Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Evening had long fallen across the majesty of the Ashcroft estate, most of the guests already in their beds after a hearty dinner and some entertainment in the drawing room.
It was the time of night that Hugo liked the best at these house parties, when he and his closest friends were left alone to enjoy the peace, sharing the good port and brandy while everyone else slept.
The group of five—Hugo, Dominic, Frances, Laurence, and Joan—were gathered in the Orangery that still carried some of the warmth of the day. Fires flickered outside on the lawn, the doors open to let in the fragrant night air, the world entirely calm despite the chaos within Hugo’s mind.
“How was your walk today?” Joan asked, wrapped in a woolen blanket. “I meant to ask earlier.”
Frances nodded. “I did not hear you return.”
“It was… pleasant,” Hugo replied, a slight catch in his throat.
He had not mentioned the aftermath to anyone, as much for his own sake as for Evelyn’s.
Laurence would have smacked him soundly if he learned that he had pulled Evelyn into his private study to speak to her alone.
Indeed, Laurence would certainly have called Hugo a hypocrite, considering what had happened to Octavia two years ago.
“What walk was this?” Laurence asked, while Dominic seemed content to stay in silence, holding Frances to him, his chin resting on top of her head.
“Hugo walked with Miss Parsons this afternoon,” Joan replied with a fond smile at her husband. “I told you at dinner.”
Laurence pulled an apologetic face. “I confess, it slipped my mind. Is this the lady who will become the Duchess of Ravenvale, then?”
“Is it the same lady who won the auction?” Dominic asked, suddenly interested.
He, most of all, had been changed by marriage.
There had been a time, not so very long ago, when no one would have believed it if Dominic had said he was considering marriage again.
Then, Frances had appeared, knocking on his door to ask for the position as his daughter’s society tutor, and the impossible had become possible.
“It is, love,” Frances replied, as Hugo observed his friends and their wives, who had also become his friends.
They were the sole reason that he had decided to relent on the idea of matrimony, though he was not relenting fast enough for his mother’s liking.
He, too, had assumed that he would either never marry or that it would be some years before he finally settled down.
Then, he had seen how Joan and Frances had transformed his friends, softening them, improving them, making them so happy that it was impossible not to be envious.
But is Selina that person for me?
He had hoped for some clarity after the walk in the woods, but pulling Evelyn to one side had muddled things.
Instead of reminding himself what he was supposed to do to garner Selina’s affection, his mind kept repeating the earnest list that Evelyn had confessed to.
A list that really did seem so very simple.
When he thought of the things that other ladies demanded from a match, it was the barest minimum in comparison, and yet she was not married.
“I am still getting acquainted with her,” Hugo said, as he sipped the sweet, heady port. “We have two outings left of our five, so I am sure I will know more about her in due course.”
“Will she be attending the hunt the day after tomorrow?” Laurence asked.
Hugo pulled a face. “She might, but I shall not be there.”
He had a strong aversion to hunting, feeling rather sorry for the poor foxes and creatures who were chased for miles and miles.
He had a tolerance for shooting game birds, for that at least resulted in something to eat, but he had never thought it very fair to pursue animals while on horseback with a pack of hounds leading the way.
“Do you think Lady Evelyn might join us?” Frances asked with a sly quirk to her smile.
Hugo sniffed. “I do not know. You would have to ask her.” He paused. “Although I hear she is a rather good shot.”
“It will be wonderful!” Selina urged, riding out of the stable yard with Evelyn. “If I can manage it on a horse, you can manage it.”
Evelyn swayed to the motion of the docile mare she had been given, her brow furrowed as she noted the youthful demeanor of the mount that Selina had insisted on. The gelding’s ears flicked back and forth, snorting eagerly, tossing his head as Selina tried her best to control him.
“You have to be gentler than that,” Evelyn said, grimacing. “He has been bred for hunting. All you really need to do is hold on, and he will do the rest of the work for you.”
Her thoughts raced with every possible catastrophe: Selina being thrown from the saddle; Selina getting struck in the face by a low-hanging branch; Selina holding on for dear life as the gelding bolted; Selina perhaps hurting the horse for not doing as it was commanded, even though the commands were clumsy at best, contradictory at worst.
For someone who relished the outdoors so much, Evelyn’s friend really was a poor rider.
“My father did not earn his fortune until I was thirteen or so, so I never had the opportunity to ride much when I was younger. We did not have the money for it,” Selina had explained once. “And he had no inclination to teach me, so I never properly learned.”
“Are you sure about this?” Evelyn’s heart lurched with every tug Selina made on the reins and every subtle sign of the gelding’s displeasure.
Selina flashed a wild look back at her. “I would not miss it.”
With a weary sigh, Evelyn gently squeezed her thighs and clicked her tongue, urging her mare to follow the lively gelding and his inept rider toward the rest of the hunting party.
A large group were already waiting on the lawns just beyond the stables, a mixture of ladies and gentlemen.
Luke and Matthew were among them, as was Hugo, though he did not seem at all pleased to be there.
He had a face like thunder, his posture slumped, his riding crop tucked into the lapel of his riding jacket.
Walking the mare forward, Evelyn found herself on the periphery of the group, anxiously watching Selina and her mount. By chance, it brought her closer to Hugo, who appeared to be the source of much amusement for the Duke of Ashcroft and the Duke of Alderwick.
“If you are going to be sore about it, then do not come with us,” the Duke of Alderwick said with a smirk. “No one is forcing you.”
The Duke of Ashcroft nodded. “You will scare the foxes away with a face like that.”
“Well, I am here, and the more you irritate me, the louder I shall shout when the hunt begins, to give the foxes a fighting chance,” Hugo retorted, rolling his eyes.
Frowning, Evelyn observed Hugo out of the corner of her eye, surprised that he did not appear to be a supporter of hunting.
She was under the assumption that every gentleman relished the sport, though she found it rather ghoulish and unkind.
Indeed, she had not taught herself how to shoot so that she could kill things; she had taught herself, simply to know how.
“Ah, they found a horse suitable for you?” Matthew’s voice grated on her as he drew his chestnut gelding alongside her mare. “I was waiting for you to come out on a pony.”
She took a calming breath. “I ride just as well as you, brother.”
“Did you hear that?” Matthew called over to Luke, who sat astride a majestic black horse. “Our sister thinks she rides as well as I do!”
The shout drew the attention of the rest of the group, and Evelyn shrank into herself, wishing there were moments where she could actually become invisible.
She had enough to worry about with Selina; she did not need everyone staring at her, wondering if she was capable of riding a horse or if she would just cause trouble on the hunt.
“She is right,” Luke said, rather generously. “I have seen her charge across the lawns at Townshend, faster than you would ever dare. Of course, she should not have been doing that, but it does not alter the facts.”
Evelyn gaped at her eldest brother. She had thought everyone was away from the manor when she had made that charge across the lawns, seeking the feeling of liberty, of flying, of defiance, that it granted her. She had not known that Luke saw.
Why did you not tell Father?
Matthew grumbled under his breath. “Yes, well, there is a difference between racing across open land and navigating woodland and uneven terrain.” There was a slight pout to his words.
“But, as you seem to think she is such a talented rider, you can be the one to ride with her while I charge on ahead.”
Luke gave his brother a hard stare. “You will do no such thing.”
“I am to stay back?” Matthew narrowed his eyes right back.
“You are the younger brother. It is about time you did your duty of watching over our sister,” Luke replied, as the rest of the party tried to pretend that they were not listening to the dispute.
Matthew huffed out a sigh. “Very well.”
At that moment, Evelyn felt a faint prickle across her skin and knew, even without looking, that Hugo was watching her. She swallowed and turned her attention toward Selina, who seemed slightly more comfortable in the saddle.
“I really think we should stay behind,” she said to her friend. “It is probably not safe for us to ride out with the gentlemen.”
Selina scoffed. “Nonsense. We will be fine. Besides, there are other ladies joining in, and if it is good enough for a duchess, then it is good enough for me.”
“Yes, but the duchesses are clearly good at riding,” Evelyn pointed out, trying to keep her voice down. She did not want to embarrass Selina, she just did not want her friend to come to any serious harm.
A hard edge tensed Selina’s face. “I am a perfectly capable rider.”
“I am not saying you are not but, as my brother just said, it will be difficult terrain and—”