays had passed since that terrible day? How had the days evolved? In the same manner that she evolved, Eve supposed.

Upon further consideration, her desperate thirst wasn’t for revenge. No, Eve had entered the realm of self-preservation. By forcing Colin to consider the woman he discarded and by inflicting even a modicum of the damage that he’d done to her, Eve was ensuring that she would survive his return.
 

“He will suffer.” It was her solemn vow – three whispered words soaring through the swaying carriage. With them, her plan for revenge took flight.
 

Could it truly be that simple?
 

Leaning back against the worn velvet squabs of her family’s carriage, Eve traced the round gemstone of her betrothal ring with her forefinger. She was betrothed, yes, but that information wasn’t the most significant. Sure as the deafening rumble of thunder that rolls during a violent summer storm, Eve knew what would inflict the most pain upon Colin…

Using the man to whom she was betrothed against him.
 

The fact that Colin would see it as the ultimate betrayal made hers a brilliant plan, but it was also vengeful, almost too much so.
 

Could she really be so heartless? It wasn’t as if Eve became betrothed to this particular man in a deliberate attempt to hurt Colin, yet his identity would injure Colin like nothing else.
   

Eve studied her honey-colored topaz ring. She never received such a token from Colin; however, she still remembered his promise:

I will purchase a flawless emerald for you, one as magnificent as your eyes – those same beautiful eyes in whose depths I will forever be lost.
 

At the time, they were the most romantic words she had ever heard. Eve had since learned her lesson, had she not?

Reaching into her reticule, Eve removed a small silver-plated mirror before flipping it open and staring at her reflection or, rather, what little of her reflection she could discern for the finish had worn off in the upper right-hand corner. After tucking a stray blonde tendril behind her ear, she snapped the mirror closed and held it in her gloved hand.
 

The tarnished mirror represented what a fool she had been for Colin, selling her antique pearl encrusted compact to help pay the detective to find him. Just when Eve thought she’d reached the safety of shore, another wave of recollections rose to the surface reminding her how many items she had forfeited in the hopes of locating Colin. Reminding her of how lost she had been. Reminding her of the grief this man caused her. Making Eve feel as adrift as she did when she first realized that Colin didn’t wish to be found.

Did Colin care? If his return was any indication, he cared not. After all, he returned to England without facing her.
 

Just like his exit – a pattern Eve refused to ignore.

An exasperated sigh escaped her lips as she shoved the mirror into her reticule then slumped against the cushions. Yes, Eve had learned her lesson. It was past time for Colin to learn his.

Eve remained steadfast in her plan. She would make certain that Colin recognized what he had lost and would regret it until his dying day.

* * *

Colin sat behind an oversized mahogany desk in the library, signing his final page of correspondence when a knock at the door stirred him.

“Enter,” he commanded, tossing his quill onto the blotter.
 

“You have a visitor, sir,” Norris, his gray-haired butler, announced. The gaunt man crossed the room, offering Colin a card resting upon a small silver tray before adding, “The young woman is in the drawing room.”

Glancing at the ivory clock beside him, Colin tapped his fingers against his desk. Visiting hours had just begun for heaven’s sake. With one final tap against the polished wood, Colin was reminded precisely how much he detested this particular custom.
 

With no intention of hiding his mounting frustration, he grabbed the calling card. The name engraved in gold script stole his very breath –
 

Miss Eve Weston.

She had come to him! The knowledge caused Colin to stand upright with such force that his chair hit the wall behind him with a loud
thud
. Striding from his office posthaste, he raced down the carpeted corridor before allowing himself one brief moment to glance at his reflection in a gilded mirror resting on the wall.

Colin had gone to great lengths to assimilate upon his return home. First, he purchased the finest garments money could buy. Astonishing what clothes will do for a man. The expensive garments cast him as a respectable Englishman – so much so that he barely recognized his own reflection. If it weren’t for the prominent scar across his upper lip, there would be no physical traces of the life he had lived or the pain he had endured.

There were other scars, of course. His opulent garments hid those from view. Colin made certain of it.

He straightened his cravat then pushed several strands of hair into place. Though he had cut his long, haphazard mane before returning to England, it still refused to remain in place. Some things would never change Colin contemplated as he proceeded towards his visitor, his faint footfalls barely audible above the rapid heartbeat pounding in his ears.

Placing his hand on the cool brass knob, he paused, allowing himself time to straighten his shoulders and inhale a fortifying breath. He then opened the drawing room door as his eyes scanned the room for Eve, who he found standing in front of a tall bank of windows at the far wall, her countenance serene while her eyes remained fixed upon something outside.