Alexander-Fyn-Sanguinarian

uncle was far from generous when I lived with him. Aside from that I never went anywhere that required me to dress well.”
    Raising a dark eyebrow, he said, “I will buy your clothes. There is no need to pay for your own.” His long forefinger remained on the button between her breasts. Finding her courage, Evangeline pushed it away.
    “I am not your wife yet, my lord.”
    “A mere detail, my dear.” He leaned back in his chair while Sanguinarian 47
    Evangeline eyed him warily, partly to make certain where his hands were and partly to assess his mood. Perhaps it was his long limbs, but he always appeared to be lounging and he had a disconcerting habit of staring straight and unwaveringly into her eyes. “We will marry tomorrow,” he said simply.
    Gathering her wits, Evangeline looked down modestly.
    Tomorrow? That’s far too soon . She met his eyes as though a very important point had suddenly occurred to her. “But that’s impossible, my lord, I have no gown.”
    He waved a hand in dismissal. “I can provide you with a gown.
    There are clothes here that will do for you until I can bring in a dressmaker.”
    “Why would you have ladies’ clothing here, my lord?” she inquired.
    “Ladies have left things here over the years, and my grandmother’s trunk is somewhere about. She was little like you.
    Munk will unearth it. I’m sure I can find you something.”
    “I’m afraid that won’t do, my lord,” she said politely, yet firmly.
    When Raven started up she reined in the desire to leap back and went on calmly. “A lady marries only once in her life if she is very fortunate. A wedding day is a day to remember for the rest of one’s life. A used and discarded gown simply won’t do, sir.”
    “Ahhh.” Raven settled back in his chair, eyeing her with a touch of suspicion, yet he had noticeably lowered his guard. “Yes, I see. But there is no time to make a new gown between now and tomorrow afternoon.”
    “Is there really such a rush, sir?”
    He sipped his wine contemplatively, taking the time to inhale the scent. “Today is Tuesday, in ten days we…” He half-smiled then corrected himself, “I turn thirty.”
    “Then we have a week to plan, my lord, longer actually.”
    “No.” His eyes glinted in the candle light. “No, I want this cleared up as soon as possible. I am not prepared to wait even a week.”

    48
    Fyn Alexander
    “Cleared up?” Evangeline asked in a small voice.
    “Yes. I have wasted enough time. The truth is I have been avoiding the entire issue. I want this marriage business out of the way so I can get on with my life. I have more important things to do.”
    The tears that sprang to Evangeline’s eyes were more genuine than she would have liked to admit. It was only later she realized what a brilliant maneuver it was. The day had been long and exhausting.
    She had been frightened out of her wits more than once. Now she found herself in a dark, uninviting castle with a man who, despite his unusual and rather handsome features, terrified her. Had he any natural affection for her or even a true desire to see her happy she could have borne the situation better, but she meant absolutely nothing to him. No more than the means to an end.
    Raven did not appear to notice her eyes welling up and simply carried on talking. “After the wedding I have to go back to London to ensure that my inheritance is in order. While I am gone you will amuse yourself here. It is probably too cold for you wander the gardens and the moors just yet. Spring will arrive in a few more weeks, which I personally hate, but I’ve no doubt you enjoy flowers and such nonsense.”
    It was not until her chest heaved, the tears spilling onto her folded hands that he abruptly stopped speaking. After a moment of silence he asked, “Are you crying?” He sounded vexed at first, and then his voice dropped to a whisper. “Have I made you cry, child?”
    Taking deep breaths to steady herself, Evangeline snatched the damask napkin from her lap and dabbed at her eyes. “No, no, I assure you I merely have something in my eye.”
    “Let me see.” He leaned toward her. Evangeline covered her mouth with her hand and released a loud sob.
    “You are crying,” he accused her. “What is it?” Raven rose and began to pace back and forth in front of the dwindling fire. “I despise tears. What have I done?” he shouted, downing the last of his wine in one swallow and flinging his glass into the hearth with such a