Enticing Eve: Scandalous Secrets, Book 2 (25 page)

“Name the time and place, and I shall marry you a thousand times over.”

Relief washed over him in a rush. He bent his head and kissed her with all the tenderness his heart had concealed for so long. Her kiss, sweet as the wine she consumed at dinner turned salty, and Colin withdrew, concern permeating his previous bliss once he noted her tear stained cheeks.

“What is it?” he asked, fear of her answer squeezing his chest in a vise grip.

“I never expected you to love me,” she whispered.

“Shush,” he smoothed the lines of worry in her forehead with a kiss. “I have always loved you, and someday you will understand why I went abroad.
 
I promise you that.”

He knew she wanted to believe him. He could see it in her eyes, bright as the lush green grass of spring with specks as golden as the sun. The same dazzling gaze that once reflected trust and devotion now betrayed her doubts and fear.

“You have yet to tell me where you went,” her fingers toyed with a strand of his hair. “I can’t even be certain there was no other woman in your life.”

He nuzzled against her neck, kissing her again. “There has never been anyone else. My heart has always belonged to you.”

It was time.
 

Colin reached into his jacket pocket, removing the velvet lined ring box he had carried with him for so long.

Leaning against the billiard table, he turned the box around, so it faced Eve. “It’s been a year since I bought this for you. I think it’s time I see it on your finger.”
 

He pried the box open as he said with quiet emphasis, “You are the only woman who has ever touched my heart. Now and always, my heart belongs to you.”

Her mouth formed an “o”, and she gasped aloud. For a brief moment, Colin could swear that Eve was holding her breath. When she tore her gaze from the shining gem at last, her eyes were over-bright with unshed tears. “It is the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen, Colin.”

“It’s for the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known,” he whispered, his voice rough with such emotion that it caused her pulse to quicken. Then he added, “I kept my promise.”

Eve was well aware of the promise to which he referred:
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.
 

Unable to contain her tears, she allowed them to fall freely now.
 

“Don’t cry.” With great care, Colin wiped her tears with the pads of his fingertips.
 

“I can’t help it,” she said, her guilt weighing heavily upon her heart. More tears drifted down her cheeks, but she didn’t care … she had to say it. “I stopped believing you loved me, and you give me a ring you bought a year ago. Long after I thought you’d forgotten me.”

“It’s over now. Our future is all that matters,” he pulled her closer against him with his free hand then kissed the crook of her neck.

“Colin,” she clutched him tighter, refusing to break the spell woven by his warm embrace. “I’m sorry that I lost faith in you.”

His kisses trailed from her neck to her cheek, then to her eyes. He kissed her closed lids before saying at last, “It was nothing less than I deserved.”

“No, that’s not true.”

He shushed her again, this time with a kiss, his lips still salty from her tears. When their lips parted, he asked again, “Will you marry me, Miss Weston?”

They were the sweetest words Eve had ever heard, second only to his
I love you
.

She smiled, blinking back tears as she nodded.

“Say it,” he coaxed.

“I will marry you,” she nodded, wiping her eyes with the pads of her fingers. She then spoke louder, her words echoing against the wood paneling, “Yes, I will marry you.”

Colin tossed the ring box on the billiard table behind him then slid the large emerald ring onto Eve’s finger. “I never thought I’d hear those words,” he admitted, kissing the palm of her hand in a tender gesture of undying devotion.

Until tonight, she dared not consider that Colin still loved her, that he was as besotted with her as she was with him. It was in response to that realization that Eve decided not to play any more games with him. For the first time since his proposal, Eve decided not to hold back. If she ended up hurt, it wouldn’t be because she didn’t try.

His love was worth more to her than her pride, even her life.

“I have never stopped loving you,” she said aloud, with even more resolve than before, “and I could have made that last shot if I wanted to.”

“I know,” Colin’s tone conveyed his exasperation. He then crushed his lips against hers while Eve said a silent prayer of thanks.
 

Thank you, God, for bringing him home to me.

Since her heart was light at last, a chill of dread coursed through her veins because in an instant there was so much to lose.

For the first time since Colin had returned, Eve realized just how much she was risking. Her heart, her happiness, her future lay in the hands of a man who had once deserted her. How could she be certain he wouldn’t do so again? What made his love so different now than it was then?
 

Eve tore her mouth from his, her eyes searching his for a sign, some sort of confirmation that this time Colin wouldn’t abandon her.
 

Tell me it will be different this time,
her heart pleaded.

She found the reassurance she sought in the warmth and candor of his eyes, which were the color of lapis lazuli and now brimming with emotion. Reflected within those depths were his love and devotion as well as his hopes for their future. She hadn’t seen such an outpouring of emotion from him since his return and, although not a guarantee, it was enough to sustain her.
 

It also conjured a flutter of uncertainty in her chest as she still had no idea where he’d been or what made his eyes dull and devoid of happiness much of the time.

Colin was haunted by something, of that she was certain. Eve would have to be strong for him, fully prepared to fight for the man she loves.

Please God, help me save him from himself.
 

Chapter 12

Victoria’s gleaming carriage emblazoned with the Duke of Davenport’s family crest arrived in front of Tristan’s townhome somewhere around mid-morning. She was residing at her brother’s London residence with Meg, her maid and chaperone on this excursion. Hers would be a brief visit with one goal in mind – help Tristan get through this day.

Still feeling betrayed by both his brother and his former betrothed was sure to make the day of Colin and Eve’s wedding challenging at best. Then there was the list of those in attendance. Though small, it included Sebastian and Gwen.

Although they refused to take sides, nor did Tristan ask them to, Victoria suspected that the fact that they were celebrating Colin and Eve’s union with the happy couple would distress him.

Meg accompanied her mistress up the stone steps to the mahogany front door, reaching for the gilded knocker and rapping for entry. Tristan’s butler, a slim man with exaggerated cheekbones, salt and pepper hair and deep-set eyes greeted them with what sounded surprisingly like a warning.
 

“Lady Victoria, my master hasn’t specifically instructed against callers; however, now may not be the best time for a visit.”

Victoria steeled her shoulders, attempting in her most haughty tone to broker no argument. “You shall take me to him nevertheless.”

The tall man led her down a hallway carpeted in rich hunter green and burgundy hues to a closed door. Before the butler could reach for the handle, Victoria announced, “I’ll let myself in. Please see to it that my maid is provided some refreshments.”

Tristan’s butler bowed then retreated with a deep sigh though whether it was one of warning or relief Victoria knew not. The doubt it conjured was enough for Victoria to take her own deep, fortifying breath before entering. She then silently closed the door for privacy, standing stock-still for several seconds as her eyes adjusted to the dark room cloaked in shadow.

The heavy drapes were closed as if the inhabitant was in complete denial of the bright day beaming outside. Instead, a few gas lamps emitted a soft glow; barely illuminating what she suspected was Tristan’s home office.

The room was masculine with what appeared to be a mahogany desk and a flank of matching bookshelves against the far wall. The hearth was ablaze – simply unheard of due to the warm temperature outside. Surrounded by a leather sofa and two overstuffed chairs, it was a small sitting area.
 

From the looks of it, an oriental rug accentuated the cozy space as did a table in front of the hearth – that same sitting area where she found Tristan seated in silence on the sofa, his boots resting on the table before him, a tumbler half-f of what she assumed to be liquor resting in his hands.

“I expected to find you in seclusion today,” Victoria said, her tone gentle with understanding as she added, “I never expected said seclusion would be obscured by shadows and a raging fire.”

Tristan raised his glass in a silent toast, “The sunshine mocks my misery.” He failed to turn towards her.

“Oh, my, that is morose,” Victoria replied with a jaunty grin. “I see I have my work cut out for me.”

Glancing across the room, she found the sideboard containing several crystal decanters and matching tumblers. Victoria then tossed her gloves and reticule onto one of the overstuffed chairs and crossed the room before grabbing a decanter of something, precisely what she knew not, and a tumbler for herself before returning to Tristan and placing her bounty on the table before him.
 

Victoria settled next to him on the sofa and poured herself some of the dark amber liquid. She sniffed it, the alcohol strong from the mere scent, before taking a swig.

It was the first time he turned towards her, she noted, his eyes wide with surprise as the alcohol burned a fiery path down her throat.
 

She clutched the glass and gasped for air. “Good God, what is this?” Victoria was certain her breath was on fire.

“Bourbon,” Tristan chuckled. “It is imported.”

“That explains it,” she muttered with a cough before placing her glass on the table.

Tristan studied her for a moment then noted, “I didn’t expect to see you today. Shouldn’t you be with Colin and Eve celebrating their marital bliss?”

“I chose to see how you are faring on this fine morning,” she raked him from head to toe. Tristan wore no jacket, but his shirt, cravat, vest and trousers all seemed in fine condition. Though he had imbibed, he wasn’t foxed, at least not yet. She suspected that was his intention, though.
 

Reaching for her glass again, she took a smaller sip this time, noting the burning sensation had lessened. “Besides, you have imported bourbon, something I am certain their ceremony is lacking. Then, of course, there is the fact that the bride verbally trounced me the day after you caught her with Colin.”

Tristan’s brows furrowed.

“It is a very long story,” Tori explained with a shrug of her shoulders. “She needed someone to blame, and I possessed the good fortune of being present at the time.”
 

He
clinked
his glass against hers in a toast. “Here’s to outcasts, then.”

They both took another swig though Tristan’s was much heftier than Victoria’s.
 

“Dare I ask what the fire is for? I fear it is some sort of funeral pyre,” Victoria quipped, arching her brow as she placed her glass on the table.

Tristan followed suit then rose, heading to the fireplace in swift, panther-like strides. She noted a small, simple wooden box positioned on the mantel, seemingly out of place between the gilded clock and matching frames with renderings of Gwen and the twins. He grabbed the box and tossed it upon the sofa beside Tori.
 

“A pyre is an adequate description,” he said at last.

She opened the box with care, noting that it was filled with a stack of letters, folded neatly and tied with a green satin ribbon. Eve’s letters, Victoria realized it in an instant as Tristan poured himself another glass of his fine liquor.

Only after downing half his glass did he reach for the letters and toss them into the fire one by one. The red and orange flames danced around each sheet, charring the edges before consuming the coiling paper in an impressive blaze.
 

Victoria noted that one thing remained in the box – a topaz ring with a gold band. She knew it to be Eve’s betrothal ring from Tristan. Although pretty, it was no match for the brilliant emerald she now wore.

“I am sorry, Tristan,” Victoria whispered.

“That is a club you do not wish to join,” his words dripped with sarcasm.

As if reading her confusion, he explained, “She sent me the package by messenger a few days ago along with a note telling me that she and Colin are sorry.”

Sorry.

Oh, he was certain they were sorry. Their apologies weren’t enough though. For God’s sake, he had been Eve’s protector, along with Sebastian.