“And what merit would that be?” He paused at a bench that sat beside a peaceful fountain, the sound of trickling water acting as a tonic to his somewhat disarrayed mind.
Octavia sat down. “She is an Earl’s daughter, for one thing, which makes her a suitable match. She is so very amusing. I have not chuckled like that in some time. And she is uncommonly pretty, perhaps not in the obvious way that Miss Parsons is, but Evelyn is undeniably beautiful in her own right.”
“Amusing?” Hugo frowned.
Did every person who encountered Evelyn receive a different version of her? To Selina, Evelyn embodied the very essence of capability, possessed of an immense list of merits and attributes and somewhat unusual qualities. To Octavia, Evelyn seemed to be a lively, entertaining presence, easy to warm to, easy to get along with. To Hugo, Evelyn was a conundrum, and a combative one at that.
“You probably scared the humor out of her with all of your flirting,” Octavia remarked with a knowing smirk. “She does not seem too comfortable in the company of gentlemen, but I can understand that well enough.”
Hugo glanced at his sister with a heavy heart, for though she seemed joyful and at ease, he knew that the recent past still troubled her. There had been an incident two years prior, in which an unpleasant gentleman had tried to ruin her. Hugo’s friend, Laurence, had stepped in to rescue Octavia, and there had been a duel to maintain her honor. All had been resolved, but she certainly still carried those grim events with her. Indeed, she had not even entertained the idea of courtship or dancing with a gentleman ever since.
At first, he had thought it was because she still harbored some unrequited feelings for Laurence, who had married his beloved Joan, but the more time went on, the less certain he became. Rather, it seemed more likely that she just did not trust society’s gentlemen at all.
“Consider her,” Octavia said with a smile. “I think you are more alike than you realize… and possibly just as stubborn. Then again, I have only just met her. I shall have to arrange that tea so I can get to know her better, andthenI shall offer my full opinion.”
Hugo smiled tightly. “I look forward to it.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Evelyn shuddered at the sound of the bell ringing for dinner, her head still feeling as if it were stuffed with wool. She had not felt quite herself since returning from the garden party the previous evening, suffering a rather interminable headache and an unsettled stomach.
Naturally, her family had accused her of imbibing too much at the garden party and had not listened when she had tried to explain that she had not had anything intoxicating to drink at all. She had had one glass of lemonade and one cup of ice, but they continued to insist that she must have snuck some brandy or port when Luke was not looking.
She was just splashing her face with some of the cold water in the basin when a knock came at the door.
Puzzled, she turned. “Come in.”
The door opened to reveal Luke, wearing a particularly grim expression. “Did you not hear the bell? Dinner is about to be served.”
“I was going to wash my hands and face first,” she replied curtly.
“Well, hurry yourself along. We have a guest.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What guest? No one mentioned anyone coming to dinner.”
“It was Father’s idea,” Luke replied, his mouth tense. “He has invited a potential suitor for you. I did not know of it until this afternoon, but you were asleep, so I could not forewarn you. If you had not imbibed so much yesterday, perhaps I could have prepared you.”
Her heart dropped into her stomach. In all the confusion of Hugo and his vengeful flirtations, she had almost forgotten that her father was plotting to make her miserable existence even more dismal. If nothing else, she had not expected her father to find someone so swiftly.
“But… I am unwell,” she said, unable to hide the note of desperation in her voice.
Luke furrowed his brow and glanced back over his shoulder, as if he was contemplating doing something to help. Then, he gave a slight shake of his head and looked at his sister once more.
“I am sorry, Evelyn,” he said. “The gentleman is here and Father is most insistent that you should meet him this evening. I believe he is only in the city for a short while.”
“He has no residence here?”
Luke shrugged. “I do not know.”
“I shall have to live in the country?”
“I do not know,” he repeated.
She did not mind the countryside, but she preferred to have a choice. It was the same with marriage: she did not mind the idea of it, but she preferred to have a choice in the matter.
“Just… hurry up,” Luke said, his eyes pinched at the corners as if, somewhere within him, it pained him to be the one to facilitate whatever was to come.
He did not close the door but moved down the landing and waited like a prison guard. Perhaps he thought she might attempt to flee out of the window or that she might vanish through willpower alone.
