Her stomach rumbled, reminding her she had forgotten to eat again. It was hard to remember mealtimes when her days were filled with so much instruction. There was also the corset to worry about. It was so tight, she was afraid eating as much as a pea would cause a tear in the dratted thing.
Maybe if she just looked at the food she would feel better.
Evelyn glided to the table and gasped yet again.
It was glorious.
Meat dishes filled every inch of the table, making her mouth water. Oh, how she loved meat. Only as a tear escaped the side of her eye did she realize she was actually crying over food.
"I must say, this is a first," a deep voice interrupted from behind her.
Closing her eyes, she turned around.
"Doubtful that closing your eyes will make me disappear, though you're welcome to try," the voice drawled. A faint British accent could be heard in the words.
Her girlish curiosity got the better of her. She opened her eyes. And froze.
Staring back at her had to be the most wicked-looking man on God's green earth.
Dark chocolate eyes, wavy black hair, and deep-set dimples faced her.
Not one to swoon, she leaned on the nearest stand of flowers and prayed it wouldn't crash to the floor.
"I don't think we've been introduced," she said slowly, trying to dampen her Southern accent.
"I think I would have remembered," he replied, bringing her hand up to his lips. His eyes held wicked intent. Unfortunately, she was just the type of girl to let that cause butterflies rather than warning signals in her body.
He stared at her longer than necessary, causing her to feel uncomfortable. This man was obviously bad news. "Your name?" he prompted.
She searched her head for the right answer. Wasn't it improper to introduce herself? Wait, no, that was in London. In America you could say your name without a chaperone present, couldn't you? She opened her mouth to speak, and then she snapped it shut. There were too many rules! What if she guessed wrong?
He lifted an eyebrow in response, prodding her into action.
"Evelyn De Jarlias. And you are?" She scolded herself for being so forward.
"Whoever you want me to be," he crooned, drawing closer.
"Oh. So you're one of those." The words were out of her mouth before she had time to think. Oh well. She was probably already going to make a mess of things with this one anyway; may as well jump in with both feet.
"One of what?"
"A lady's man? A rake of the first order. You know, the man who wants to be whatever the lady says just so he can lift her skirts."
He had the good sense to blush.
"I'm not sure a lady of good breeding should talk about skirt-lifting."
"And I'm not sure a gentleman should acknowledge my shortcomings. And I'm not a lady. I mean, I'm a lady as in I'm a female… Oh, drat!" He was biting his lip to keep from laughing. "Never mind. Oh, I messed this up more than Betsy when she trampled all our hens last fall."
"Hens?"
"Birds," she said, slowly enough for him to understand.
Obviously he did because he looked quite put out.
"Yes, I know what a bird is, Miss De Jarlias, although I do appreciate any lessons having to do with the animal kingdom. Do you by any chance want to discuss mating? I find it fascinating."
"I'm sure you would find anything fascinating if it had to do with making anyone within a safe distance more aware of your sexual prowess," she quipped, then put her hand over her mouth. There I go again.
He let out a burst of laughter. "Miss De Jarlias, do you want to dance?"
"With you?" she clarified.
"Unless you want to go find—Betsy, was it?"
She nodded, feeling slightly lightheaded.
"Yes, well, I don't see her. I'm assuming she's a cow or some sort of farm creature. So it looks like you're stuck with me."
Speechless, she followed him onto the dance floor for a waltz.
The music began, and she became lost in the essence of what it felt like to live in a fairy tale. That is, until Royce opened his mouth.
"So, when would be a good time to discuss your odd habit of crying in front of food? Or was it just the meat that set you off? I'm not here to pass judgment on a fellow lover of all things carnal, mind you. I just find it interesting that you were so moved by the delicacies in front of you, yet didn't take even one, tiny, tempting bite.
Good Lord, it was hot in that ballroom.
She drew a shaky breath and laughed awkwardly. "Well, I… that is…"
"Yes, please continue," he mocked.
"I'm not sure…" She rolled her eyes, giving up the good fight of etiquette. "I can hardly squeeze myself into my corset as it is. If I eat, I'll surely explode, and the first thing to go would most likely be my dress, sending buttons popping everywhere. I can see them now. Flying into people's champagne glasses, putting out someone's eye. The damage could be quite devastating. And the last thing I need is to embarrass my daddy." The Southern accent was back full force, causing her to feel a little better about life. Well, that and the fact she was dancing with the most beautiful man she had ever met—even if he was sin incarnate.
He looked away at the end of her little confession.
Their little flirtation was over with, it seemed.
The dance ended. She curtsied and turned toward her father, but Royce grabbed her hand and pulled her back into his embrace.
"I don't believe this is proper."
"What do you mean?"
She rolled her eyes. "I mean, it isn't proper for us to dance two dances in a row, sir."
"Oh." He nodded his head. "Right, then. Follow me."
She had no other option but to follow, as he literally dragged her through the crowd of curious onlookers and outside onto a balcony.
"Well, that was rude." Wrenching her arm free, she was half tempted to slap him across his perfectly-chiseled jaw.
"Yes, well, we have unfinished business."
"We do?" Her voice was a mixture of dread and excitement. Curse her inability to look away from his alluring eyes.
"Yes." His tone was clipped. Had she upset him?
His eyes, now large and menacing, raked over her entire body before he held out a single hand and touched the side of her cheek, sending chills all the way down to her toes.
Chapter Two
Oh, he was trouble. She could feel it in her bones, could feel the way her entire body burned like it was on fire. If one light touch sent her into fits of passion, then surely more touching would lead…
"I need to go." Evelyn stepped around him, almost reaching the door before she felt his hands on her hips.