The dance sent them separate ways. Evangeline caught Fanny smiling smugly at her, and it took real effort to keep from glaring back at her friend. She went through the motions of the dance, newly aware of the curdling glances sent her way by every other woman in the set. That wasn’t right. She hadn’t done anything remotely scandalous tonight.
When she was back by her partner’s side, she tried to talk of mundane things. “Your presentation was well-received,” she told him.
“Was it?” He smiled faintly. “It seems my travels are the most interesting thing about me.” He lifted one shoulder in an almost Gallic shrug.
I doubt very much that’s true.Evangeline’s pace slowed as her interest grew. “You must know they are fascinating, especially to the British who have felt penned in by wars these last several years.”
“Then they should go where the wars are not. Do you find my travels fascinating?”
“Yes,” she said before she could remember to be more sophisticated and disinterested. “Very.”
He touched her arm, even though the dance didn't require it, and she felt it like the hot burn of a candle flame, passing toonear her skin. “I would be very pleased to tell you more about them.”
She should be wary. He was wildness and temptation and sin, his fingertips barely brushing the skin above her glove and setting off the most ferocious want she’d felt in years, which unsettled her. She was a woman of two-and-forty now, not a headstrong girl seeking adventure or a young widow yearning for passion. She saw Campion’s flirting for what it was, recognized the desire in his focused gaze, and that should have protected her against all of it.
It did not.
She had been tarred by scandal before, sometimes for things she had done, but largely for things she had not done; she had tossed her head and declared she didn’t care, but the gossip and stares had left their mark. Tonight, it felt as though the part of her that had been weighed down by all that had finally reached the breaking point.
“Indeed,” she murmured, letting her fingers slide through his as she released his hand. “I believe I would like that.”
The dance was ending; they made their bow and curtsy and Sir Richard offered his arm to escort her from the floor. “May I call on you?” he rasped, ducking his head slightly until his lips almost brushed her ear. Evangeline shivered; he wasn’t much taller than she, just enough that if she turned her head and raised her chin, her lips would meet his.
She could barely think; her skin prickled and her breath seemed to sear her throat dry. “Yes,” she said. “Good evening, sir.” She slipped free to hurry to Fanny’s side, reaching for her fan.
Fanny glanced at her, then looked closer. “My dear, are you ill?”
“Yes.” Evangeline seized a glass off a passing footman’s tray and gulped down the champagne, hoping it would cool the fever sizzling inside her. “I feel a fit of madness coming on.”
Keenly Fanny peered past her. “Heavens above,” she said, sounding pleased. “He has aroused your interest.”
Arousedwas a terrible word to use now. Evangeline gave her friend a dark look.
Fanny turned fully toward her and took her hand. “My dear, you have spent your whole adult life as a resentful wife or an unhappy widow,” she said quietly. “You are not dead. You deserve to enjoy yourself.”
Evangeline hesitated. “But I made such a mistake with?—”
“This is a different man.”
“And it ended so very badly with?—”
“Break it off with Campion before he can break it off with you,” replied Fanny, who knew all her history with men, as well as all her fears and worries. “The man is leaving England within the week,” she added gently. “He won’t be here to cause a scene or become a nuisance. Really, he is quite perfect for your needs.”
She was having a hard time arguing with that. “I don’t dare,” she whispered.
Fanny, the old busybody, understood again. “Take him to my house. Your usual room is always kept ready for you.” She released Evangeline with a final squeeze. “And Brumley will throw the man out, forcibly if necessary, if he causes any trouble.”
Evangeline’s mouth was dry. Could she really do this? Without thinking, she glanced toward the man in question, and found his vivid blue gaze fixed on her.
Fanny waved one hand. “You may thank me later.” And she strolled away without a backward glance.
Evangeline felt as if every candle in the room was shining on her, highlighting the sinful desire warming her blood. Takinga strange man home to bed him, with no thought of anything else! Other women had done it, but she’d never been this brazen herself. She had always let the men pursue her; even Court had had to woo her for a month before she gave in to his seduction.
Sir Richard hadn’t even tried to seduce her. She felt his desire like the heat of a red-hot stove, but all he’d actually asked was to call on her...
Strangely, that calmed her. He hadn’t pushed her—nor would he. This time,shewould be in charge. This time she would set the rules, and this time she would not get burned by the affair. She was a widow; she was her own mistress; and she hadn’t had a lover in over a year. She wanted Richard Campion with an intensity that both unsettled her and thrilled her—and he was leaving London, virtually on the morrow. From his speech, she knew his journeys lasted for years at a time, plenty of time for him to forget one wicked widow in London. There was no risk of consequences.
She turned on her heel and looked his way. He hadn’t moved since she left him, and as if he’d heard a summons, he came straight to her, winding efficiently through the crowd.
