Leaning forward in her chair, Octavia took his hand and gripped it tightly. “Do not think about what you should have done or what cannot be changed. Concentrate on what youcando now. Put that occasionally intellectual mind to good use and figure out how to woo her, so that you do not live your life in regret, andsheis not forced into a miserable future with the baron.”
“But I should have told her,” Hugo insisted, thinking of that night in his bedchamber. “I have had so many opportunities to be honest with her, to confess to her, and I have not.”
“I suspect you did not know how you felt, not truly,” Octavia said, as wise as ever. “You have never been in love before, brother.”
He tilted his head, squinting at her. “How do you know?”
“Because I know you,” she replied, chuckling. “I am aware that you are very popular with theton’sladies and that you have no lack of charm and flirtation, but that is not love. That is a charade. That is amusement. Entertainment.Thisis real.”
He held onto her hands as tightly as she held his. “What do I do?”
Octavia hesitated, a small line appearing between her eyebrows. “Well, first of all, I suggest you inform Miss Parsons of your feelings for her friend, or that shall not end pleasantly.” She pulled a face. “After that, you shall have to think of a way to begin your suit. I am afraid I cannot help you there.”
“But she does not respond to my usual manner of attracting a lady,” he said, furrowing his brow.
“Which is precisely why you must be honest with her. Authentic,” Octavia urged. “You cannot hide behind your charm this time.”
Hugo drew in a deep breath and slowly exhaled, overwhelmed by the enormity of the task ahead of him. What was more; he had no idea if Evelyn felt the same. All he had to encourage him was the fact that she had been wearing his necklace. Surely, that had to mean something?
“Why do I feel like this is about to be the hardest thing I have ever done?” he said with a nervous smile.
Octavia grinned back at him. “Because this is love, brother. No one ever said it was easy.”
There was no word in the English language, as far as Evelyn knew, that would ever be able to encompass the squirming discomfort that plagued her as she sat at the dining table inMiles’ apartments. Aside from her family, the guests were all strangers, and all seemed to have been told to interrogate her thoroughly, lest she dare to enjoy a single mouthful of her food in peace.
The worst culprit, however, was the asthmatic, rotund, sharp-tongued woman who sat beside her, chewing her food so loudly and with such enthusiastic lip smacks that Evelyn could no longer bear it. One more wet, unpleasant sound and she would explode.
“Why are you not eating?” the old woman, Miles’ mother, asked with a mouthful of white fish.
Evelyn’s stomach lurched. “I have a small appetite.”
“That will not do. We eat heartily in the country. Perhaps once you are situated, the fresh air will encourage you to eat more,” the dowager baroness said, swallowing. “You must be in good health if you are to carry my son’s heirs.”
Evelyn’s stomach lurched again, for a very different reason.
In truth, she longed to excuse herself, and would not have to tell any great lie that she was not feeling well, but she doubted her father would take kindly to such an action. He certainly would not permit her to journey the short distance back the townhouse unaccompanied.
I cannot do this. Oh, heaven help me, I cannot do any of this.
She touched the small, dewdrop jewels that formed pleasing bumps along the chains of her necklace, taking comfort in the smooth shape and skin-warmed temperature of them. Considering she had sworn to wear the jewelry only once, it had quickly become something of a habit to reach for the small blue jewels whenever she felt overwhelmed.
“Have you spent much time in the country?” Miles’ mother continued, Evelyn cringing as the woman stabbed another piece of fish with her fork.
“In my childhood, yes,” Evelyn replied. “And, recently, I attended a house party in the countryside.”
“Yes, of course, I have heard all about that. Apparently, you got yourself into a fair amount of trouble while riding.Thatwill not do, either.” The woman shoved the forkful into her mouth, and the infuriating chewing began afresh. “Do you ride much?”
Evelyn took her glass of wine and downed a large gulp. “Not as much as I would like to.”
“Evidently,” the woman said, tutting. “Well, that can be remedied. We have exemplary stables. I am sure there will be a suitable horse for you there, though you cannot ridetoomuch; it is bad for a woman when she is trying to conceive.”
A furious flush of embarrassment flooded Evelyn’s cheeks, so sudden and intense that she nearly choked on her mouthful of wine. Perhaps Miles’ mother had been in the countrysidetoo long if she thought that this was appropriate dinner conversation.
“You are very fortunate to be marrying my son,” the dowager baroness continued, through smacking chomps. “He isquitethe admired gentleman in our nearest town. There are at least twenty ladies who would give a great deal to exchange places with you, so I trust you will enter into this union with that in mind. Do not forget yourself or think yourself superior because you are from the city.”
Evelyn’s eye twitched. “I would not dream of it, Lady Hemstich.”
Just saying that name made her insides twist into wretched knots, for once she was married to Miles, that would behertitle: Lady Hemstich. A baroness. Expected to sit beside this uncouth woman at every meal, no doubt, listening to that awful, ill-mannered sound of chewing.
