Chapter 2 #2
“I am sorry to hear that,” Hugo said amiably. “I suppose that is the disadvantage of having such an auction as this near to the end of the dancing. Although I cannot say that I saw you upon the dance floor, Miss Parsons. If I had, I would surely have remembered you.”
Fighting the urge to roll her eyes, Evelyn stared down at her reticule instead, pretending there was a loose bead.
Meanwhile, Selina leveled a cold stare at him. “You are right, Your Grace, I have not danced tonight. I hurt my ankle during a walk yesterday.”
“I am even sorrier to hear that,” Hugo said. “If I can be of any assistance, do let me know. I have an excellent physician who could tend to you, should you need it.”
“That will not be necessary,” Selina insisted.
“Nevertheless, I suggest we do not promenade on our first outing,” he said, that lovely, warm smile refusing to leave his face no matter how icily Selena stared at him or spoke to him.
“Do you favor the opera, Miss Parsons? At least there, we may sit, and your ankle will not trouble you. And if the opera is particularly bad, you may even get some rest.”
A faint smile quirked Evelyn’s lips, while Selina offered no sign of amusement at all. Instead, she crossed her arms over her chest, unleashed a weary sigh and, with a resigned glance at Evelyn, gave her answer.
“The opera would be… pleasant, thank you.”
Hugo dipped his head. “Excellent. Shall we say the day after tomorrow? I shall send a carriage for you.”
“Very well,” Selina replied tightly.
“I look forward to it, Miss Parsons.”
It was only at that moment that the duke glanced at Evelyn, seeming to notice her for the first time, despite the fact that she had introduced Selina to him. A proper observation instead of his eyes merely skimming over her to get to the beauty of her friend.
“Ladies,” he said, with a bob of his head to them both.
“Your Grace,” Evelyn replied, dipping into a brief curtsy, a strange warmth rushing into her face.
When she raised her head again, he was gone, cutting a striking figure on his way back through the crowd.
“You see, he is very pleasant,” Evelyn said, nudging Selina gently in the arm.
“He is more likely to be a rake than my Anthony,” Selina replied in a quiet, frustrated voice, though her expression softened as she looked at Evelyn.
“I will be courteous, I will use the opportunity, and perhaps I shall enjoy myself, but you really should not have gone to the trouble. I am just sorry that it will be a waste of your money.”
Evelyn laughed tightly. “I have nothing else to spend it on. Why should I not use it to help a friend?”
“Because, my dearest Evie, I do not need help,” Selina replied with a sigh.
“I know you do not approve of Sir Anthony and you probably never will, but when he makes me an offer of marriage and proves his love, you shall see that I was right about him. Until then… I will play my part in this charade, but I shall not do it alone. You are coming to the opera with me.”
Evelyn blinked. “I am? But… the invitation is for you. I do not know if—”
“Either you come with me, or I shall not go,” Selina interrupted, her tone taking on the occasionally petulant texture that she used when she wished to get her way. “Now, I should like some refreshment. Come along.”
She took hold of Evelyn’s arm and tugged her through the crowd, as far from the stage that Hugo had returned to as possible.
Evelyn stifled a yawn as she stepped into the stilted silence of her family’s Mayfair townhouse with her chaperone, who took her shawl from her.
“Thank you, Margery,” Evelyn said with a tired smile.
The older woman smiled in return. “It was an… interesting evening.” She paused. “I assume we’re not going to say anything about your large investment?”
“If possible, no,” Evelyn replied, wincing.
Her father would unleash the full fury of his temper if he learned what she had done, even though he had never cared what she did with her pin money before.
He left a sum for her each month for ‘female fripperies,’ far more than she could ever hope to spend, for he did not know how much he was supposed to give her and had never thought to ask.
Still, he would be mad if he found out it was all gone, not spent on dresses or hats and improving her prospects but spent on someone else’s societal success entirely.
Margery, who also happened to be the housekeeper, tapped her nose in a conspiratorial fashion. “Your secret is safe with me, Lady Evelyn.”
“Thank you,” Evelyn whispered, a weight easing from her shoulders.
“Although, if I may,” Margery said quietly, “you’d have been better served bidding for yourself.”
Evelyn was about to answer that even paying for the attention of a gentleman would have done her no good, when her father’s voice intruded, sending a shiver down her spine.
“Evelyn, is that you?” His scowling face appeared out of his study door, at the end of the hallway.
“It is, Father,” Evelyn replied, praying that he had not overheard anything.
Josiah Bartlett, Earl of Townshend, surveyed his daughter with disappointed eyes. “Where have you been until this hour?”
“A ball, Father.”
Of course, he would not remember such a thing. He never remembered, for that would have required him to pay attention to his daughter.
“This is the first that I am hearing of it,” her father said, as he removed his round spectacles and wiped them on the corner of his waistcoat.
Footsteps sounded on the landing, heralding the appearance of her eldest brother, Luke. “She told us yesterday, Father.”
“Well, she must have mentioned it quietly,” her father retorted, though he would not argue with Luke. His eldest son was his pride while his second son, Matthew, was his joy.
For Evelyn, however, Luke was the only one who was not constantly unkind. Often stern, yes, and just as dismissive as their father, but he at least made her feel like she was not completely invisible.
“Go on to bed, Evelyn,” Luke instructed, as if he were the patriarch.
Evelyn bowed her head politely. “Yes, brother.”
With a discreet glance at Margery, and a silent prayer that what she had done would never reach the ears of her father or brothers, Evelyn headed up the stairs without complaint.
Tomorrow, she had a considerable sum to send to the London home of the Duke and Duchess of Alderwick.