“It means,” he murmured, “that I enjoy seeing how far you are willing to go.”
“Then tell me what it takes.” She refused to back down. Even now.Stopping this wedding really meant something to her.
“Well, Lady Isadora, that makes things simple,” he mused, retreating now. “If I am to stop a wedding, I need only something useful against the groom. One cannot destroy a man’s prospects without the proper leverage.”
“Leverage?” Isadora frowned. “That should not be difficult. He is a rake after all.”
“Yes, so you’ve mentioned more than a few times now.”
“But beyond that, I do not know much.”
At that, a slow smirk spread across Evan’s lips. He made a quiet sound of amusement. “What is his name?”
“The Marquess of Hartenshire,” she announced bitterly.
“Oh.”
“You know him?” Isadora’s eyes narrowed.
Evan let out a short chuckle. He knew him all too well.
“Well then,” he murmured, stepping around the desk, coming toward her now. “That clears things up beautifully.”
“What do you mean? Can you state things clearly?”
Now where was the fun in that?
“Let us just say, Hartenshire and I… have crossed paths before.”
“And? You have something substantial on him? You can stop the wedding?” Isadora was looking at him with pleading eyes.
“Perhaps I can,” he said easily. Then he stopped just before her, close enough that she had to tip her head back to hold his gaze. “But first, there is the matter of my payment.”
Isadora blinked, thrown off balance.
“Payment?”
“This is business after all,” Evan smirked. “You cannot expect to come to me with a task of this scale and not expect to give me anything in return.”
This was the moment in which he expected her to back away, but instead, she surprised him. She brightened immediately, shoulders straightening. “Of course. You will be compensated for your services. I will pay you whatever you want.”
“Oh, no. I have no need for money, Lady Isadora. I am not seeking a monetary reward for my services.”
“Then… what is it that you require?” she asked, frowning.
His gaze darkened slightly, assessing her for a moment. “A favor. You said it yourself that you wouldoweme.”
The words settled between them, shifting the air in the room. He could see the way she processed them—her brows knitting slightly and her lips parting.
And then, something else. It was not fear—that much Evan could tell.
It was something that made him want to step just a fraction closer. She was uneasy, yes, but not because she thought he would hurt her.
Because she did not know what to make of him. Few did.
That was the moment Evan decided this game would be far more entertaining than he had initially thought.
“And what will this favor entail?” she asked carefully.
