No, the baronwasthe best a woman like her could manage in this life, with the cards she had been dealt. It had been a losing hand from the start.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“Where are you going?” Octavia halted Hugo on the threshold of the manor, and he cursed under his breath.
In all of the chaos of the morning and the fog of his thoughts, he had forgotten about his sister. For the first time in his entire life, she had not been at the forefront of his mind, and the guilt of that was quick to ambush him.
“I… have to return to London in haste,” he replied, turning with one of his usual, cavalier smiles. “I was going to leave word with the housekeeper for you to return in the carriage, while I would take my horse.”
Octavia narrowed her eyes. He should have known that he would not be able to get away with lying to her, even by omission. She knew him better than anyone in the world, and he was definitely not acting like himself today.
“You are not going back without me,” Octavia said decisively. “You can wait half an hour until everything is packed. I do not like to travel alone; you know this.”
He grimaced, for it was true. In her childhood, she had suffered from a terrible fear of journeying anywhere in the carriage, for it was the one place where their father was guaranteed to lose his temper with her. Even when she had done nothing wrong, just her breathing or her movements upon the squabs could send him into a fury.
What is the matter with me?He swept a hand through his hair, feeling entirely unmoored. Indeed, why was he in such a rush to speak to Evelyn? The wedding would not take place for a month; he had plenty of time to ask her if this was truly her decision for the future. Besides, he would undoubtedly cross paths with her at some ball or other, or even during his last outing with Selina. Evelyn had accompanied her friend to the rest of them, so why not the final one?
“What is wrong, brother?” Octavia came closer, squinting at him. “You look pale. Sweaty. Are you unwell?”
If madness is a sickness, then yes…
“Not at all. I just remembered that I have a meeting I am supposed to attend, and I hate to rush to such things, for I am certain these men of business judge me when I am ill-prepared,” he explained with a tight laugh.
She remained obviously unconvinced, searching his face. “This would not have anything to do with my good friend Evelyn’s early departure, would it?”
“What? No, of course not. Why should that be any concern of mine?” he hurried to reply, a little too effusive. “Everyone is leaving today. Her departure, early or late, has not even crossed my mind.”
Octavia nodded slowly, making a faint ‘humph’ of suspicion. “Well, that is a pity. For a moment, I hoped you might be about to chase after her and make a heroic confession of affection. I reallymustrefrain from reading so many of those novels that Joan let me borrow.” There was mischief in her eyes that caused a faint burning in his cheeks. “Come, you can help me pack the rest of my things sowecan depart.”
“Of course,” he said stiffly, his gaze flitting toward the driveway and the vision in his mind of catching up to Evelyn’s carriage.
Do not be ridiculous. What would you do if you caught up to her?He waited for an answer to come, but it did not.Exactly.
Expelling a strained breath that did nothing to ease the tight feeling in his chest, he turned away from the door and followed his sister up the stairs. It seemed his talk with Evelyn would have to wait for a more natural opportunity.
“What are you doing?” Evelyn’s father stood in the doorway of the drawing room with a face like thunder. More thunderous than usual, anyway.
Evelyn glanced up from the novel she had been trying to escape into, though she must have read the same page at least ten times, the dashing romantic hero somehow blurring into the shape of Hugo, forcing her to begin again. Sometimes, the heroine transformed into Selina in her mind. Sometimes, her brain permitted her to picture herself, though it was not as vivid.
“Reading,” she replied, holding up the book.
“You should not be doing that,” he snapped. “You should be preparing for dinner.”
It had been four days since the family’s grim return from Ashcroft, and life had picked up where it had left off. Luke had not attempted to speak to her again, though he avoided her eye at meals. Matthew had been his usual, snide self. And her father had done his best to ignore her, aside from a few huffs and puffs of irritation. The matter of the baron, Miles, had not been mentioned at all, lulling her into a false sense of security.
“Dinner?” Evelyn quirked an eyebrow.
Her father’s face darkened. “Do not look at me with such an obnoxious expression, girl.” Clearly, something had riled him. “I told you about dinner with Lord Hemstich this evening. I told you that you must make an effort to look your best. Do not pretend that I did not.”
She did not have to pretend, for her father certainly hadnotinformed her of such a dinner. If he had, she would not have been reading in relative peace; rather, she would have been upstairs in her bedchamber in a state of abject dread, her face so drained of color that no amount of rouge or cheek-pinching would have remedied it.
“He is coming here?” Evelyn croaked.
Tension twitched every muscle in her father’s face. “We are going to his apartments, as I have already told you countless times! We shall meet with his mother, and I believe he has invited a few other acquaintances.”
His mother?Evelyn’s stomach lurched. After four days of tricking herself into believing that this was not happening, the engagement and the marriage had just become sickeningly real.
“Get up, girl!” her father barked, and she did, jumping to her feet.
