AWAKENING THE SHY MISS

by Scott, Bronwyn

  * * *

  She could not turn back time. She couldn’t even manage to hold it back. The long day which had seemed endless in the cool of the morning, and the tasks that had seemed impossible to accomplish in the warmth of the day, had given way to the long purple shadows of evening.

  ‘It looks spectacular.’ She turned at the sound of Dimitri’s voice. He had been everywhere today, raising curtains, moving tables, carrying heavy urns full of flowers, patiently moving them from niche to niche at her mother’s behest. Now, that labouring man was gone, replaced by a resplendent prince in dark evening clothes, immaculately groomed.

  ‘You look spectacular.’ Evie reached up and adjusted his cravat, a useless gesture since it was perfectly tied, but it gave her an excuse to touch him.

  ‘This exceeds my wildest expectations.’ Dimitri motioned to the site, taking in the transformation with a sweep of his hand.

  How she’d miss those wide gestures. Together, they looked at the lush setting with its silk hangings and displays. Guests would be able to wander through the corridor and view artefacts displayed in cases while reading carefully scripted programmes that detailed everything in the cases. She had worked hours on those. That reminded her of something. ‘Did you have any luck catching the thief?’ She still regretted the loss of the pretty comb and hair clips.

  ‘No, but no further harm has been done.’ Dimitri winked. ‘I would like to catch him. But if I don’t, I feel assured he will be punished. People who discover they’ve been duped into buying false antiques aren’t friendly about it. His crime will catch up with him.’ He wrapped his arms about her and planted a secret kiss on the back of her neck.

  ‘People will see!’ she scolded, caught off balance by his boldness. They’d spent the last weeks being careful, being private.

  ‘Let them see.’ Dimitri nuzzled her ear. ‘Very soon you’ll be mine and I can kiss you in public all I want.’

  ‘It would be a scandal.’

  ‘I hardly think anyone would care what an ordinary fellow does with his wife. They’ll just say it’s “common”.’ Dimitri laughed and she wished she could laugh too. But she knew better. Dimitri’s little fantasy would never come to pass.

  ‘You’ll never be common. With or without a title, you will always be the Prince to these people. People won’t stop staring at you.’ Didn’t this man ever look in the mirror? Women would stare at him if he were dressed in sackcloth.

  His arms around her tightened, she could feel him growing hard where her buttocks nestled against him. ‘I only care if you stare.’ For a moment she wondered if she’d been too hasty. Maybe he was right, maybe he knew what he was doing. Maybe she was the one who was throwing away happiness while he was the one bravely reaching for it with all he was worth. She had to put a stop to all of this second-guessing.

  ‘I have to get ready or the guests will be here and I’ll be in my apron.’

  Dimitri turned serious as he let her go. ‘I did want to tell you something. Andrew will be here tonight. He’s coming with Lord Belvoir and Miss Northam. But he won’t cause you any trouble. I give you my word, I won’t let him near you.’

  She squeezed his hand and looked down at their hands. ‘I know. I always feel safe when I’m with you.’

  ‘Then you’ll be safe for the rest of your life.’

  Not really, she thought as she headed to the pavilion to change. She’d be safe for the next sixteen hours. Then she’d be on a coach to Scotland and Dimitri could go back to Kuban without guilt. She would just go on. Somehow.

  * * *

  ‘Are you changing your mind about leaving?’ Her mother stepped behind the curtain leading into Dimitri’s private chambers. He’d given the area over to the two women to get ready for the gala. Evie was nearly ready now. Her mother had finished earlier and looked exceptionally lovely in a dark blue silk.

  Evie looked up from the vanity. ‘Why do you ask?’

  ‘Because you’ve spent the last five minutes staring in the mirror, doing nothing.’ Her mother walked the room, trailing a hand over the covers on the bed. ‘This is an impressive space. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a bed quite like this. It stirs the imagination a bit, doesn’t it?’ She gave a nervous little titter, a warning she was leading up to something.

  It stirs more than the imagination, Evie thought. ‘What do you mean, Mother?’ she asked warily. This conversation was going somewhere, she just wasn’t sure where that was.

  Her mother sat on the edge of the bed. ‘Evie, something has happened between you and the Prince, even since the last time we talked.’ She pursed her lips and looked down at her hands, perhaps unsure how to broach the subject. ‘I know about Beatrice. Her mother told me.’ Her mother smiled. ‘The perks of being long-time friends, I suppose.’

  What did Beatrice have to do with this? Evie was having a hard time keeping up. ‘I thought we were talking about the Prince.’

  ‘We are.’ Her mother sighed. She sounded concerned, her usual flightiness absent, a sign of just how worried she was, worried to the point of weariness—too weary for flight even. ‘I was young once, Evie. I was in love, I had emotions that ran hot and cold. I did a few things that might surprise you. I know young girls aren’t all that innocent and I don’t hold that against them. I think the Penroses have dealt poorly with Beatrice’s situation and my heart breaks for that girl.’ She paused. ‘What I am saying, Evie, is that you can tell me whatever it is that has happened with the Prince and we will sort it out.’ There was that wisdom again, coming when Evie least expected it.

  The kind words broke her. Evie felt the tears come and they wouldn’t stop. It had all been so very much to bear alone. She choked out the words. ‘Dimitri has proposed.’

  Her usually highly strung mother did not faint, did not lapse into excited hysterics. Instead, she met this news with an unflappable reserve that reminded Evie of when Diana’s earl had proposed. ‘Tell me everything.’ Her mother knelt beside her at the vanity, taking her hands.

  The story came out between sobs and tears. She had to repeat herself to make sense, had to take deep breaths to remain coherent. The enormity of what Dimitri had done was overwhelming. ‘He has renounced everything.’

  ‘What did you say to that, my darling girl?’ her mother asked quietly when she’d finished.

  ‘I said yes because he’d tolerate nothing less. But I knew I couldn’t let him do it. I can’t let him renounce his title, his country, turn his back on his family. I knew then I had to be strong for both of us. He’ll come to hate me once he realises what he’s done.’

  ‘That’s not what I asked,’ her mother said softly. ‘What do you want to say? Do you love him?’

  ‘I wasn’t supposed to love him. I never meant to love him. I thought I loved Andrew for years. But Dimitri came along when I least expected it. When I am with him, everything seems possible. When he looks at me, I feel beautiful, like I am more than I ever thought I could be.’ Evie drew a breath. ‘It’s too fast, isn’t it? How could I love Andrew for years and then love Dimitri instantly? Love at first sight doesn’t really exist. Does it?’ How could it when her mother said marriage was the work of a lifetime?

  Her mother laughed and smoothed back her hair. ‘Evie, love doesn’t work that way. Some people do fall in love over the course of several years, so gradually they don’t realise it. Others fall right away. There is no timetable and perhaps you were merely infatuated with Andrew. It would be easy enough. He’s handsome and charming in his own way if one doesn’t look too closely, like costume jewellery, no? He’s all you’ve known in this small corner of the world.’

  She smiled. ‘I’ve long thought it a great disservice to our women that we don’t send them abroad the way we do our young men. We should let our women see the world, see what it has to offer before they settle down.’

  It was the most
liberal thought Evie had ever heard her mother voice—her mother, who was traditional to her core, a woman who’d raised her daughters by the book, who did not challenge society by reaching too high above her. She knew her station.

  ‘I see I have surprised you.’ She squeezed Evie’s hand. ‘It might also surprise you to know that your father and I weren’t always this old married couple you see before you.’ There was a soft look in her eyes, a faraway look. ‘Once, we were young and hotly in love like you and your prince.’ Her voice trailed off. ‘I never told you this, but I had another suitor, in London, while your father was on his Grand Tour right before the wars broke out. Henry Northam.’

  Lord Belvoir? Evie almost fell off the vanity bench. The most feared man in Parliament? The man whose daughter was the toast of the ton? The man who’d tried to block Claire’s husband’s appointment to Vienna. ‘Cecilia’s father?’ she said in disbelief. ‘I can’t imagine you with him.’

  ‘Apparently neither could I.’ Her mother gave a little laugh. ‘I tried to, though. He was handsome, a superb dancer and he could have anyone he wanted. He was like Andrew in that regard. It was flattering that he was taken with me. I had nothing to offer him that a hundred other girls couldn’t also offer him. He was the catch of the Season that year, but I never felt quite right with him. I felt as if I were always thinking about what to say next, what to do next, hoping it would be the right thing. I wasn’t myself around him. Then your father came home from his Grand Tour early because the revolution in France had become too dangerous. I remember watching him walk into Lady Chatsworth’s ballroom in the middle of July and I knew I was going to marry him. He looked at me and it was over.’ A satisfied smile played on her lips. ‘I did marry him, three months later, a very fast wedding considering the circumstances.

  ‘Your father made me laugh, he still does. When I was with him, I didn’t question who I was and neither did he. Had I married Henry Northam, I would have spent the rest of my life doubting my place. Some people say I gave up everything, but I have never felt that way. I’ve gained everything. I loved the man, not the title, not all the trappings that went with him.’

  ‘But you told me marriage is work, that passion doesn’t last,’ Evie argued.

  ‘It is that too. You will quarrel and you will disagree, and the passion changes into something far better than what you start out with. So you see, you can fall in love at first sight.’

  ‘He is giving up too much. I don’t need him to be a prince. But I fear he does.’ She did not want him to become less than he was. ‘I don’t want him to humble himself for me, to give up his family. I’m not worth it and some day he’ll figure that out.’

  Her mother’s response was sharp. ‘Stop right there, young lady. Perhaps he should not humble himself for you, but you are worth loving. You hold yourself too cheaply and I fear people take advantage of you for it.’ Her mother made a sad smile. ‘Even your own family, sometimes. Your father and I love having you here. It would be hard to lose you. Maybe we haven’t handled it the right way, giving you too much freedom. But we didn’t want you to feel pressured to leave or too suffocated if you stayed. Perhaps in being laissez-faire, we’ve create the impression we didn’t care. But we do care, Evie, about your happiness very much and you can’t be happy with anyone unless you’re happy with yourself. Can you live with yourself if you let the Prince go? Don’t answer, just think on it.’

  Her mother rose. ‘Let me help you with your dress or we’ll be late for our own party.’

  The russet silk slid over her and Evie felt peace, confidence descend with it. This gown was her armour. In it, she felt beautiful. Beautiful enough even to stand beside Dimitri Petrovich. Evie wasn’t arrogant enough to think she would be the centre of attention at the gala, but she would be in the centre of attention. Any woman standing beside Dimitri would always be in the centre of attention. Old Evie would have played the hostess behind the scenes. But the Evie who stared back at her from the mirror as she smoothed the gown over her hips, the New Evie who had taken a lover, would be Cinderella at the ball, a ball she’d planned. She would stand beside Dimitri as his hostess for the first and only time with a smile on her face and act as if her world wasn’t about to fall apart. She was glad she was wearing quite possibly the best dress she’d ever made. She was going to need it. It was becoming more difficult with each hour to maintain her belief that she had made the right choice.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Dimitri came to an abrupt halt, his heart pounding in pure male appreciation as Evie stepped out from the pavilion. He vaguely registered that her parents were with her or that other carriages had begun to arrive at the site like a little parade. All of that could wait for just a moment while he looked at her.

  The gown was daring, a design all its own that was at once modern with its rich russet hue and yet a throwback to earlier days of fuller skirts and tighter bodices—a fashion he was developing an immediate appreciation for. The bodice was cut low, with the merest nod to sleeves in the slim off-the-shoulder bands that called more attention to what was not there than what was. A black choker at her neck drew the eye upward to the delicate bones of her shoulders and the cream of her skin, the upsweep of her hair a perfect match for the richness of her gown. But when she walked, the gown and the woman took on a life of their own. A man couldn’t help but notice the tight waist, the gorgeous, sweeping bell of her skirts as she moved. The woman in the gown moved with grace that bordered on regal. He’d never seen Evie like this, yet it was still her, still his sweet, beautiful Evie. It was there in the smile she bestowed on him.

  He moved towards her, offering her his hand, taking hers in its long, white, elbow-length gloves, raising it to his lips. He let his eyes brave her face as he kissed those gloved knuckles, not caring if he gave away too much. Let the world see how much he loved her. By tomorrow, it would be over. She would be his. He beamed at her, but her lovely smile faltered. Nerves, perhaps? He tucked her arm through his. ‘I want nothing more than to be alone with you.’ His voice was low. ‘As lovely as that gown is, I can think only of taking it off you.’

  She shook her head. ‘Not now.’ She was right, of course. He had a party to host. There was no time. Guests were arriving and the future of this wonderfully begun excavation depended on his success tonight.

  ‘Certainly not now, guests might find that a little awkward. Later, then.’ He gave a chuckle just for her and led her towards their guests. ‘Their’. He liked the sound of that. There would be a lot more ‘theirs’ and ‘ours’. ‘Come and see your party, Evie. It has turned out magnificently.’

  He wanted her to see it as a guest, not as a worker who had laboured all day to make the magic happen. It had overwhelmed him in its elegance when he’d stepped out of the pavilion. He’d helped the curtained walls go up, seen the swathes of fabric give shape to the party space all day long, but it was wondrous to see the transformation after stepping back from it. It was even more wondrous to see it through Evie’s eyes, to see her face brighten with a genuine smile of joy when she saw the rich fabrics, the lit candles, the flowers all in their places.

  They took up their place at the entrance to the site, his Kubanian crew turned out in the livery of footmen, standing behind them ready with trays of chilled champagne in the phalanx that discreetly ushered the guests through the site without letting them veer off to unfinished areas. In the distance, the dancing tent gleamed white in the falling light.

  ‘Mrs Jeffers, Mr Jeffers, how good of you to come. Your necklace is lovely, is that a topaz?’ Dimitri greeted the first guests with a smile. The party had begun. It was a start. He was happier than he had been all day. Evie was beside him and it gave him confidence that they would sort out whatever lay between them. He devoted himself to charming the guests, but most of all, he devoted himself to selflessly charming Evie. Let her see that I can do this, that I can fit in in her little part
of the world, that I can be her man. He knew the guests by name, knew small, personal details about each of them, encouraged them to enjoy the party.

  Beside him, Evie was a revelation. Her natural tendency to help others made her the consummate hostess to his host. She discreetly saw to everyone’s comfort, making sure people were paired with others they could talk to with ease as he moved around the gathering space with her. At each group, he stopped and talked briefly about the project, the progress and the future. More than ever now, he needed funds for the project. He would no longer have vast unlimited wealth to throw at it.

  He watched Evie with Mrs Stone, listening politely to a story about the lady’s grandchildren. Tonight was a glimpse of what life would be like; hosting parties with Evie. Perhaps nothing as grand as this, but other events at their home in the valley. His offer had been accepted. If he had a private moment with Evie tonight, he’d tell her. He wanted to show her the deed. Signs of life. Proof of life. Their life. Not even Andrew with Cecilia Northam on his arm laughing and tossing her head could diminish the evening.

  If there was one blight on the evening, it was a small one indeed. Evie was everything a hostess should be and yet he felt she wasn’t quite herself. Every so often, he’d sneak a glance and catch a sadness in her eyes and then she would look at him and it would disappear as if he’d imagined it.

  After a dinner of Russian foods, all of his favourites—he could see Evie’s thoughtful hand in the menu—he led her out for the first dance, a Russian waltz beneath the enormous canopy with its dazzling chandelier that had stolen everyone’s breath. He had waited all night for an excuse to hold her close, to put his hand at her waist and claim her in front of all these people, all of her neighbours, and announce through his possession that he meant to make her his. After tonight, there could be no doubt that this was what he wanted and this was the woman he wanted it with.