Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“Are you certain that the baron did not say something unkind to you?” Octavia asked, perched on the side of the bed. “It is just that you have not been yourself since that encounter. I could ask my brother to speak to the man, if he has been uncouth or discourteous.”
Sympathy swelled in Evelyn’s chest for her new friend.
After the unpleasant experience that had almost caused a scandal for her, it was understandable that Octavia would think the worst. But the truth was, there was nothing inherently wrong with Miles…
it was just that there was nothing inherently right with him, either. Not for Evelyn.
“He was entirely civil,” she insisted. “I had already begun to feel… uncomfortable while I was in the modiste’s; it had nothing to do with the baron.”
That was certainly true. She had left the modiste because of Selina’s sharp glare, which had instructed her to leave her friend alone with Hugo far more powerfully than any words could. Knowing that Selina rarely failed to get what she wanted, what choice had Evelyn had but to excuse herself?
And the thought of you marrying him, my dearest friend, made my stomach lurch… but how could I ever tell you that?
“Yes, I suppose you did look rather pale when you stepped outside,” Octavia said, nodding. “Well, you must rest now. Can I have the servants fetch anything for you? Some tea, perhaps?”
Evelyn smiled. “Tea would be lovely.”
“I shall see to it right away.” Octavia jumped up off the bed and hurried out into the hallway, vanishing like her brother.
Left alone with Selina, Evelyn prayed her friend would not begin again with talk of how she now favored Hugo. Her weary heart would not be able to bear it, not today, not with the shadow of the baron hanging over her, casting a pall over the entirety of her future.
“I do not think she likes me much,” Selina said, her eyes fixed on the doorway.
Evelyn nearly laughed. “You have not behaved very well toward her.”
“Sisters have a habit of hating me,” Selina explained, turning back to look at Evelyn.
“It has always been that way, ever since my debut. They are frosty with me, as if I am some threat to their family, rather than someone who might fit in rather well. I suppose I assumed that she would be the same, for she is very close to the duke. You can tell they hold a great deal of affection for one another.”
“She does not dislike you,” Evelyn assured.
She just does not think you are a good match for Hugo. She neglected to add that part, for that would warrant explanation that Evelyn did not have the strength for.
Selina shrugged. “No matter. She will like me well enough if I find myself engaged to her brother. She will not have much of a choice but to like me.”
Closing her eyes, Evelyn sank deeper into the cushions, wishing to be alone but too polite to say so.
It was not hard to picture Selina and Hugo standing together by the altar of a church, pledging their vows to one another: the most beautiful woman in England and the most handsome man Evelyn had ever seen, joined in holy matrimony.
It made perfect sense, it made for a pretty vision, so why did it hurt so much?
“I thought His Grace was rather too dismissive today,” Selina continued, oblivious.
“I do not care to be flattered and admired effusively, but I do wish he had shown me some sign that he favors me. Do you think you might speak to Octavia, see what her brother has said to her? She seems to like you very much. Indeed, I am feeling rather… replaced.”
Evelyn cracked open an eye. “You can never be replaced, Selina. I am quite able to have more than one dear friend.”
“Yes… yes, I suppose you are. It is just that… I have grown so accustomed to having you at my side, and I do not know what I would do without you,” Selina replied, her voice thick.
“It shall make me sound terribly spoiled, but… I have never liked to share. I did not have much when I was a child, as you know, so what I do have… I like to keep for myself.”
“Then, it is something you must learn. A broadening of your character,” Evelyn said, strangely endeared by her friend’s confession. “Besides, if my father gets his way, I will be taken from your side anyway.”
Shaking her head, Selina stared at Evelyn with fire in her eyes. “You really must stand up to him, Evie. If you do not, then you will be miserable. The baron is not the gentleman for you. Anyone with eyes and half a brain can see that.”
“Without an alternative, I am not sure I have a choice,” Evelyn replied honestly. “It is not as if I have gentlemen lining up to make offers of marriage to me. I am… I am not you, Selina. Some days, I wish that I were, but… I shall never be you.”
And that is why Hugo shall never be mine, even if this…
feeling was more than a fleeting affection.
She still maintained it was just his kindness and concern that had made her feel all confused, and would continue to tell herself that, but her heart was not in a listening mood today.
Not after learning what Hugo had done, chiding her brothers on her behalf.
“But… I do not understand it,” Selina urged, her smooth brow creasing in consternation.
“You are one of the most beautiful ladies in the ton. You are amusing, you are intelligent, you are brimming with knowledge about everything and anything; you dance well, you sing well, you have an extensive memory when it comes to reciting poetry and tossing interesting subjects into conversation; you shoot as well as any man, you ride better than most, you are kind and generous and you radiate that sweetness. You are more accomplished, more magnificent, than I shall ever be, and yet… somehow you are overlooked, just because you are shy. I have never understood it, and I think it… incredibly unfair.”
Frozen, Evelyn stared at her friend, tears pricking at her eyes. For a brief moment, she wondered if she had drifted off to sleep and had dreamed of such sweet words. Things she had often wished she might hear someone say to her.
Yet, Selina looked at her in earnest, her eyes somewhat misty too.
And there was a feeling of true frustration emanating from that beautiful woman, adding credence to what she had just said.
Her frown spoke of a puzzle she could not solve, as if what she had just spoken about was something she thought of frequently.
“It is my fervent wish to see you happy, Evie,” Selina added softly. “You have been such a good friend to me. For tolerating me alone, you deserve joy.”
Evelyn leaned forward and found Selina’s hand. “As long as I do not lose your friendship, I shall find enough contentment in life. No matter where I am or what I must endure.”
“It is not enough,” Selina urged. “You deserve so much more than that.”
“Some of us are not destined for greatness, Selina, regardless of how hard we try,” Evelyn replied, her heart heavy. “But I shall adapt, as I have always done. I will seek happiness wherever I can get it.”
“It is not enough,” Selina repeated, a tear falling onto her cheek.
“It must be,” Evelyn said, and squeezed her friend’s hand tightly.
For she had been taught from a very young age that what she wanted would always be out of her reach.
She had learned how to manage disappointment, and she would do it again and again and again.
Even if she had to watch Selina and Hugo marry, she would be there with a smile upon her face, never letting anyone know that her heart was broken.
“Oh heavens, what has happened?” Octavia’s voice interrupted the sincere moment, as she walked in with a maid behind her, who carried a tea tray that was absolutely laden with cakes.
Selina’s demeanor shifted, some ice returning to her veins. A protective habit, or so Evelyn realized. It was not that Selina wanted to be cold toward Octavia; it truly appeared to be something beyond her control. An instinct.
She has suffered too, Evelyn reminded herself.
There had been relative poverty in Selina’s life, during her formative years.
She sometimes mentioned those moments in passing: that her father was always concerned about losing the manor, that there was never money for anything, that everything was in a state of disrepair, that belongings were always being sold.
It was all because of one lucky investment that her father’s fortunes had boomed and they had been elevated to their respected position in society.
It was somewhat frowned upon for gentlemen to work, but Selina’s father wore it as a badge of honor. Now, other gentlemen, men who might be secretly struggling with their own fortune, came to him to seek advice.
“I was just saying how unfair it is that my friend has no alternative, when she is so… remarkable,” Selina said stiffly. “I cannot comprehend why shyness is considered a fault.”
Octavia seemed surprised by the answer, as she came to sit on the side of the bed once more. “I could not agree more, Miss Parsons.” She glanced curiously at Evelyn. “If there was an alternative, Evelyn, would you seize the opportunity?”
“It would depend,” Evelyn replied, suddenly feeling cornered. “If the alternative was no better than Lord Hemstich, then why bother? If the alternative was an… improvement, then perhaps I would muster the courage.”
If the alternative was Hugo, however, I do not think I would ever be able to find the courage.
She discreetly observed Selina, knowing that, if such an impossibility ever came to pass, she would not exchange her friendship for the hope of a brighter future.
That was a ruthlessness she simply did not possess and in the cutthroat game of the marriage market, she would never dare to lift a blade to stab a dear friend in the back.
Perhaps that, far more than shyness, was the reason she had had no success these past three years, and why she had no choice but to accept that she would, one day soon, most likely be the Baroness of Hemstich.