Evelyne raised an eyebrow. “You must practice these lines in front of a mirror, Mr. Stonebridge. How else could they sound so rehearsed?”
His laugh was soft, genuine, and infuriatingly appealing. “And here I thought my charm would win you over.”
“Not today, I’m afraid,” Evelyne retorted, though she couldn’t entirely suppress the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
Before Alaric could reply, Aurelia reappeared, looping her arm through Evelyne’s. “Oh, Evelyne, why must you talk that way to such a handsome suitor?” She flashed a smile.
Evelyne cast her sister a pointed look. “Perhaps you’d care to take my place, Aurelia? No one has mastered the art of beguiling men so diligently as you.”
Alaric chuckled, inclining his head toward Aurelia. “Your sister wounds with words swifter than any sword, yet I wouldn’t change a thing about her.”
Evelyne folded her arms. “I’m sure you wouldn’t. It keeps you on your toes, after all.”
There was a momentary pause, and then Evelyne’s expression softened just enough to show that, beneath their banter, she valued Alaric’s friendship. He returned the look with a faint nod, a sign of mutual understanding, before resuming the playful veneer.
“Well,” Alaric said, straightening his waistcoat, “if you’ll excuse me, I believe I have an audience to entertain. Ladies, it has been a pleasure.” With a wink, he turned and strode toward another corner of the garden.
“You two are impossible.” Aurelia tugged Evelyne’s arm. “Let’s grab some tea before Mother finds us again.”
Evelyne drifted toward the refreshment table, releasing a quiet sigh as she noted the thinning crowd. At last, the luncheon seemed to be drawing to its close, and for the first time all day she dared believe she might escape unscathed. The dreaded Lord Bavrick had not appeared—a small mercy in an otherwise tedious affair.
“I’ll leave you to it,” Aurelia whispered, slipping away.
“What? Why—”
“Lady Evelyne, such a pleasure to see you.”
Her stomach dropped, apprehension coiling in her chest. She turned slowly to find Ivan Bavrick far too close, his fixed grin stretched across a face already tinged with wine. Instinct drew her back a step, though he pressed forward, his presence cloying. At his side stood his younger brother, Wesley, auburn-haired and striking enough to remind Evelyne of their elegant mother. At least one Bavrick brother was not unpleasant to look at.
“Lord Bavrick.” Evelyne offered a polite curtsey. “I trust you’re enjoying the event.”
“Oh, immensely,” Ivan replied before launching into his favorite subject—the recent triumphs of his estate. His words droned in relentless, mind-numbing detail, while Evelyne fixed a smile in place, nodding at intervals as her thoughts drifted elsewhere.
Her eyes flicked to Wesley, who stood beside his brother with a distinctly disinterested air. He had grown since their last meeting, his boyish features giving way to a strong jawline and a muscular frame that spoke of his time outdoors. Freckles dotted his nose, and there was a spark in his greeneyes as they roamed the gathering, more intrigued by the young women flitting about than his brother’s lecture. When their eyes met, Wesley’s lipsformed an easy smile. He interrupted Ivan without hesitation.
“Lady Evelyne, you likely don’t remember me. Wesley Bavrick. We met years ago, though I was hardly worth noticing then.”
“On the contrary, Lord Wesley, I do remember. You were rather… energetic as a boy.”
“And now?” he asked with a playful tilt of his head. “Do I still exude energy, or have I finally reached a state of dignified calm?”
“Dignified? Not yet,” Evelyne replied.
“But you’ve certainly improved.”
Wesley grinned. “I’ll take that as high praise.”
Ivan cleared his throat loudly, clearly annoyed. “As I was saying—”
“Brother,” Wesley interrupted again, his voice entirely too jovial. “Forgive me, but I must know, Lady Evelyne, how you’ve attended these events for so long without becoming dreadfully bored. Is there some secret tonic you take?”
Evelyne laughed softly. “Tonic? Hardly. Though, a healthy sense of humor does wonders for endurance.”
“Ah, then I must double my efforts to entertain,” Wesley quipped. “Your laughter is worth every ounce of it.”
“Just be careful not to strain yourself. I’d hate to be responsible for your exhaustion.”
“Oh, don’t worry.” Wesley leaned slightly closer. “I’ve always had plenty of stamina.”
