Free A Taste of Seduction by Bronwen Evans Page A

revealed,” and a sickness invaded his stomach.
    If her story was true, how could he ever live with himself?

Chapter 4
    Evangeline had been escorted safely home two hours ago, at five in the morning.
    She had agreed to allow guards to be posted in the grounds, with two in the foyer of the house, and he’d sent a missive to the Bow Street Runners requesting ten of their best men to keep the house under surveillance at all times. The Runners had been told that someone took a shot at Lady Evangeline.
    This didn’t help his second problem.
    She had the journals, and she refused to share unless he bared his soul. He shoved his hand into his pocket and fingered the letter, fighting an urge to crumple it in his fist. He was a coward for not wishing to face what he now suspected was the truth—her truth.
    What irked him more was that she was now back in his life in a way he could not control. He could not simply ignore her or send her back to the wilds of Scotland.
    And she’d found the weapon to wedge herself back into his life without having to prove her innocence. He’d need her either way—because he needed the journals.
    He pulled his cravat from around his neck, his throat tightening in anger. She would not let him peruse the journals unless he did her bidding.
    Lady Victoria Thompson deserved closer inspection. It would appear Arend’s hunch was a good one. What Evangeline had revealed about her husband not trusting Isobel’s stepmother confirmed that Arend was wise to focus his attention on her. Victoria had a secret past.
    A past she kept hidden.
    He glanced at the clock on the mantel. It had just gone seven in the morning, and he expected Arend soon. He needed to bathe and change before then. Wearily he stood and looked longingly at his bed; the impression of where Evangeline had lain was evident. He pressed his face to his pillow, loving the scent of her that lingered there.
    He drew back. If her story was true, how could she ever forgive him? Either way, there would be no future with Evangeline.
    He
was
marrying Claire.
    There was no time to rest or to dwell on what might have been. There was a killer he had to apprehend. He moved to the window to watch the sunrise. His rooms looked out over the back garden—ironically, directly into Evangeline’s townhouse. He’d had no idea that her husband owned the townhouse backing onto his family’s London home.
    He was pleased he hadn’t known. It would have been too much to bear, as if Viscount Stuart were mocking him.
    He stood watching the house over the garden wall. He wondered whose room was exactly opposite his.
    He was about to turn away when a movement at the large windows stopped him. A curtain was drawn back and a child’s face pressed against the glass, probably looking out to see what kind of day it was. The sun was beginning to shine, but there were plenty of clouds about.
    He couldn’t make out the child’s face; he thought it was a boy with darkish, curly hair, though it could be a little girl. Hadley’s hands curled into fists as he realized this was likely Evangeline’s son.
    The little boy looked up and saw him staring, and a wee hand waved. Hadley waved back. An adult, probably his nanny, came up behind him and pulled the boy away from the window, and just like that, the boy was gone.
    A sense of loss swamped him, and he cursed at his own stupidity. How could a simple wave from a child have his stomach in painful knots?
    Because it was Evangeline’s child.
    Later, as he lay in his tub trying not to dwell on what should have been—his son with Evangeline—doubt began to creep in. What if she had been coerced into marriage? It would mean he had been played, duped, and she had paid the price. Paid it with brutality against her person. He pushed that horrible thought away.
    She seemed so sure she could prove her innocence in the matter, and that sent waves of unease through his limbs.
    Scotland, the Highlands in particular, were remote. What if