“Oh heavens, what has happened?” Octavia’s voice interrupted the sincere moment, as she walked in with a maid behind her, who carried a tea tray that was absolutely laden with cakes.
Selina’s demeanor shifted, some ice returning to her veins. A protective habit, or so Evelyn realized. It was not that Selina wanted to be cold toward Octavia; it truly appeared to be something beyond her control. An instinct.
She has suffered too,Evelyn reminded herself.
There had been relative poverty in Selina’s life, during her formative years. She sometimes mentioned those moments in passing: that her father was always concerned about losing the manor, that there was never money for anything, that everything was in a state of disrepair, that belongings were always being sold. It was all because of one lucky investment that her father’s fortunes had boomed and they had been elevated to their respected position in society.
It was somewhat frowned upon for gentlemen to work, but Selina’s father wore it as a badge of honor. Now, other gentlemen, men who might be secretly struggling with their own fortune, came to him to seek advice.
“I was just saying how unfair it is that my friend has no alternative, when she is so… remarkable,” Selina said stiffly. “I cannot comprehend why shyness is considered a fault.”
Octavia seemed surprised by the answer, as she came to sit on the side of the bed once more. “I could not agree more, Miss Parsons.” She glanced curiously at Evelyn. “If therewasan alternative, Evelyn, would you seize the opportunity?”
“It would depend,” Evelyn replied, suddenly feeling cornered. “If the alternative was no better than Lord Hemstich, then why bother? If the alternative was an… improvement, then perhaps I would muster the courage.”
If the alternative was Hugo, however, I do not think I would ever be able to find the courage.She discreetly observed Selina, knowing that, if such an impossibility ever came to pass, shewould not exchange her friendship for the hope of a brighter future.Thatwas a ruthlessness she simply did not possess and in the cutthroat game of the marriage market, she would never dare to lift a blade to stab a dear friend in the back.
Perhaps that, far more than shyness, was the reason she had had no success these past three years, and why she had no choice but to accept that she would, one day soon, most likely be the Baroness of Hemstich.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“How is she?” an unexpected voice asked from the shadow of a nearby hallway that branched off from the entrance hall.
It was dark outside, a half-moon tingeing the world silver, and though everyone would soon retire for the evening, there was still laughter and music drifting from the drawing room. The perfect moment, or so Hugo had thought, for him to slip away.
“Pardon?” He turned to find Luke standing there, fidgeting like a schoolboy who was about to get a whipping from the headmaster.
Luke stepped forward. “My sister. How is she? I heard she returned from town early due to a malady.”
“Why not ask her yourself?” Hugo replied.
“I… do not know how,” Luke replied, with surprising frankness.
As far as Hugo was aware, Evelyn was in the music room with Octavia, Selina, and Frances. By the sound of it, they were taking turns at the pianoforte, and though he had not been inside the room to hear it for himself, he could have guessed which piece was Evelyn’s: perfectly played, mellifluous and heartfelt, beautiful enough to stop a man in his tracks and make him want to hear more.
“Then learn,” Hugo replied gruffly, eager to make his way upstairs before everyone else began heading for bed.
Luke swept a hand through his hair. “It is not that easy.”
Hugo did not have time to waste, instructing a grown man how to behave toward his sister. Surely, it was instinctive? Then again, he had occasionally wondered how he might have turned out if he had become more like his father, instead of wanting to do everything possible to be the opposite.
“Just… be kind,” Hugo said, one hand on the newel post. “Treat her as if she were another lady of theton. Behave with courtesy, with respect, and it should become as natural as breathing, to be nice to her instead of constantly making her feel insignificant.”
Luke frowned. “I can try that.”
“See that you do.” Hugo’s gaze flitted up the stairs. “But as far as I am aware, she is not suffering any lasting effects.”
From your treatment of herorthe injury to her ankle…
“Thank you,” Luke said with a breath of relief.
“Do not thank me,” Hugo chided. “Do better.”
A flicker of irritation passed across Luke’s eyes, but he did not attempt to challenge Hugo as he had done in the woods. Instead, the man dipped his head and retreated back into the shadow of the hallway, moving toward the sweet music that drifted out of the music room.
Hugo waited to see if Luke would knock and heed his advice, but the man did not. He pressed on toward the drawing room instead, and Hugo did not have time to march after him and insist on him speaking with Evelyn at once.
Maybe he will begin to do better tomorrow.
