"Fleur, are you well?" asked Julia.
She forced a smile, angry with herself for opening those memories. She turned to Julia, placing her hand on her arm. "I am."
Julia sighed. "You're thinking about him, aren't you? I don't need to ask, I know it."
Fleur removed her arm and spun back around in her chair. "Julia, not now, please."
Julia walked around Fleur's chair and knelt beside her, looking up into her eyes. "But what if ..." She bit her lip, unable to finish.
"What if?" Fleur prompted, knowing she did not like the turn the conversation had taken.
"Do you think he will be there tonight?"
Fleur tittered but her face grew pale. "Why would he come? Julia, he never does."
"Yes, I know, but tonight they are announcing his brother's betrothal. Don't you think there might be a chance? Even if slight?"
She tried to hold her hands steady as she folded them in her lap, trying to deny that Julia may be right.
"You go and finish getting ready," said Fleur, cutting off her questioning and dismissing her. "I'll meet you downstairs in just a moment, I promise." She smiled, trying to console Julia when she looked ready to argue.
Relieved that she didn't, she watched Julia nod and leave the room. Fleur sat still only for a moment before she stood and walked over to her bed and ran her hand across the blue lace of her gown. She blanched as she realized she had not even considered that Evan might be there. It would be perfectly natural, of course, if he made an exception and arrived that evening.
Her stomach flipped and she felt slightly warm at the thought. What if he spoke to her? Would she be able to bear him wishing her joy in marriage to his own brother? She wrapped her arm around her bedpost and laid her head upon the cool wood, closing her eyes, fighting back her emotions.
How was it that only the chance of speaking to Evan made her heart ache and mind race, when a proposal from a perfectly amiable and attractive man had not? Fleur shook her head, remembering Edward made her feel guilt and shame. Her thoughts should be of him, not Evan, and if he arrived tonight she would greet him cordially and that would be that.
Her maid walked over to her, lifted the garment, and heaved it over her head, and when Fleur emerged it was with a new frame of mind.
She owed her devotion to Edward, no-one else. He had come forward without hesitation to help her from an impossible situation and she was to be his viscountess, and one day his countess. People would be watching her, scrutinizing her every move, just waiting for her to blunder, and she had to do everything within her own power not to let them break her resolve.
She turned and looked herself in the mirror one last time and promised herself she would not give them one reason to doubt that devotion. She would forget Evan. She must.
***
Evan heard a knock in the distance, but as he awoke the sound grew closer until it had his full attention. He stretched and opened one eye carefully, then the other while he raised himself up. He rubbed his eyes and then glanced at the window and saw that it was night.
"Damn," he mumbled. "Enter."
Higgins walked slowly inside and Evan let his head fall backwards. He stared at the ceiling, annoyed. "What is it, Higgins?"
"Mr. Carter has arrived, sir, he says he is here to convey you to the Brockhursts' without delay."
Evan groaned, the news of that afternoon flooded his memory, and he took a deep breath before gathering himself, trying to relieve the pressure on his chest. He imagined going to the ball and standing off to the side of the room as his father announced the betrothal, only another spectator to wish them well. He couldn't bear it.
"You can tell Mr. Carter that I'm not going."
"Sir, Mr. Carter bid me ... I of course would never argue with your decision, but Mr. Carter ..."
Evan huffed and sat up straight, looking to Higgins. "Mr. Carter is a damned nuisance. Off with you, out of my rooms!" he shouted.
Evan leaned back, his head thumping on the headboard. "Damn," he said again. He sat for a moment, eyes closed until he again heard footsteps in his outer chamber.
"I thought I told you —"
"My, my, Evan, I know you never try very hard with your appearance but this goes above and beyond, even for you."
"What are you doing in here?" Evan asked, startled at Nathan's sudden appearance. He scrambled out of bed and stood on the other side as if to create a barrier between him and his friend. "Get out of here at once."
"No, I don't believe I will," said Nathan, shaking his head at Evan's unbelievable appearance. "Look at you. You're a complete ... are those pillow marks on your face? Evan, were you sleeping?"
Evan stared. "I'm in a bedchamber, aren't I? Daft question."
"How very unlike you," Nathan said while Evan snorted.
"To sleep?"
Nathan starting to lose patience, huffed. "To lose track of the time, Evan. You loathe when people aren't punctual and you are never late. It's going to take you an hour to get ready."
"No, it would take you an hour. As it is, I've already told Higgins to tell you I'm not going."
Nathan smirked. "Yes, he did say as much, but I've had strict instructions to drag you there 'by any means necessary' and have been given full permission from the lady of the house to use force, if necessary."
Evan scowled, remembering his promise to his mother. Now that he was fully awake and his faculties about him he knew it wouldn't be well done of him to stay away.
"I only have to throw my coat on and we can be off."
Nathan looked scandalized. "You can't arrive like that. Comb your hair at least. It looks like all you did was run your hand through it, which I am sure is precisely what you did."
Evan ignored him and walked into the sitting room while starting to tie his cravat, only to be followed and then interrupted by Nathan clucking at him in a manner much like his own mother.
"Don't tie it like that, good Lord, you're going to a ball, not out to Tattersalls to buy a matching pair," he said as he advanced on Evan. "Here, let me do it."
"Get away, Nathan," Evan spluttered and tried to back away only to hit the wall. "I mean it! I won't be held responsible for my actions if you so much as touch —"
"Oh be quiet. Here, it won't take a minute," Nathan said, grabbing the cravat and styling it.
Evan continued to glower at him while resigning himself to the offending hands. "Don't make it all puffy, with all those ridiculous loops yours has," said Evan. "It looks like you can't even draw breath in that monstrosity."
Nathan shook his head and finished. He stood back to admire his skill when Evan reached up, pulling at it with one finger, nearly destroying all his hard work. "Stop that," he barked while batting at Evan's hand. "You are going to ruin it."
"Too tight," Evan grumbled while reaching for his freshly pressed waist and tailcoat. Finally dressed, he ran his hand through his hair once more and declared himself ready. Nathan simply shrugged his shoulders in defeat until Evan saw him eyeing his greatly worn Hessian boots.
"Don't say it."
"Why would I waste my breath?" asked Nathan, his hands in the air, a smile on his face.
Evan actually laughed aloud and grabbed his walking stick before striding purposefully out of the room, Nathan on his heels. "You don't expect me to go around in silk stockings and gold buckled shoes, do you?"
"Well, yes, that's normally what one wears to a ball." Nathan laughed. "Though I admit you would look quite ridiculous in silk stockings and gold bucked shoes. I can't begin to imagine it."
"Well, don't try," said Evan halfway down the stairway. When they reached the entryway Evan slipped his hand into his pocket and froze. For a split second he considered not going after it, but he couldn't. It was a part of him.
"I forgot something. Wait here, I won't be a moment."
Evan bounded back up the stairs as he heard Nathan ask him to stop dawdling. He ran into the room and slowed when he saw it, mocking him from the corner of the
room. He walked over and bent down, picking up the silver piece. He stood, and gazed at it for a moment, inspecting it for any harm, before placing it back into his pocket.
He ran back down the stairs and didn't even pause to talk to Nathan before he burst out the front doors and into to the carriage that awaited them. As he sat in the box waiting for Nathan, he counted to ten and made a promise to himself that tonight he would be graciousness itself and any feelings he had on the matter would be closed. He would give his brother his love and congratulations and then be off, and anything that happened after, he would deal with as it arose.
DASTARDLY MEETINGS
Lady Charity Preston sat in the corner of the ballroom, fanning herself in triumph. "And Louisa was practically dying of envy when I told her I was to attend the Blackburn house party. I thought she would fall over from shock."
"Charity, you really shouldn't go around announcing to every living person that you were invited. People will think you're boasting," said Phoebe Simmons, her cousin and companion. "After all, Prudence and I were also invited."
"Yes, because you are my friends," Charity said, as though her reasoning was plain for everyone to see. "Obviously they have noted our friendship and have invited you so I will feel more comfortable. Things might finally be turning around for the better, Phoebe. Can't you be happy for me?"
Phoebe looked at her skeptically but Charity was sure she had been invited to attend the Blackburn house party because they intended to match her with their eldest son, Viscount Ravenbrook.
She told her cousin as much that morning and, once prodded, Phoebe also agreed it was odd for them to receive invitations since they really had nothing to do with the family. Phoebe thought she was setting herself up for a disappointment, but Phoebe didn't know what she knew.
The Blackburn heir fancied her, and she intended to use that to her advantage.
"Then how do you explain Prudence?" Phoebe tried to reason, again. "They wouldn't invite her because she's your friend. You hardly even speak to her unless I'm with you."
"Whoever cares, Phoebe, but I know I'm right. I've seen the way he looks at me from across the room. Look! He's doing so right now." She turned and gave an easy but calculated smile to the viscount, who looked back unabashedly, not even shocked at being caught staring at her so openly.
Phoebe turned her gaze and started, quickly looking back to Charity. "Has he been staring at you all evening?"
Charity smiled. "More like all season."
Phoebe gasped. "Has he spoken to you? Surely not."
"How could he? We've never been introduced," said Charity.
He had always watched her from afar, and why wouldn't he stare? She knew she was beautiful. With her golden hair and light blue eyes, her cornflower blue dress cut just so to accentuate her figure. Phoebe's own blonde hair was not quite so golden, and her blue eyes, not quite so blue.
Even so she knew Phoebe had something she didn't, and that was happiness and love. It wasn't that she didn't have love of her own. She did. Her father loved her, she knew, but everyone had always gravitated towards Phoebe. Her life had been free of strife and loss and it showed on her glowing friendly face. Charity loved her cousin for her interference in her own life, but knew she must take every opportunity presented to her, especially once such as this.
"Perhaps you're right about the house party, still, I don't want you to get your hopes up only to be hurt," said Phoebe. "There could be many other reasons for the invitation."
Charity opened her mouth to answer, only to be interrupted by Prudence Wilson sitting herself down beside the pair, her caramel colored curls bouncing as she tried to catch her breath. "You will never guess what I saw a moment ago."
Phoebe turned to Prudence and smiled, while Charity tried to appear uninterested but leaned towards her to hear just the same. "What is it? Go on, tell us. I can see you'll absolutely burst if you don't."
"Well, I was waiting to greet the hostess — oh, was the line ever long — and I saw Julia standing with her sister and Lady Blackburn. They were right behind me, you see, and do you know what Julia told me?" Prudence asked excitedly, her brown eyes sparkling and her cheeks flushed from the crush of the room.
"Get on with it already," Charity said testily.
Prudence gave her a look before continuing. "She said that she and her sister arrived here in Lady Blackburn's carriage, that they all came together!"
Phoebe patted Prudence on the arm as Charity deflated at such dull news. "That's not very extraordinary," Phoebe said kindly.
Prudence shook her head. "Yes, but that's not all. I heard Lady Blackburn tell Fleur that the announcement would be made before supper. The announcement. Don't you see, I've figured out the puzzle. That must be why we were all invited, because of the Osborne girls. Julia is a particular friend of mine and you two have known Fleur for ages. It all makes sense now that there will be an announcement." She giggled, happy at the idea of one of them finally marrying.
"Hush, Prudence, now you're just speculating." Phoebe said, trying to un-ruffle some of Charity's feathers. "The Duke of Norfield is old friends with the Earl of Blackburn, but it doesn't have to mean marriage between the families."
"Oh, Phoebe, what else does one announce at a ball?" she asked, exasperated at their lack of enthusiasm. "It's obvious to everyone that they would be perfect for one another." Prudence lowered her voice and leaned towards them. "It must be that there is an understanding between them."
Charity leaned back in her chair with an indignant huff. "How absurd."
"That will be enough, both of you," said Phoebe. "We don't know anything right now and I do not like gossiping about Fleur like this when she's not here to defend herself."
"Very well," said Prudence, while Charity looked about the room, continuing to fan herself. To the world Charity looked cool and confident, but she was quickly becoming worried. What if Prudence was right? If he were indeed to marry Fleur, she would have no prospects at all until next season, and that would not do at all.
She stole a glance at the viscount, and sure enough, he was still looking at her with unabashed curiosity. She really couldn't figure out what the man was about, but she hoped for her own sake that Prudence was wrong, though if she wasn't, she was prepared to wish Fleur well. Securing her own future was important, but not at the cost of her own dear friend's happiness.
***
Evan made his way into the ballroom with Nathan looking for his cousins and brother. He'd never attended a ton ball, only country assemblies back home, and the opulence both amazed and petrified him. He gazed around the room and saw much to scorn, but he also admitted — even reluctantly — that there was also much to praise.
Couples young and old danced in the center of the room, talking and laughing. Matrons guarded their charges like the fierce lionesses they were and men both respected and feared them as they circled around, gathering courage to speak.
It was a choreographed dance, this mating ritual, and it fascinated him.
He walked further in the room and spied Edward in his usual pose, leaning against a wall, nonchalantly looking across the room. Felix and Dom were on either side of him, and Evan's tense shoulders relaxed with relief at seeing familiar faces.
Nathan and Evan made their way towards them into the thick of it, and the whispers and words of his arrival did not go unnoticed by him.
"Everyone is staring at me," he whispered to Nathan.
Nathan laughed. "Of course they are. Had you done your duty like a good little gentleman and attended these things before, then you would have been as unremarkable as the rest of us. As it is, you're like the new act at a traveling circus. Everyone wants to get a good look at you."
Evan looked around and saw no fewer than four ladies in white staring at him from behind fans beside the refreshment table. He quickened his pace.
Arriving, Felix clapped him on the shoulder, laughing at his practical gallop to their side. "Ah, Evan, fancy seeing you here. Sta
y by us, young cousin, and we shall protect you."
Dom laughed. "He looks ready to bolt, Carter. Didn't you warn him at all?"
Nathan smiled and shrugged.
"Leave him be," said Edward, his amusement obvious only to those who knew him.
Evan pulled at his cravat with a glare from Nathan. "It's so hot in here, I don't know how any of you stand it for long."
Felix smiled and shook Evan's shoulder once more. "That's why God invented the card room, Evan, so men would have a place to drink and tarry and loosen their collars with stories that weren't made for ladies, young or old."
Evan looked at his cousin, completely diverted. "Your turn of phrase is as quick as ever, Felix. Damn if I didn't miss you."
They laughed, and Evan couldn't help the small tinge of regret that told him had he just swallowed his pride, he could have been here with them always, enjoying their company, and not just during the few times a year he allowed himself to return home.
He had discovered many regrets that day, though not all were so easily remedied, and some he knew he would never have the chance to, not as he wished.
Feeling rather gloomy now and at odds with the frenzy of the room, he jerked his head at Nathan. "Want to show me this card room?"
Nathan nodded, and asked the others to join them. Felix and Dom declined, having dance partners of their own, and Edward just shook his head with a smile and looked off into the distance.
Evan followed Nathan to the card room, and this time searched the room meticulously for a certain young woman with raven hair and fine blue eyes. He did not know if he would find her, or what he would do if he did, though the thought made him breathless and nervous with anticipation.
He only knew he wanted to see her again, even if it were only to glimpse her from afar. It was in that moment that Evan knew he should have had the foresight, the knowledge of his own character to know when he did find her, something dastardly was bound to happen.
***
Fleur stood in the large entryway to the ballroom with Julia, both looking for the other girls. Had she not been so preoccupied, Fleur would have been in awe of the splendor before her. Wood floors that gleamed in the lowered candlelight of the many chandeliers, the whole of the room a soft white with cool tones of blue.
Marriage to a Mister (A Daughters of Regency #1) Page 6