Chapter 10
Ten
Minerva stood abruptly, her fan snapping shut in her hand. “If you will excuse me, Your Grace, I must see to the preparations for the games.”
Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and walked briskly toward the far end of the garden, her back straight as she moved.
Minerva swept away from Evan with purposeful strides, her heart pounding in her chest as she headed toward the gathering of guests mingling by the tea tables.
She could still feel his gaze on her back, but she refused to look.
She had more important matters to attend to—guests to charm, details to oversee, anything to distract herself from him.
As she approached the group of ladies gathered around Lady Radcliffe, Minerva adopted her most gracious smile. “Lady Radcliffe,” she greeted warmly, dipping her head in acknowledgment. “I hope you are enjoying the party.”
Lady Radcliffe, a plump, cheerful woman, beamed at Minerva. “Oh, my dear, it is simply wonderful! The garden is delightful, and the arrangements are as lovely as ever. You have outdone yourself.”
Minerva inclined her head, the praise washing over her like a balm. “I am so pleased to hear that. Please, let me know if there’s anything else I can do to make the afternoon more enjoyable.”
As the ladies continued their conversation, Minerva’s mind drifted ever so slightly.
She kept herself engaged, offering polite nods and well-timed responses, but her thoughts kept returning to the one presence she was stubbornly avoiding.
She risked a quick glance across the garden, catching sight of Evan at the far end of the lawn, still surrounded by admirers—several eager young women and young men aspiring to be like him, all vying for his attention.
She quickly turned her gaze back to Lady Radcliffe before anyone noticed. Stay focused, Minerva, she scolded herself. This is your event. He doesn’t matter.
“Lady Minerva, dear,” Lady Radcliffe's voice brought her back to the present conversation, “the games are a delightful addition to the party. I am sure they’ll be great fun.”
“Yes, they should be,” Minerva replied, her smile fixed in place. “It is always enjoyable to see guests take to the games, especially the croquet tournament. I believe it should start soon.”
She moved gracefully among the guests, attending to their needs with practiced ease.
She poured tea, arranged the plates of sandwiches and pastries, and engaged in light conversation.
Every time she laughed at a comment or responded to a question, she could feel a small part of her calming down.
This was what she was good at—hosting, managing, ensuring every detail was perfect.
Not getting distracted by a man who had no business being here in the first place.
At one point, she caught sight of Chastity on the other side of the garden, laughing with a group of young ladies.
Relief washed over her—at least her sister seemed to be enjoying herself.
It was a small comfort in the midst of her internal turmoil.
Good, she thought. At least one of us is having a pleasant time.
Still, she couldn’t help but feel the constant pressure of Evan’s presence lurking in the background.
As she moved between groups of guests, making sure everyone had what they needed, she could sense him from the corner of her eye, always in the periphery, lingering just out of reach.
He was speaking to a group of ladies now, flashing that charming smile of his, making them laugh with whatever witty remark had undoubtedly just left his lips.
Let him flirt, she told herself firmly. Let him charm everyone in attendance. It doesn’t concern me.
“Lady Minerva, dear,” Lady Ashford called, waving her over to the tea table. “Do tell us where you found these delightful biscuits!”
Minerva hurried over, grateful for the distraction. “They were prepared by Mrs. Hargrave, our cook,” she replied. “She is quite talented, isn’t she?”
“Oh, indeed,” Lady Ashford said, taking another biscuit. “You must give her my compliments.”
“I will, of course,” Minerva assured her. She kept her tone light, her smile warm, but beneath it all, her thoughts were still distracted by the constant awareness of him.
She felt a sudden splash of warmth against her hand. She gasped softly, looking down to see a dark stain spreading across her gloves. One of the guests, a young woman seated nearby, had accidentally knocked her teacup, the contents sloshing over the edge and onto Minerva’s hands.
“Oh, I am terribly sorry, Lady Minerva!” the woman exclaimed, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “I did not mean to—”
“It is quite all right,” Minerva said quickly, her voice calm and controlled, though her annoyance was barely concealed. She glanced down at her now-ruined gloves and forced a reassuring smile. “No harm done.”
The woman looked mortified, but Minerva waved it off, excusing herself from the group with as much grace as she could muster. “If you will excuse me, I will just step away to change these.”
She hurried off to find the servants, hoping her maid would have her spare gloves with her.
However, moving swiftly across the garden path, her heart beat faster than it should have been for such a minor inconvenience.
It is just tea, she told herself. It is nothing.
But the slight disruption in her perfect control of the event had only amplified the restlessness simmering beneath her skin.
And she still refused to acknowledge Evan’s gaze following her as she disappeared into the garden to find her maid, wherever that girl got off to. She closed her eyes, hoping Evan would not follow her again.
But, of course, that hope was in vain.
Footsteps sounded behind her, slow and deliberate. He always seemed to appear exactly when she did not want him to.
“Lady Minerva,” Evan’s voice came, light and teasing, far too close for her liking. “Are you really going to spend the entire party trying to escape me?”
Minerva’s pulse quickened, but she forced herself to maintain her pace. “I am not escaping you, Your Grace,” she said coolly, refusing to turn. “I am attending to my duties as hostess.”
“Is that so?” Evan’s soft laughter drifted toward her, but his steps quickened, matching hers.
Minerva finally stopped, realizing that if she did not confront him, he would continue to follow her. They had just disappeared out of eyesight of the other guests. She turned sharply on her heel to face him, her chin lifted.
“And why, exactly, are you so intent on following me?” she snapped, her eyes flashing. “Do you not have other guests to charm with your insufferable arrogance?”
Instead of backing off, Evan took a step closer, the amusement in his eyes deepening.
“I cannot help but wonder why you are so set on eluding my company.” His voice was smooth, but there was an edge of curiosity in it now, and he looked at her intently. “Is it something I said?”
Minerva's stomach twisted as she stood her ground. He was far too close, and she couldn’t allow him to see how much he unsettled her.
The lavender bushes lining the path released their subtle fragrance into the air, mingling with the distant hum of conversation from the other guests.
Yet, for Minerva, the quiet corner of the garden felt suffocating with Evan’s presence—intense, palpable, and entirely too close.
She forced herself to square her shoulders. “Why did you come, Your Grace?” she asked, her voice tight. “You weren’t invited.”
Evan’s smile widened as he produced a small handwritten note from his coat pocket, a flourish to his movement. “I beg to differ, Lady Minerva. It seems I was invited after all.”
Minerva’s eyes narrowed as she recognized the familiar handwriting on the note. Chastity’s elegant script stared back at her. “Of course,” she muttered, snatching the note from his hand. “Chastity.”
Why did it have to be him? Minerva thought, her grip tightening on the note. Of all the people Chastity could be secretly courting, it had to be Evan. A rake, a disruption, a man who seemed determined to unbalance her at every turn.
“You sound displeased,” Evan noted with a hint of mischief. “Surely you aren’t upset that I came.”
She shot him a glare, folding the note and tucking it away. She took another few steps down the path, looking for her maid for salvation. “Obviously, I did not invite you, and my sister has no business inviting guests without my approval.”
Evan leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. “Ah, but aren’t you glad? The party was so dreadfully dull before I arrived.”
Minerva’s heart pounded as the conversation felt far too personal, but she maintained her composure. “Hardly. Everything was running perfectly well until you decided to disrupt it.”
Evan chuckled, the sound low and amused as he took another step toward her, the shadows of the pergola casting them in near darkness. “Disrupt?” he repeated, his tone thick with amusement. “I thought I was improving it.”
“You would,” Minerva breathed, rolling her eyes.
“You know,” Evan began, his tone lighter, his smirk a touch softer than before, “you’re quite impressive when you’re managing everything so perfectly. It is almost a shame to distract you. Almost.”
She huffed, folding her arms across her chest in a futile attempt to shield herself from the palpable tension growing between them. She tried to return them to the topic at hand. “As much as you protest about not knowing my sister, this situation makes you look like a liar.”
“I still think it was you that invited me,” Evan responded, his smile calm and infuriatingly self-assured, like a cat toying with its prey.
Minerva’s eyes flashed with irritation, her pulse quickening despite herself. “You swore you’d never met my sister before, so why would she invite you?” she snapped, her voice rising with confusion as much as frustration. “Explain that.”
Evan grinned, clearly savoring the moment. “Perhaps after our little encounter, I found a way to introduce myself,” he mused, his voice soft and teasing, as though he enjoyed drawing out her discomfort.
Minerva’s jaw clenched, her irritation bubbling over. The idea of him speaking with Chastity was infuriating. “Why would you do that, Your Grace?” she demanded, her words biting, though the undercurrent of unease in her chest continued to grow.
He tilted his head slightly, his gaze unwavering as it held hers.
“Maybe I wanted to enjoy your company again,” he replied, the teasing tone still there, but something deeper lurking beneath it now, something that set her pulse racing even faster.
“Maybe I would like to show you that you cannot control everything. Or everyone, perhaps.”
Minerva raised an eyebrow, refusing to let him see how much he unsettled her.
“Your Grace,” Minerva said, folding her arms tightly across her chest, “if you have come here simply to provoke me, you have succeeded. Now, if you would kindly return to the rest of the guests—”
“Provoke you?” Evan interrupted, feigning shock. “Is that what you think of me? I came to offer my assistance, perhaps to relieve you of some burden.”
“Relieve me?” Minerva raised a skeptical brow. “You are the burden.”
“Can it not be both?” Evan took another step, the distance between them now almost nonexistent. The murmur of the party had faded entirely, leaving only the soft rustle of leaves and the hum of tension that crackled between them.
Minerva’s pulse quickened, heat rushing to her face.
She glanced around quickly, realizing how far they had wandered from the party.
It was just the two of them now, hidden in the secluded path of the garden, the hedge-lined walkway wrapping around them like a cocoon.
The silence between them stretched, heavy and unbearable.
Finally, she lifted her chin, forcing herself to meet his gaze with a firm stare. “What will it take,” she asked coolly, her voice steady though her heart pounded in her chest, “for you to leave me alone?”
Evan did not immediately respond. He stood still for a moment, his eyes scanning her face with an intensity that made her skin prickle.
His lips curved, that maddening smirk deepening as though he found her challenge endlessly amusing.
He took a slow, measured step closer, his movements deliberate, almost lazy.
“What do I want?” he murmured, as though mulling it over. His eyes flicked down to her lips, lingering for a moment before lifting back to meet her gaze. “I think,” he said, his voice dropping lower, “I want a kiss.”
“A kiss?” Minerva’s voice was barely more than a whisper, yet it carried the full weight of her indignation. “How utterly absurd.”
“Not absurd,” Evan countered, his tone maddeningly calm. “Bold, perhaps. But I have always believed boldness has its merits.”
The words sent a shockwave through Minerva. A kiss? No. Absolutely not. Her heart raced, the heat in her cheeks rising faster than she could control. She could feel her palms going cold, despite the warmth of the afternoon, but she refused to acknowledge the impact of his request.
Minerva was acutely aware of the heat radiating from him, the subtle scent of cedar and something distinctly him. It was maddening how his presence seemed to fill every corner of her thoughts, even as she tried to focus on anything else.
Minerva lifted her chin higher, forcing steel into her spine. She could not believe that he would dare kiss her, not there in the gardens, mere steps from so many people. She arched her eyebrow daringly.
Perhaps, if he thinks he has won, then he will let me be.
“Fine,” she snapped, her tone sharp with defiance. “Then get it over with.”