“And just where are you going in such a rush?” Her father was in the hallway, looking as if he had just come in from a walk.
Evelyn cursed under her breath, for she had hoped that her father and brothers would all be out. She had asked yesterday if she would be permitted to accompany Selina on a promenade,but the response had been so dismissive that she knew they would feign ignorance if she mentioned it again today.
“I am late to meet Miss Parsons,” she said, as vaguely as she could, as she stopped to fasten her ribbons.
Her father narrowed his eyes. “You have been spending an awful lot of time with this Miss Parsons.”
“She is my friend.”
“Yes, well, you should be spending less time with friends and more time trying to find yourself a husband,” he replied tersely. “You cannot end this Season unmarried, Evelyn. It is an embarrassment.”
She considered pointing out that her brothers were not married either, and they were older than her, but there would be little use in it. They were gentlemen; they had all the time in the world to seek out brides.
Nor did you bother to remarry, Father.That was a subject never broached. Josiah Bartlett did not speak of his deceased wife and did not permit anyone else to speak of her, as if she had never existed. Long ago, when she was perhaps five or six, she had made the mistake of asking about her mother, whom she could not remember at all. Her father had sent her to her room for four days and commanded everyone to ignore her for a week after that. It was a lesson she had never forgotten.
“Miss Parsons is helping me to find a husband,” Evelyn lied, putting on her most affable smile.
At that, her father’s expression relaxed ever so slightly. “Well, see that she makes a success of it, for heaven knows neither I nor your brothers have any notion of what to do with you.”
It was, perhaps, the most honest assessment her father had ever given of his daughter’s position in this household, even though she knew he had not meant it in that way.
“Yes, Father.” Evelyn dipped her head in respect and slipped past him, her heart racing as she headed out of the door. Indeed, she was half-expecting him to call her back and change his mind, feeling as if he had not punished her enough lately.
So it was something of a relief when she entered the carriage unhindered and felt it pull away from the prison that she was forced to call ‘home'.
Hyde Park looked undeniably beautiful in the warmth of the early summer afternoon, the plane trees in full green plumage, dispersing motes of pollen like hazy snow. Everyone seemed to have had the same notion about enjoying the pleasant day in the outdoors, as ladies wandered together beneath the shade of parasols, and gentlemen strutted along with admiring gazes, while a few were riding and making Hugo rather jealous.
I could escape the discomfort far more swiftly upon horseback.
His companion was as distant as she had been at the opera, but it washercompanion that perturbed him more. Where Lady Evelyn had been inappropriately talkative during their previous encounter, she was now oddly silent. It unnerved him to have her walking a few paces behind, saying nothing, making no attempt to wedge herself into the conversation or to pull Miss Parsons into a discussion.
“Do you prefer London or the countryside, Miss Parsons?” he said, figuring he ought to at least be civil.
Selina glanced at him. “The countryside. The city is oppressive.”
“Even here?”
She shrugged. “I find there is too much artifice in the parks of London.”
“I find there is too much artifice in the people who wander in such parks,” he said with a smile.
Selina glanced back at Evelyn. “My friend has a similar opinion. She believes that society itself is a construct built on the shaky foundations of artifice. Tell His Grace what you told me last week, when we were at Lady Whittaker’s gathering. That thing about not looking too closely.”
Hugo could not help but follow Selina’s gaze toward the peculiar young woman, now wearing a rather simple day dress of pale yellow that did nothing for her complexion. Then again, she had a rather… unexpected complexion to begin with: not alabaster pale as if one had never seen the sun, which seemed to be the fashion, but the color of a country lass who spent long hours in the fields. Pink-cheeked, with a fine sweep of freckles, her color was rather warm and pleasant.
Her dark blue eyes, a hue lighter than a good sapphire, were turned down, like there was more of interest to be found on the ground than across the lush expanse of Hyde Park. And from beneath her bonnet, silky curls of chestnut brown could just be seen.
She is actually rather pretty. Very pretty, in fact,he mused absently. He had not noticed before, but then it was somewhat difficult to pay attention to her when she had a friend as commandingly beautiful as Miss Parsons. It was harder still to recognize Lady Evelyn’s beauty when she had said such outlandish things to him the other night.
“Evie?” Selina prompted. “Tell His Grace that thing about society.”
Evelyn raised her gaze and the hazy sunlight hit her in just the right way, making Hugo’s attention linger a while longer. “Oh… I have forgotten it now.”
“You? You never forget anything,” Selina said with an awkward laugh.
“And what isyouropinion of society?” Hugo said, in an attempt to divert Selina’s attention back to him… and his own attention away from the continually strange behavior of Lady Evelyn.
Where had all of her fire gone? Where was the determined creature who had so intently schooled him just a few days ago? Where was the real Evelyn, behind this mask of meekness? After all, he could not very well chide her for her previous conduct if there was no sign of the woman that had caused him such restlessness, such outrage.
