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The Greatest of Sins Page 21


  ‘I worried that I had lost you, when you were not at the inn. But the footman said your chest was there and I did not think you would leave without it.’

  ‘True,’ he said, hoping that this was not a prelude to another rejection.

  She sniffed. ‘You smell like beer.’

  ‘Breakfast,’ he said.

  ‘And medicine.’ She put her nose to his lapel. ‘We must have this coat cleaned immediately, so that you make a better impression on patients.’

  We? That sounded wonderfully possessive. But he must take nothing for granted. ‘Evelyn?’ He pushed her away so that he could think clearly enough to speak an entire sentence. ‘Why are you here?’

  ‘I came for you.’

  What a beautiful sound that was. Almost as good as I love you. But it could have other meanings than the one he wanted to give to it. ‘There is nothing wrong with the duke, I trust?’ he asked cautiously and braced himself for the worst.

  ‘Other than that I do not love him and he does not love me?’ She smiled. ‘No. There is nothing wrong with him at all.’ She gave him another small kiss on the corner of his mouth.

  For a moment he could not breathe again. And then he sighed like the lovesick fool he was.

  She was staring at his lips, as though admiring the shape of them, and touched the lower one with the tip of her finger. ‘The engagement is over. I parted on good terms with St Aldric. We are still friends. He loaned me his carriage and told me how to find you. And you must promise to be his friend as well. He needs friends, you see.’

  ‘Yes, Evelyn.’ He hardly cared what he was promising, so entrancing was the thought of that fingertip, just out of reach. He moved his mouth to catch it, nipping it lightly, sucking it into his mouth.

  They were kissing on a dock and he could hear the distant jeers of passing seamen. The suggestions they were making were crude and vulgar. And, praise heaven, for the first time in his life, some of them were in the realm of possibility. He needed to get her away from here, to get her alone. And to get her undressed. And he needed it soon.

  She pulled her finger away and gave him the lightest slap on the cheek to punish him, then let her palm rest there and dropped her head to his chest. ‘Afterwards, I talked to Father.’ There was no playfulness in her voice now. She sounded hesitant, and as shaken as he did when thinking of his conversations with Thorne.

  He sobered. ‘I see.’ She had not been spared, after all. His hope was evaporating again, just as it had so many times in the past.

  ‘He told me everything. I know what he said to you that made you leave.’

  Sam closed his eyes, put his chin on her shoulder and let the world pass them by. It was a rude, coarse and unkind place—all the things that their love was not. But perhaps it suited him. Her father was right in one thing: he was unworthy of such a woman. ‘I am sorry,’ he said.

  ‘You needn’t be. I am sorry. I was the one who doubted. But never again.’ She nestled against his chest and he imagined what it would be like, when they had exhausted themselves making love, to sleep with her just like this.

  ‘Never again,’ he agreed. ‘My darling Evelyn.’

  She lifted her head and kissed him on the corner of the mouth. ‘And you may call me Evie, again, by the way. Or Evelyn. Or Eve. Anything you like, really.’

  Anything I like. These swooping highs and lows of emotion could not be good for his blood pressure. But the possibilities in the word anything made him dizzy. ‘More than anything, I think I should like to call you Mrs Hastings,’ he said and waited for her to contradict him.

  ‘I should like that as well.’ She smiled and kissed him again, tugging his arm to move him towards the carriage. ‘Perhaps we could get the special licence from Michael. Then we might be married tomorrow.’

  ‘Not without your father’s consent,’ he reminded her. ‘You have another month until you are of age.’ When Thorne learned of their plans, there would be hell to pay. But it would be worth the price.

  ‘I do not mean to wait that long,’ she said.

  ‘Neither do I.’ He imagined the deep cushions and well-upholstered squabs that waited, just behind the carriage door.

  ‘We will have to go to Scotland. But not Gretna Green. You must show me Edinburgh.’

  It was a very long ride to Edinburgh. Several days. And the whole of it would be spent alone with Evie. Perhaps brother Michael did not mean to be so generous with his equipage as that. But the matter could be settled when they returned.

  ‘Oh, Lady Evelyn, I think you are right,’ he said, taking control and pulling her after him, up into the carriage, and into his lap. He imagined what would happen when his Evie met his teachers, his colleagues and perhaps his students. ‘I must show you Edinburgh. And we shall see what it makes of you.’ He grinned. It would be far more dangerous than going to sea. But it would never be dull.

  All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the incidents are pure invention.

  All Rights Reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises II BV/S.à.r.l. The text of this publication or any part thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, storage in an information retrieval system, or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher.

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the prior consent of the publisher in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

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  First published in Great Britain 2013

  by Mills & Boon, an imprint of Harlequin (UK) Limited.

  Harlequin (UK) Limited, Eton House, 18-24 Paradise Road, Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SR

  © Christine Merrill 2013

  eISBN: 978-1-472-00377-5

  Table of Contents

  Excerpt

  About the Author

  Author Note

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Copyright