Too Dangerous to Desire (19 page)

“Why?”

“He didn’t want a positive influence to distort his wicked protégé.”

“I see.”

“But once Damian was older and Father’s clout started to take its hold, I lost my brother.” Adam pointed to his chest. “Damian didn’t exist in here anymore. I tried to help him, to drag him away from the terrible vice that consumed his life . . . but I couldn’t save him.”

“I understand. Your father’s hold was too great.”

“Father died more than a decade ago, but still Damian reigned as the ‘Duke of Rogues’ until . . .”

“Until?”

“Until he met his wife. She offered him strength: the strength he needed to heal.”

Evelyn was struck by the truth of his words. Adam was teaching her to fight with swords and fists, but she still lacked strength: the inner strength to defeat the prince in her mind. Adam had suggested she get angry; it would help her
find that missing strength. But how could she get
past the
fear
to get to the anger?

“Why did you bring me here, Adam?”

He spoke with uncanny conviction. “Because you will be safe here.”

“You are at odds with your brother. Why would I be safe here?”

“He will not hurt you, Evie.”

“But he might . . . to avenge himself on you.”

“He won’t.”

“How do you know that?”

“My mother lives in London. She writes to me often. I know my brother has changed. He is not the ‘Duke of Rogues’ anymore.”

A mother’s fondest hope, Evelyn mused. But it did not negate the fact that both Adam and his mother might be wrong about the duke. Four years was a long time for a temper to rankle. Per
haps the duke was filled with bitter hate toward his brother after all.

And what about Adam? Was his anger toward the duke really gone? The duchess wasn’t so sure. She believed Adam capable of violence.

Evelyn
really
wasn’t safe inside the castle.

“You are still frightened?” he said. “Of me?”

She was overwhelmed with uncertainty— about everything. “Is that why you are so skilled in swordplay? And fisticuffs?”

Adam approached her. “I spent a long time preparing my revenge against the duke. After the ship’s sinking, I washed up on an island off the coast of Wales. I was delirious with grief and a fever, and I lost my memory for almost a year. I lived with a group of monks who took care of me. Once my memory returned I spent another year learning how to fight . . . to kill before I con
fronted my brother. But I think it’s time I put that training to better use.”

She eyed him curiously. “How?”
“Let me teach you all that I know.”
“About death?”
“Use the knowledge to live, Evie.”
She inhaled a shaky breath. Her heart was
thumping, her pulse tapping. She was confused. Who was the real villain here? She stepped away from the tree, away from Adam. “I want to return to the castle.”

nm

velyn stood beside the window in the parlor. Ever since her escape from the coffin, warm light was intoxicating to her. She needed to bathe in it for comfort.

But still a darkness dwelled in her heart.

I stabbed him.

Even the memory of the words chilled her to the bone. No wonder the duchess feared Adam. He had stabbed the duke! He
was
a dangerous man. She had always suspected it . . . but Adam claimed he wasn’t filled with hatred anymore, that the strife with his brother was over; he had changed.

She wasn’t so sure, though. A violent man was always violent. He might bury his feral inclina
tions, act a gentleman at times, but beneath the thick exterior of grace and charm was a beast ready to pounce.

She knew firsthand.

She shivered at the morbid thought. It was a good thing Adam wasn’t going to stay with her in America. She didn’t want to spend the rest of her days wondering:
Will he hurt me as he hurt his brother?

Evelyn lifted her head at the sound of heavy footfalls.

A chill enveloped her spirit at the sight of the Duke of Wembury. He stood under the door frame in a lazy manner, regarding her with an intense curiosity that was hard to ignore.

Beads of sweat pooled between her fingers at the intimidating sight. She noted there was no other door for her to escape through. Trapped inside the room with the rogue, she swallowed to moisten her dry throat.

“Good morning, Your Grace.”

He did not respond. Instead he continued to stare at her with inquisitive blue eyes.

She prattled onward: “Thank you for your hospitality.”

The duke stepped deeper into the room, but still said nothing.

Did the devil have his tongue?

Her heart quickened as he approached her slowly.

At length he said, “What do you think of my brother?”

Lightly her hands trembled. After Adam’s
shocking confession, she truly didn’t know what to think of him.

“He saved my life.” It was not a direct answer, but Evelyn was filled with uncertainty and didn’t know how to respond. Adam
had
saved her life. He had a noble side. But he had a dark nature, too. It shadowed the tender soul she had come to know at the cottage. The only real question was: How much of the darkness in his heart still ruled his senses?

The duke stilled a short distance away from her and crossed his hands behind his back. “That isn’t a proper answer.”

Her tremors worsened. She sensed the duke was searching for something: an answer to a question he was too uncomfortable to ask outright. “What else is there to say?”

“He is going with you to America . . . Do you enjoy his company?”

She enjoyed his kisses . . . the feel of his crush
ing hold . . . the rough timbre of his voice.

Distressed to admit the truth, she ignored the duke’s question to clarify instead, “Your brother is going to escort me to America, but then he will return to England.”

The duke’s dark brow creased. “That isn’t the impression my brother made the other night.”

Now her voice quivered, too. “I asked him not to stay with me in America.”

“Why?”

She twisted her fingers together. “Adam be
longs here in England with his family.”

Away from me.

The duke appeared genuinely glum. “I don’t think Adam wants to be here with us.”

Evelyn observed the man closely. The quiet sad
ness in his voice disarmed her. Slowly the tight knot in her belly unraveled, and she looked upon the duke with a newfound light.

He was not the frightening reprobate anymore. Rather he was a simple man mourning the loss of his brother’s friendship. It occurred to her then that Adam had been right: the “Duke of Rogues” had retired his epithet.

It also occurred to her that between the two brothers, it was Adam who concealed the greater darkness.

“I’ve taken up enough of your time, Lady Evelyn.” He composed his features. “I’m here on an errand. My wife requests your company in the drawing room.”

“Thank you for inviting me to tea, Belle.”

“Think nothing of it, my dear.” The duchess tried to set her cup and saucer on the low round table, but couldn’t quite reach it, so she set the china across her round belly instead. “We ladies have to band together in a castle overrun with men.”

Evelyn sipped her tea with pleasure. She had been deprived of the afternoon ritual after many years of poverty. “I don’t know how you’ve man
aged so far with so many men afoot.”

“Oh, I’m used to it.” Mirabelle waved a hand. “I grew up in a household full of men: a father and four brothers.”

“What happened to your mother?”

“She died in childbirth to Quincy.” Her voice softened. “I was four at the time so I don’t remem
ber her very well. Although my older brothers assure me I look very much like her.”

Evelyn said quietly, “I lost my mother at a young age, too.”

“Then we are kindred spirits, you and I.”

A warmth touched Evelyn’s heart at the tender sentiment. It had been a long time since she’d known the comforts of a sisterly bond.

The duchess took a sip of tea. “There was an
other reason I asked you to tea, Evie.”

“Yes?”

“We should organize some belongings for you. To take with you on your trip to America.”

“You don’t have to do that, Belle.”

“I want to do it. Besides you can’t travel with just one dress.” She patted her round belly. “And if it wasn’t for the babe,
I’d
be the one ac
companying you to America as chaperone, not Adam.”

Thoughts of Adam set her pulse pounding, and she blurted: “I know Adam stabbed your husband.”

The other woman shifted slightly. “I see Adam confessed his past to you.”

To quiet the mad rush of emotion in her breast, Evelyn took in a deep breath before she said with more grace, “I understand why you fear him, Belle. I would, too.”

“Yes, about that . . . I don’t fear him anymore, Evie.”

She blinked. “You don’t?”

“I wouldn’t allow him inside the castle if I really believed he might hurt the duke again.”

“What changed your mind about Adam?”

“I understand the man better. Four years ago, Adam was angry and distraught. He blamed the duke for his wife’s death. Wrongly, of course. But I can see he’s changed.”

Evelyn’s thoughts returned to Adam and the grisly confession he had made earlier in the day. “Do you think a violent man can change, Belle?”

“No. But I think an angry man can find peace.” She winked. “I know my husband did.”

Then was it possible Adam really
had
mended his ways? Evelyn was overwhelmed by the thought. If the man had changed, she needn’t fear him. And yet he still possessed a mighty pull over
her senses. Surely
that
was something she should still fear?

“You are very good to forgive Adam for what he did to the duke.”

The duchess snorted. “The duke would like to reconcile with his brother. And I do have a par
ticular fondness for my husband.” Then in a whis
per, she said, “There’s just something about His Grace that’s so attractive; I can’t seem to deny him his fondest wish.”

“I don’t think your brothers see the charm.”

The duchess laughed heartily. “No, I don’t sup
pose they do. In truth, I didn’t see the
charm
in Damian at first, either . . . or perhaps I did, but I just didn’t want to admit it to myself?”

“How do you mean?”

The duchess appeared deep in thought. “Well, my feelings for the duke were frightening at first. I suppose I just didn’t want to acknowledge them for that very reason: I was too afraid.”

“And now?” Evelyn asked boldly.

“Now I can’t live without the feelings—or the man.”

Evelyn pondered the idea: being unable to live without someone. At one time she had thought her life void without Ella. And yet gradually she had learned to exist without her.

Oh, she had desperately missed her sister: the pain of separation still smarted in her breast. But
she had lived. Evelyn did not understand the sort of bond the duchess was referring to: one where even the will to survive depended upon another.

“The duke has a very strong hold over you, doesn’t he?” said Evelyn. And not without a hint of resentment, for there was always a man in her life with a hold over her.

“And I have one over him . . . or so I like to think.”

“You have a hold over the duke?”

She smiled with mischief. “Any woman can have power over a man, Evie.”

Evelyn was bewitched by the idea. She won
dered what it would feel like to have power over a man. Power
less
most of her life, she found it an attractive thought.

“How does one have power over a man, Belle?”

“You must make him fall madly in love with you.”

Her heart fluttered. “Really?”

“Oh yes. The more he loves you, the more power you have over him. Unfortunately, the deuced sen
timent works both ways, for I fell madly in love with the duke.”

Evelyn rubbed the rim of her teacup in somber thought. “So you’re still powerless in the end?”

The duchess eyed her guest with quiet scrutiny.

“You know, I was only teasing, Evie. Love isn’t a

power struggle. Or it shouldn’t be.”

“But you
are
powerless in the affair?”

Mirabelle sighed. “I lost some of my power, I suppose: the power to be in complete control of my emotions, for love makes one feel many dif
ferent things.”

“It sounds so frightening . . . so why love at all?”

“I don’t think one really has a choice in the matter, Evie.”

Evelyn disagreed. She had no intention of plac
ing herself in a position of weakness again. “I would rather live without love.”

The duchess eyed her with tender regard. “You sound like one of my brothers.”

“There’s no Mrs. Pirate?”

She chuckled. “I’m afraid not.” Then, with more gravity: “Are you sure you’d rather live without love, Evie?”

“Yes.” Her fingers tightened around the china. “I’m sure. I don’t want to give a man power over me—in any way.”

“You might change your mind one day.”

“No, I won’t.”

“The right man might come along and inspire you to take a chance at love. He might even steal your heart without you realizing it.”

“Is that what happened to you, Belle?”

“Yes, in a manner,” she said dryly. “I should have robbed
his
heart, the blackguard. I was the bloody pirate.”

Evelyn choked on the tea. “
You’re
a pirate, too?”

“Was, my dear. Well, I had a short-lived career at it, unlike my brothers, who took to it for years.”

Quickly Evelyn patted her chin with a napkin to mop the dribble. “The duke married a pirate?”

“Scandalous, I know . . . but the poor devil couldn’t live without me. Ouch!”

Swiftly Evelyn set the cup and saucer on the table and rushed to kneel beside the duchess. She took the china, ringing in the woman’s shaky grip, and set it aside, too.

“Are you all right, Belle?”

“I’m fine.” She clutched her belly. “The babe just kicked, is all.” She looked down at her swol
len midriff. “Anxious to come into the world, aren’t you?” She then muttered, “I bloody hope it’s a boy. I don’t think I can raise another girl like Alice.”

“Do you want me to summon the duke?”

“No, he’ll only fuss. The babe’s not due till the end of the month.”