Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
As the music faded to a close, Hugo gave a quick bow to Selina, hurrying her back to the care of her chaperone before he strode directly over to the garden entrance.
He did not want to seem like a curmudgeon by beginning with a scolding, but Octavia really was not supposed to be outside where all the pollen would make her sneeze and cause her eyes to stream.
Although he was more bewildered by the fact that his sister and Evelyn seemed to be having such a joyful time together.
“You have found me!” Octavia cheered, swallowing a mouthful of that same pinkish ice. “Now, I know you are going to want to chide me, but please do not do so until I have introduced you to my new friend.”
Hugo stared at Evelyn, who looked back with a stiff wariness, her freckle-dusted cheeks turning as pink as the ice that she was stirring around in the glass.
“This is Lady Evelyn Bartlett,” Octavia said proudly, oblivious to any awkwardness. “Evelyn, this is my brother Hugo, the Duke of Ravenvale. But do not feel like you need to call him ‘Your Grace'. I give you permission to be informal, now that we are friends.”
Evelyn’s eyes widened ever so slightly, her mouth parting. “This is your brother?”
“Of course.” Octavia grinned as she caught hold of Hugo’s arm. “Were you dancing, Hugo? Did we miss it? He is an excellent dancer, Evelyn.”
Hugo cleared his throat and hoped Evelyn could not see the same surprise reflected upon his face. “I just finished a dance with Miss Parsons.”
“Miss Parsons?” Octavia pulled a face. “I thought you had no interest in her?”
Pulling at his collar, which suddenly seemed too tight, Hugo put on a smile. “I am still getting to know her, Octavia. She is a dear friend of Evelyn here, in fact.”
“She is?” Octavia raised her eyebrows. “I had no notion. You must tell me everything about her, Evelyn, so I may decide if she is a suitable match for my brother.”
Evelyn dipped her head. “I would be happy to.”
“How is it that the two of you have become acquainted?” Hugo asked abruptly, for he could not have been dancing for more than five minutes. Ten, if he included the wait before the dance had begun.
Still, that was surely not enough time for Evelyn and his sister to become such firm friends, was it?
“Ah, well, I was creeping out into the gardens,” Octavia explained in a lively fashion, “while poor Evelyn was in quite the rush to get into the manor. She did not see me, for I had positioned myself in a most inconvenient spot, and she knocked into me. But she also caught me before I could fall, saving me from what would surely have been a terrible injury.”
“It is… fortunate she was quick enough to help you,” Hugo said tightly.
“Fortunate indeed.” Octavia nodded. “But, as it was my fault, and as she was so swift in saving me, I think you ought to repay her kindness to your dear sister by asking her to dance.”
If Hugo had been eating one of those ices, he would have choked on it. Judging by the size of Evelyn’s eyes, she too had not been expecting Octavia to suggest such a thing.
“Oh, there really is no need for—” she tried to say, but Hugo jumped in ahead of her.
“If you have a place upon your dance card, I would be glad to dance with you.” He flashed her one of his most winning smiles, seeing an opportunity before him.
He could have spent an hour in Selina’s company asking to learn more about Evelyn and her apparently exhaustive list of attributes, but why do that when he could get the information directly from Evelyn?
It was the swiftest way to discover if Selina had been playing silly games or not and, besides, Evelyn had put a smile on Octavia’s face.
That was worth far more than any rescue from a minor fall.
“What I mean to say is,” he continued in a soft voice, “would you do me the honor of dancing the next set with me, Lady Evelyn? I almost forgot my manners there for a moment.”
Evelyn stared at him, an echo of the panic that had seized her in the park, a muscle flickering in her jaw as if her teeth were clenched. He had surprised her; that was a promising start.
“Say that you will, Evelyn,” Octavia urged.
Evelyn’s throat bobbed and her gaze lowered, but she did not reach for the dance card on her wrist. Instead, she gave a small nod of the head… and the hue of her cheeks became a darker shade of pink.
“Yes,” she mumbled. “Yes, why not?”
It was not the enthusiasm that Hugo might have been accustomed to, but then she was not like the ladies he usually encountered. Perhaps that would at least give the evening some variety.
He extended a hand to her. “Come with me, Lady Evelyn.”
For a moment, she hesitated, and he wondered if she had the nerve to reject his offer and run from him. Would he be met with the meek and fearful Lady Evelyn or the determined, fierce version?
With a quiet cough as if she had something in her throat, she placed her hand in his…
and a funny shiver tingled up from the spot where her cool glove met his skin, prickling all the way up his forearm.
A slow breath filled his lungs as he remembered how wild she had been, grasping at him, and how he had not hesitated to hold her close to him.
The memory moved through his veins like warmed honey, until he heard the musicians begin to fade toward the close of the last song.
Putting on a smile, he snapped out of his thoughts and led Evelyn toward the somewhat unorthodox dance floor. There were whispers as they approached the immediate periphery, some ladies murmuring to one another behind their fans, their eyes narrowing at the sight of Evelyn at Hugo’s side.
Once again, that strange jolt of protective impulse caught him unawares, but he could not hold her close enough to block out the gossip of bored and judgmental guests.
He could do nothing at all against whispers.
So he just ignored them and concentrated on the silky sensation of her gloved hand resting on top of his bare skin.
Soon enough, the previous couples were leaving the dance floor, giving up the space for new couples to take their place.
There was a suitable number of dancers, though it was still early in the party’s proceedings, and as Evelyn withdrew her hand so she could join the line of ladies, Hugo had to swallow the sudden desire to reach for her, to take her hand in his again.
What is the matter with you? He shook the feeling off, blaming the lack of sleep that had overwhelmed him over the past few days, after the incident in the park.
The terrified look on Evelyn’s face had continued to haunt him, but he hoped that this dance might temper the memory, softening it so he could forget all about the visceral nature of her fear.
Someone called for a country dance, and the festivities began.
“Your sister was not actually in any danger,” Evelyn said immediately, as they hopped forward together, meeting in the center. “I was not looking where I was going.”
He smiled. “I did not say anything.”
“No, but… I thought you should know,” she retorted, gracefully leaping from side to side.
She was more elegant than he had expected, though perhaps that was another of the mysterious attributes that Selina had spoken of.
Indeed, Evelyn did not merely dance the steps, but seemed to feel them throughout her entire being, her arms adding flourishes, her toes perfectly pointed, her neck long and poised, her chin tilted up in a manner that compelled Hugo to touch.
He did not, of course, but he could not help admiring the slender curve of that neck. She was not particularly tall, but it rather made her appear taller, adding to the flowing movement of her arms and the innate grace that she possessed.
“I noticed you did not pause to speak to Miss Parsons after you finished dancing with her,” Evelyn said, as the dance brought them back together to skip in merry circles.
“Does this mean you are finally heeding my advice? I cannot be certain, for the very fact that you asked her to dance suggests you are ignoring what I said.”
His expression hardened, a protest teetering on the tip of his tongue.
Was it just him that had the ability to break through the polite shell of this infuriating woman, bringing out the less polite, infinitely discourteous wildling beneath?
He had not seen her behave this way with Octavia, where it might have made more sense.
Friends could speak to one another however they pleased, but he and Evelyn were not friends.
I cannot tolerate this again.
He was about to tell her so, when a thought popped into his head. The only way to get her to stop giving him advice on how to woo a woman was to prove that he needed no help whatsoever.
“Did you learn to dance from your books, or did you have a tutor?” he said in a silky voice that rarely failed to get fans fluttering.
Evelyn blinked, though she did not miss a step. “My books? Whatever do you mean?”
“I have been uncovering the mysteries of Lady Evelyn Bartlett,” he replied, as he turned into a spin and came back to face her.
“I hear you are a most diligent scholar, but I cannot believe that you have learned how to dance so well from the pages of a book. Rather, you must have practiced for hours upon hours, and I cannot help but imagine it. How bereft you must have been without a partner to practice with.”
She swept into a turn, her head whipping around so she would not lose sight of him, like she feared he might say something while she was not looking.
“I… had a tutor,” she fumbled to reply. “Briefly.”
As they surged toward each other, and crossed their arms to perform a promenade, his hands holding tightly to hers, he leaned in close to her ear and whispered, “Am I your first?”
“Pardon?” she croaked.
“Am I your first partner?” he replied, rather pleased with the reaction.
Her brow furrowed into a scowl. “No, of course you are not. I have been out in society for three years.”
“But I have never seen you before,” he said. “So I have no choice but to wonder where you have been hiding for all this time. I know without doubt that I would have remembered you if I had seen you standing at a ball. Indeed, we would have danced, maybe something slower than this. A waltz, even.”
At his side, her breathing quickened, her face turning very red indeed as they came to the end of the promenade. He had timed it perfectly, leaving her suitably bewildered as they broke contact and danced independently back down the lines of ladies and gentlemen to their former position.
“I have… never danced a waltz,” she remarked as they moved forward again, linking arms so they could turn three circles. “I know it is becoming more acceptable, but my father would never permit it. Nor my brothers.”
“They were not at my cousin’s ball with you,” Hugo pointed out. He did not know it for certain, but there certainly had not been any gentlemen nearby when the auction had been won. As such, it was more of an educated guess.
“Who is your cousin?”
“The Duke of Alderwick.” He flashed a grin at her.
“But you knew that already. As your friend has told me, and as you more or less told me yourself, you glean your wealth of information from the scandal sheets and from your books. I will not believe you did not know me or my association to my cousin if you say otherwise.”
They switched arms to turn three more circles, and as they did, Hugo could almost feel the irritation radiating from his dance partner.
“I meant to tell you at the opera,” he continued, “but that gown you wore was a thing of beauty. It became you so very, very well.”
She lost her footing for a moment, but he held her steady.
“What color was it?” she challenged, her eyes narrowed, as they twirled back into the center of the dance floor, facing one another.
“Midnight blue,” he replied, delighting in the slight widening of her eyes.
Clearly, she had not expected him to actually know, but he was a lot more observant than she thought. He might not have noticed her immediately, that much was true, but he had noticed her since.
“You had little white flowers in your hair,” he added as they pressed palms and moved together for the final part of the dance.
“I do not know if they were real or not, and I dare not ask since you so firmly told me I should not, but I could not help thinking that a stray petal came loose. I am almost certain it did, and that it landed right… here.”
His fingertips brushed the curve of her neck for the briefest of moments, as he passed behind her in a horseshoe shape before coming back to stand in front of her, every step, every part of his idea perfectly timed to the dance.
She seemed frozen, her lips parted and her eyes shining, the raspberry color of her cheeks now spreading to the rest of her face. He could not be completely sure, but he thought he saw a faint shiver run through her as her hand came up to touch the spot that he had brushed.
He smiled at her as the music came to an end, his chest puffing with a sensation of strange satisfaction.
If you think me so inept in the art of flirtation, Lady Evelyn, then why on earth are you blushing so furiously?
He would have asked her, but he needed to hold some things back in case she required a second lesson in how not to insult him.
“Thank you for the dance, dear Evelyn,” he whispered instead, as he took her by the hand and led her back to where Selina and her chaperone stood agape.