“Oh good.Rest for another hour.But after that you must rise and ready yourself for the ball.”
“Can you not go without me?Just to this one.Please, Mama.”
“No, I won’t hear of it.You need to be there.If the Duke of Rutland dissolves the betrothal, everyone needs to see ’twas his fault not yours, that you are not lacking in any way.”
“Mama, if the Duke of Rutland dissolves the betrothal, I don’t care if anyone else thinks I’m lacking.Only his opinion counts.”
“Hush.You cannot think like that.If he doesn’t want you, thenheis lacking.You deserve better than a man who cannot forgive.It means that there’s a better choice out there for you.”
Evie whined, “But I don’t want a better choice.I want him.”She was being dramatic but couldn’t help how she felt.Society had grown tiresome.Xander had taught her there were more important things in life.
“Well, what if he attends tonight?He’s in Town, and I have it on good authority that he’s been invited.”
Evie blinked, then sat up.“Do I have time for a bath?”
Her mother turned to the maid to order a bath, not realizing Evie could see her satisfied smirk in the mirror over her dresser.
She didn’t care if her mother was manipulating her.The temptation of being in his presence once more was too much to resist.Aunt Lou had said that the best way to win him back was in person.
Besides, she’d avoided him at the previous event, so this might be the last time her eyes could feast on him.Perhaps she could finagle introducing him to more Whigs.If only she could do that on his arm as his betrothed.Or else she’d watch him from a balcony and pine silently.She’d take what she could get, despite knowing it would drive a stake through her heart all over again.
* * * *
Despite having fewer attendees, the ball wasa crush due to the host’s home being smaller.Sitting in the line of coaches spewing partygoers one by one, she snickered thinking what Xander would say about such a fête.Likely it would be something about whether the host attempted to navigate the overheated, smelly ballroom to actually speak to all of his guests.
Unsure what she’d do if he attended, she also worried whether he’d ignore her.Her mother would become apoplectic if she perceived a public snub, but Evie was more concerned that such an action would indicate a permanent severing of their relationship.She needed that last shard of hope to cling to.
After being handed out of the carriage by her father, they entered and made their way to the ballroom.As they stood in the doorway, Xander’s close-cropped head drew her gaze like a beacon.
The announcement of their names was lost in the melee, yet he whipped around and stared.His lips moved, making his excuses, because in the next moment he was striding through the crowd toward her, parting them as easily if they were blades of grass.
Reaching her and her parents, he bowed in turn and asked, “Evie, might I have a word?”
Her brows twitched, and she looked around them.“Here?Now?”
“Er, sort of.”
“Go take a stroll around the ballroom, my dear,” her mother encouraged, ignoring the fact that two people could not promenade through the crowd.
Her father shot both of them a warning look but said nothing.Instead, he raised a hand to someone over Xander’s shoulder and murmured to his wife to excuse him.
Xander proffered his arm, and Evie placed her hand on it, hoping he had a plan.She smothered a grin when he angled his outer shoulder in front of them and led her through the crowd toward the French doors that opened to a veranda.Here was yet another reason to appreciate this man’s physique.
As he stepped through them, Evie balked, not wanting to risk her reputation if he was going to end things between them.She planted her feet, tugged on his sleeve, and whispered, “What do you want with me, Xander?If you still plan to break the betrothal, the last thing you want is to be caught alone with me.”
“I understand, Evie.If you’re more comfortable, we can stay here at the railing, in sight of the ballroom.There are others out here, serving as chaperone.”
Her nerves had come to the forefront, however, and she couldn’t wait any longer.“Just tell me what you want, please.”
“I want…,” he swallowed and took a breath.“To accept your apology and offer one of my own.”
Her brows climbed her forehead.This was unexpected—pleasantly so, but she was unprepared.She stared at him, speechless and expectant.If he thought those words were enough, he was sorely mistaken.
Turning to face her, he took her hands in his.“I was hurt.My feelings, my pride, all of it.I had bared my soul to you, and suddenly, you were a stranger.Worse, a titled stranger.So I lashed out rather than listen to what you were telling me.”
He appeared contrite, his eyes pleading and his brows drawn up.But she still hadn’t heard a clear apology, just reasons.He might have reasons again in a week, a month, a year, and who knows what he’d do then.She stared at him, remaining silent.
He glanced down at their joined hands, then up again.Sighed.Shifted.
