“Somehow, I think I’ll manage.”
Alaric peeked over his shoulder at Lord Bavrick, whose displeasure was evident in the scowl across his face. Then, he turned back to Evelyne and smiled.
“Shall we add fuel to the fire, my lady?” He brushed a hand against the small of her back, a subtle and electrifying gesture. “Join me tonight,” he whispered. “It might just send the message loud and clear.”
His warm touch stole Evelyne’s breath for a moment, but mischief quickly lither smile. Annoying Lord Bavrick while delighting in the regard of a man who valued her was far too delicious to pass by.
From across the table, Callista watched with thinly veiled contempt, her practiced composure doing little to hide her irritation at Evelyne’s place beside Alaric. With a dramatic flourish, she leaned forward, showcasing her ample cleavage, and plastered on a smile so sugary it could induce a toothache. Evelyne had to bite back a laugh. She knew then that the night would be very interesting.
Dinner commenced, and as conversation flowed effortlessly between Evelyne, Alaric, and his companions, Callista’s agitation grew increasingly evident. Every shared laugh, every whispered exchange between Alaric and Evelyne, seemed to ignite a fresh wave of anger in her.
“Why, Lady Evelyne,” Callista drawled, her voice pitched to carry. “You appear remarkably at ease this evening. A rare change, I daresay, from the company you are accustomed to. Which, if memory serves, is… well, almost no one at all—unless the debutantes happen to take pity and draw you in.”
Evelyne arched a brow and slowly sipped her wine before responding. “Quite right, Callista. There is something most refreshing in the company of those whose talk has substance. A rare pleasure, I assure you, especially when compared with what one endures among the debutantes.”
Callista stiffened slightly. “Indeed. Though I imagine it takes time to fully grasp the intricacies of such company.”
Leaning in, Evelyne gave a generous view of her neckline, but with a refinement that made Callista’s earlier attempt look clumsy by comparison. “It really isn’t difficult to adjust when one has a personality worth attending to, rather than relying on one’s neckline to command notice.” Her smile sharpened. “I’ve always had a talent for recognizing subtleties.”
Alaric chuckled into his glass, and the others at the table exchanged glances.
“How charming,” she retorted. “But do be careful, Evelyne. Men like Lord Bavrick don’t take kindly to being toyed with.”
“Fortunately, I have no intention of toying with anyone,” she replied coolly. “That would imply a level of interest that simply isn’t there.”
“Well,” Alaric interrupted, raising his glass, “I believe we can all agree that tonight’s company has been… entertaining. Shall we have more wine?”
Evelyne nodded as she took another sip, catching Callista’s look of sour discontent.Good.
As the evening wound down and guests began to leave, Alaric offered to escort Evelyne to the entrance hall. The gesture was simple, but she found it comforting.
“Might you come by for tea tomorrow?” Evelyne blurted before fully considering the implications of her actions.
He hesitated, studying her with that same searching look from before. It wasn’t intimidating, just deep, as if he were considering the weight of what she offered. The silence that followed prickled at her nerves.
In a rush to explain herself, she added, “It’s just… It would be nice to have tea with a friend instead of listening to my mother’s endless complaints.”
Alaric stepped closer, lowering his head as he gently took her trembling hand in his. His lips brushed softly against her knuckles. “It would be an honor to join you, Evelyne,” he said softly.
The way he spoke her name without any formal title sent a peculiar thrill through her. It felt affectionate, almost seductive, and she couldn’t suppress the blush that rose to her cheeks.
“Goodnight,” he murmured before takinghis leave.
Evelyne remained where he had left her, heart pounding. The unexpected invitation, the heat of his touch, and the sincerity in his voice all left her feeling flustered and strange.
Chapter 8
The gardens of Duskwood Manor were quiet except for the faint rustle of leaves and the occasional bird call. Cillian welcomed the silence and the warm spring air that brushed his face as he walked.
That woman.Her beauty lingered like a splinter in his mind, impossible to dislodge. Who was she? How had she known his name? Perhaps he was losing his sanity. It wouldn’t be the first time someone in his family had.
Cillian tilted his head back, closing his eyes to soak in the sun’s warmth. But as quickly as it came, the light vanished, swallowed by thick gray clouds, and a heavy pressure bore down on him. Pain struck, sharp and sudden, blurring his vision as the edges of the garden warped, twisting into darkness. A piercing headache pounded in time with his heartbeat. His legs threatened to buckle. He clutched his head, a raw groan ripping from his throat as the world folded in, collapsing until there was nothing.
His name echoed somewhere in the distance, but all he could do was watch as black mist coiled through his mind and soul, circling like a predator ready to pounce. Just as the dizziness and pain threatened to pull him under, steady hands caught him, grounding him for the briefest moment. He didn’t see who it was, only that someone was there as he began to fall. But what burned into his mind before the darkness claimed him was the image of an ancient, sorrowful tree.
***
When he woke, his surroundings were different. The garden’s fresh air was replaced by the faint smell of lavender and herbs in his room. A cool cloth touched his forehead, but he quickly swatted it away.
