Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“Ihave never been to Oxford before,” Evelyn said, her nose pressed almost flat to the carriage window.
“I have heard such wondrous things about it, though. The spires and domes. The knowledge that radiates from its very center. The history, the majesty, the ideas, the theories that have shaped and continue to shape our world.”
From across the squabs, Octavia giggled. “We are going to Oxford to seek out dresses and bonnets, dear Evelyn. We shall not be visiting the university.”
“No, I know that, but… a lady can dream of the libraries, can she not?” Evelyn replied with a shy grin, for books had always been her salvation, her greatest companions, and, unlike people, she had never met a library she did not like.
“You cannot read a husband into existence,” Selina cut in, a darkness around her eyes, a pallor to her usually rosy complexion.
At breakfast, Evelyn had asked her best friend if something was the matter, but Selina had insisted that it was merely the guest chamber she had been placed in.
“It is so dusty, and there are birds roosting somewhere nearby that did not cease their cooing until almost dawn, when the rest of the birds saw fit to start singing,” she had said, rather grumpily.
Evelyn suspected there was more to the grouchy demeanor, the short temper, and the dark crescents beneath Selina’s eyes, but she did not want to try her friend’s patience. Instead, she was content to wait until Selina wished to reveal the trouble herself, in her own time.
“I did not say you could,” Evelyn said, a little bit stung.
Selina stifled a yawn. “Then again, I suppose you do not have to worry about that, now that you have the baron. Do you know when the wedding will be? I shall have to buy a new bonnet for the occasion. Perhaps I shall do so today.”
A sick feeling weighed heavy in Evelyn’s stomach, a nausea that rose and fell each time she was reminded of her fate.
There had been no letter from her father to say that the engagement was official, and the baron himself had pretty much avoided her at every opportunity, but it did feel like a certainty.
“I have seen no announcement,” Octavia chimed in, her blue eyes awash with sympathy. “It is not real until there is an announcement.”
Evelyn could have hugged Octavia for that, even if it was a paltry balm slicked upon a devastating wound.
Her father was not someone who changed his mind often, and would definitely not change his mind for Evelyn’s sake.
It likely could not be avoided, this marriage to the baron, but as long as there was a morsel of hope, Evelyn meant to cling to it.
“There is no announcement between me and the Duke of Ravenvale,” Selina said, “but everyone is talking about what a handsome pair we would be if we were to marry.”
“A handsome pairing is not always a wise one,” Octavia said boldly.
Selina frowned, her nose twitching in distaste. “Well, we shall see how I fare after today. I believe your brother means to take me for tea. It shall be a good opportunity to talk to him properly, without everyone else causing distractions.”
Evelyn hoped that her friend was not talking about her, though Selina had been curt with her over the past two days, since the evening in the drawing room where Octavia had ‘interrupted’ the conversation.
In truth, Evelyn could not understand the animosity that Selina seemed to have toward Octavia.
It continued to feel eminently foolish for Selina to behave so coldly toward Hugo’s sister, and Evelyn had considered pointing it out to her friend, but there had not yet been a chance to do so, for Octavia had decided to be wherever Evelyn was, the two of them inseparable, much to Selina’s obvious disgruntlement.
Evelyn, however, did not mind it at all; rather, she welcomed the new friendship most fervently.
“I do not need you to accompany me this time,” Selina added, with a pointed look at Evelyn.
“Of course,” Evelyn replied, wondering what on earth she had done to annoy her friend.
Was it the fact that Hugo had been kind to her?
Was it that a situation had arisen where they had had to be close to one another?
Did Selina feel threatened, now that her own feelings toward Hugo had shifted?
Or was it purely that Evelyn had found herself another friend that Selina did not like?
It was impossible to gauge, and Selina did not appear to be willing to explain.
“If I had spent time with him alone from the beginning, perhaps we would have formed a closer attachment with him by now,” Selina mumbled, apparently more to herself than to the other two women in the carriage. A regret, maybe.
I did try, Evelyn wanted to say, but she held her tongue.
The remark would not be welcome, not with Selina in one of her darker moods.
Evelyn had witnessed them only a handful of times since their friendship had begun, but she had learned that it was better to ride it out than try to lift Selina’s spirits before she was ready to be cheery again.
“Well, dear Evelyn,” Octavia said, her head turned toward the opposite window, “there are your spires and domes. The center of our country’s wisdom and progression… unless you happen to be a scholar at the University of Cambridge.”
Evelyn could not help but chuckle, for Luke had attended the University of Oxford, while Matthew had attended the University of Cambridge, and they still fought over which was superior.
Meanwhile, she would have relished the chance to be able to attend either, to study and read at her leisure, able to unlock new worlds of wisdom and education.
“Goodness…” Evelyn gasped as the beauty of Oxford came into view, a sprawling labyrinth of sandstone, exquisite spires reaching heavenward, domes winking in the afternoon sunlight, while scholars and professors in dark cloaks wandered by.
She nearly teared up, seeing all of that resplendent architecture.
Facts and tidbits flooded her mind, though she did not regale her friends with everything she knew of the architects and civil engineers and laborers who had brought all of this into being.
Nor did she tell them the history of the various colleges, or that it would not exist at all in its current glory and reverence if it were not for King Henry II, who had banned English scholars from attending university in Paris.
What do I need dresses and bonnets for, when I can relish in all of this beauty instead?
Through a maze of cobbled streets, each as quaint and beautiful as the next, the carriage finally came to a standstill on a main thoroughfare. The colorful exterior of many shops brightened the street, signs swinging in the light breeze to draw customers in.
“I expect I shall have to meet you both later,” Selina said, as the footman helped her down onto the pavement. “His Grace will undoubtedly wish to take me for tea while everyone else is perusing the shops.”
About a third of the guests from the house party had come into town, many of the ladies already gathered outside shop windows, trying to decide which took their fancy the most. Meanwhile, the sparse quantity of gentlemen were wandering up the street to what appeared to be a public house.
Old haunts, most likely, considering most of the ton’s elite had been educated at either Oxford or Cambridge, with the occasional few finding their way to Durham or St. Andrew’s or Edinburgh.
Hugo, who had halted just up ahead, handed his horse to one of the carriage’s footmen. When he turned to look at the trio of ladies, Evelyn’s heart faltered as his eyes seemed to find hers first, a faint smile turning up one corner of his lips.
Then, he was walking toward them. At Evelyn’s side, Selina straightened and pushed a lock of hair out of her face, fluttering her eyelashes before he had even reached them.
“What would you ladies say to a thorough investigation of every shop on this street? My treat.” Hugo smiled, offering his arm to his sister.
Selina deflated somewhat. “I was just telling Evelyn and Octavia that I am in need of a bonnet.”
“I suppose we can look at bonnets too,” Hugo said dismissively, as his gaze flitted once more to Evelyn. “But I remember you saying you were desperate for a new gown, dear octopus.”
Octavia laughed and punched her brother lightly in the arm. “Do not call me that in public!”
“I shall call you whatever I please,” Hugo insisted with a grin. “Now, come, let us see if we cannot find a pleasant gown to fit all eight of your tentacles.”
Covering her mouth with her hand, Evelyn hid a chuckle, marveling at the ease and warmth that existed between brother and sister.
She could not, in a million years, imagine her own brothers behaving so playfully with her.
Then again, the last time Matthew had attempted to be ‘playful’ with her, he had conjured up a fear of toads so formidable that even the sound of one could break her out into a cold sweat and other, similarly slimy creatures sent a chill down her spine.
A moment later, Evelyn found herself soundly left behind as Hugo and Octavia pressed on toward the nearest modiste, with Selina hurrying after them.
The sight elicited a pinch of pity in the center of Evelyn’s chest, for it was not like Selina to be so eager, running after a man like a dejected hound.
Why are you so desperate to win his favor now? Why could you not have done this sooner, when he was more obliging, and when I did not… when I had not… She did not know how that thought ended and was too afraid to try and conclude it.
With an anxious breath, wondering if she should have stayed behind at the manor, she put her head down and followed the trio that were already entering the pink-painted door of La Jolie Rose.