Chapter 3 #2
“I had to fabricate a bee just to liberate her,” Evelyn said, covering her mouth to hide a laugh at the memory. “It was the summer, you see, and the French doors were open. There was no bee, of course, but my friend is simply too polite to have excused herself, so I assisted her.”
Hugo raised an eyebrow. “Miss Parsons is known for her politeness?”
“I am, actually,” Selina replied, her attention turned back toward the crowd, watching as the fine ladies and gentlemen took their seats in the majestic auditorium.
“What has attracted your eye?” he asked her, leaning in slightly. “Is it scandal? A friend? I daresay there is no place better for spotting fresh gossip that has not yet reached society than from up here.”
Selina gave a shrug. “I do not yet know what I am looking for.”
“I would not have thought a duke would concern himself with gossip,” Evelyn said amiably. “My friend relishes the scandal sheets. Do you not, Selina?”
“What else is there to enjoy with one’s breakfast?” Hugo said with a grin.
Evelyn chuckled. “A feast for the mind with one’s eggs and toast.”
“Yes, exactly.” Hugo smiled stiffly at her. “Although, I must say, I have become less fond of the scandal sheets in recent years. They are much too severe on society’s young ladies. There used to be some nuance, some mystery, but no longer.”
Hoping that Selina might be swayed by that at least, Evelyn looked to her friend, but Selina continued to pay no attention to Hugo whatsoever.
“I see you are wearing those pretty roses again,” he said, certainly determined. “They do look so very real. I am almost tempted to lean in, to see if they carry that beautiful aroma of summer gardens.”
Selina leaned away, as a look of frustration passed across Hugo’s face.
“Are you fond of the outdoors, Your Grace?” Evelyn leaped back in.
“I am,” he replied, a note cooler than before. “There is nothing I love so much as a long ride in the countryside. Ravenvale has the most exceptional forests and grounds; I could spend all day out there, so long as I had a hearty picnic packed.”
Evelyn chuckled. “A picnic is an under-appreciated outdoors pastime.”
“I quite agree.” Hugo sat back in his chair, with the posture of a man who was close to giving up his efforts.
“Do you ride often, then?” Evelyn persevered.
“Whenever I can,” he replied.
“Miss Parsons favors the outdoors, though she does not favor horses,” Evelyn said, silently urging Selina to take over.
It was becoming clear from Hugo’s expression that he was not altogether pleased by Evelyn’s interjections.
She knew the look on his face very well, for she saw it frequently enough on her father and brothers’ faces: she was being burdensome.
She was speaking to someone who did not want to hear what she had to say, but she could not just let him and Selina sit there in awkward silence.
“I think I shall powder my nose before the opera begins,” Selina said abruptly, rising to her feet.
Hugo stepped out of her path, his frown deepening as she breezed by him and headed out of the private box. Perhaps, he wondered if she would bother to come back, though Evelyn knew that her friend would. Selina might not have wanted to be here with Hugo, but she would not abandon Evelyn.
And I cannot let this potential courtship fail…
In a low voice, not much caring if he wanted to listen to her or not, Evelyn said, “You need to change your approach, Your Grace. You shall never succeed with Miss Parsons if you behave as you are.”
Hugo stared at her in shock. “I beg your pardon?”
“Listen to me very carefully,” she urged, splitting her attention between him and the door of the private box. “You are doing this all wrong.”
“Pardon?” he replied curtly.
“Selina is not an ordinary lady. You cannot use your usual method of rehearsed compliments and false charm with her, or she will continue to ignore you. You have to be interesting, Your Grace, not… whatever you have been doing so far,” she explained, as his eyes continued to widen.
“What right do you have to—” he tried to say, but Evelyn was already jumping in. This all needed to be said before Selina got back, or the duke would never stand a chance of gaining her favor.
“She has a… preferred kind of gentleman, one who is more curt and mysterious, who does not pander to her, who does not act as every other gentleman acts toward her. Do not be boring, Your Grace. She loathes boring.”
“I do not see how this is any of your b—”
Evelyn put up a hand to silence him as she rattled on, “She is the diamond of the Season, though she is not a debutante. She is adored by all, and all wish to be adored by her. She receives a thousand of the same compliments and flirtations at every ball and party she attends. She is not going to give her attention to a gentleman who treats her the same as everyone else. She is bored easily. As I said, she favors the outdoors but is afraid of horses, she relishes music, the opera, and poetry. She has a romantic heart, but what she favors most of all is a thrilling mystery, twists and turns that she does not see coming. So if you want her affection, you need to stop flirting so tediously and so openly. Be a mystery she wishes to unravel instead of charmingly predictable.”
Judging by the way Hugo was staring at Evelyn with such abject horror, anyone would have thought that she had cursed his lineage and insulted his entire family.
But she did not have time to be delicate.
Selina could return from the powder room at any moment, and Evelyn was not prepared to endure several hours of agonizing silence between her friend and the duke.
Nor was she prepared to endure four more outings of the same nature, not when she had the power and the advice to intervene.
“With all due respect,” he replied tersely, “I do not require your help to charm a lady. I am rather experienced in that art.”
“Maybe you think so, but you have no experience of Selina,” Evelyn said firmly.
“She is not like the ladies who swoon at the merest hint of your presence. As you said yourself, why pick a daisy when there might be a rare bloom waiting where few have dared to tread before. I am teaching you the way to a rare bloom, but if you do not listen, you will fail.”
He raised an eyebrow at her, his lip slightly curled in disapproval. “How bold you are, Miss… I cannot remember your name.”
“Lady Evelyn Bartlett.” She puffed out a breath. “And I must be bold, for I want my friend to make an excellent match. She deserves it. So stop being so obvious and start making her curious. All of your well-practiced and somewhat plain flirtations are no good here.”
Hugo had never been so insulted in all of his life. True, he was accustomed to flirting easily and having those flirtations received well and even returned, but he did not need some… woman teaching him how to win someone’s favor.
Who on earth does she think she is?
She had been so quiet and unassuming until they entered the private box, but now he reasoned he was seeing the true face of this strange creature. Why, she was almost as brazen as some of the mothers who had tried to throw their daughters into his path. More brazen, perhaps.
“And for goodness’ sake, do not tell her that you wish to sniff the roses in her hair,” Lady Evelyn added, bringing a cough of disbelief to his throat.
He was about to tell her that he had had quite enough of her ‘advice’ and that it might be best if she left, when Selina returned. The beautiful, albeit dismissive, woman did not even offer a greeting as she slipped past him and took her seat once more.
Yet, he found he did not care, for he was still too stunned by the actions of Lady Evelyn to pay a single thought to Selina’s behavior.
Indeed, he could not help but feel as if he was the one caught in a mystery, unable to unravel the twists and turns that had led him to the opera tonight, with one woman who had bid on him but did not seem to want anything to do with him, and one woman who seemed rather too invested in the conclusion.
And as the opera began, he found himself looking back more than he glanced at Miss Parsons, startled each time to find Lady Evelyn staring right at him with steely expectation.