He may be cold and emotionless, and his life spent indulging in things he should not, but his needs were always met, and well.
Standing at the market, taking in the frayed hem of her skirts, sitting inches above her sturdy boots, the left foot resting on the right, he’d felt an unpleasant burning sensation in his chest, which Anthony told himself was indigestion, but he had a terrible feeling was emotion.
She was haggling over vegetables. The realization had been a humbling one and following on from that had been the need to help her. Anthony rarely felt those kinds of urges.
He’d found himself drawing closer to her, and then she’d turned, and they’d locked eyes. Hers had flashed fear, and then anger.
Anthony knew how to hide like that. How to push the fear away and replace it with anger. It allowed him to distance himself from others.
“Would you like tea, Evangeline?”
“You can’t pour my tea,” she said, clearly horrified. “And my name is Miss Spencer.”
“Why?”
“It is my name.”
“No, why can I not pour your tea?”
She actually spluttered.
“And I will ask again, why?” He raised the teapot and poured.
“I-you, it is not done.” She was clearly scandalized.
“I did not take you for one who was a stickler for rules, Evangeline, and before you say Miss Spencer, I will call you Evie or Evangeline when we are engaged, so pick one.”
She fell silent at that and took another large bite of the fruit bun. Evangeline did not nibble her food like other women he knew, which had him fighting a smile.
“So, you or your sister must make a match, or it will be disaster?” he said returning to the reason she was seated across from him, with her cook/housekeeper a few feet away more than happy eating cake.
“Yes.”
“Tell me, Evie or Evangeline, do you have money?”
“If it must be one of those, then Evangeline will do,” she said in a prim tone. “And I’m not sure I understand the question, my lord.”
He’d thought her eyes a simple brown, but they had flecks of gold in them. Surrounded by dark lashes and brows. She was a beautiful woman, and he wondered why the rest of society had not worked that out yet.
“Quite a simple one. Do you have money that you can give to me to invest for you, to make more money?”
That silenced her. Her lips formed a perfect O. Anthony sat back in his chair, as the urge to close the distance between them and taste her surged through him.
You don’t get urges.
He didn’t help people either…not quite true, but never a member of society who could use it against him.
“So, to silence you one must shock you. I will keep that information handy for the future,” Anthony said picking up his tea for no other reason than he felt a need to do something with his hands, because he wanted to touch her cheek. Test the texture and heat of it.
What was happening to him?
“Before you ask me why, again, let me tell you that if I make enough money for you then you will not need to wed, and your sister could possibly have more than one season, and perhaps a dowry?”
That caught her attention.
“But surely it is not possible to make such a sum when we are halfway through the season?”
“I can try on your behalf.”
