Her thoughts slipped back to the brief encounter outside the library earlier that evening. She had nearly collided with Cillian as he’d rushed past, his arms overloaded with a precarious tower of books. He had barely slowed, his steps quick with purpose.
“Just need to keep myself busy tonight,” he had murmured, offering a faint, distracted smile.
Evelyne had glanced at the towering stack, arching a brow. “I think all those will keep you busy for weeks.”
He’d only nodded before disappearing down the hall toward his room.
Now, as the memory surfaced, she felt a pang of unease. Something about the exchange nagged at her, and she decided she would check on him before retiring for the night.
The sight of Lord Ivan Bavrick by one of the tables jolted her back to the present. His stiff posture and piercing stare set her on edge, just as they always did. Evelyne averted her eyes and let them drift across the room, eager for any distraction.
Her gaze shifted to Callista Evermere. Draped in a shimmering blue gown that accentuated her striking eyes and cascading black curls, Callista was a walking spectacle, and she knew it. The daring neckline left little to the imagination, quickly drawing the interest of the tall man beside her, whose lingering glances made his admiration clear. Annoyance flickered across Callista’s face the moment she spotted Evelyne, but it vanished behind a flawless smile. She tossed her hair and laughed,the sound too polished to be real.
Evelyne could read Callista like a well-worn novel—every graceful tilt of her head, every forced laugh, choreographed to command attention. And tonight, her stage was Alaric. Yet it wasn’t Callista’s performance that unsettled Evelyne now, but the way Alaric seemed to still the instant he noticed her. His eyes found her and held fast, paying no mind to Callista beside him. The intensity of his stare sent a shiver through her, and she tore her gaze away, heat rising up her neck. For reasons she could not name, the weight of it left her suddenly, inexplicably unsteady.
Why was he looking at her like that?And why did her heart trip over itself in answer?
She pushed the thought aside. Tonight was about her family, about maintaining composure and not getting lost in distractions. But even as she forced herself to focus, she couldn’t shake the feeling of his stare.
Celeste lightly rested her hands on Evelyne and Aurelia’s elbows, her voice smooth as she said, “Now, go enjoy yourselves, but not too much.” She gave Evelyne a pointed smile that made it clear she knew exactly how much her daughter despised these gatherings. Without another word, she drifted off to mingle with the other families, their father following behind her.
Evelyne exhaled slowly and turned to her sister. “Shall we get some wine?”
Aurelia, her attention fixed on the pianoforte in the corner, blinked out of her trance. “That sounds delightful.”
Two glasses later, Evelyne was more than ready to leave. The conversation around her grew increasingly insufferable, full of petty gripes, romantic speculation, and foolish fawning over Gaviel Stonebridge. One woman brazenly remarked how fortunate Mrs. Stonebridge must be to share his bed, sendinga ripple of giggles through the group. Did they actually enjoy these conversations? She turned to make a snide remark to Aurelia—only to realize her sister was gone.
Then, a familiar tune floated through the air, spirited and lively. Evelyne glanced toward the piano and smiled softly at the sight of Aurelia, whose hands danced over the keys with effortless joy. She shook her head, chuckling at her sister’s ability to brighten even the dullest room.
“My lady,” a voice purred from behind her, shattering the momentary peace she had found in watching her sister.Oh gods,no. Evelyne turned to see Ivan Bavrick looming over her, his eyes raking over her figure in a way that made her skin crawl.
“Lord Bavrick,” she replied, forcing a polite smile onto her face.
“Please, call me Ivan,” he insisted, his breath heavy with the scent of liquor.
Evelyne’s stomach churned. “It would be improper, my lord,” she said firmly, subtly shifting her body away from him.
Ivan was undeterred. He reached out and captured her hand, his grip uncomfortably tight. “I’d like to meet you in the gardens later,” he murmured, leaning in close. “Alone.”
Evelyne’s composure wavered for a fraction of a second. “I’m feeling quite tired,” she began, desperately searching for an escape. He must have meticulously orchestrated this meeting, ensuring that his brother wouldn’t interfere this time. She wouldn’t be surprised if he had threatened Wesley for spiriting her away during the last ball. In fact, she couldn’t even recall noticing Wesley earlier.
“Excuse me, Lord Bavrick,” Alaric interjected smoothly, materializing at Evelyne’s side. His smile was warm, but his eyesnever left hers. “My lady, forgive my delay. We still have that discussion about your book to finish, do we not?”
Evelyne breathed a sigh of relief. “Of course,” she said, her voice bright with gratitude as she reached for Alaric’s hand. But before she could take it, Ivan raised her captured hand to his lips, leaving a wet, unwelcome kiss on her skin.
“I’ll see you later, my lady,” he said, his tone laced with a false sweetness that did nothing to mask the threat in his eyes.
As Ivan retreated, Evelyne turned to Alaric. “Thank you for that.”
Alaric chuckled. “Think nothing of it. Though I do expect payment for my heroic deeds.”
“And what form would this payment take?”
“Well,” Alaric said, feigning seriousness, “a conversation about that book would suffice. Though I must confess, I do not know which book we discussed.”
Evelyne laughed, the tension finally easing from her shoulders. “You’ll have to be more specific next time you swoop in to save a damsel, Mr. Stonebridge,” she teased.
“Until then, you’re stuck with me improvising.”
