Goodness, why did I not think of that?
“How are you feeling?” he asked Evelyn, determined that she would not ignore him.
She looked straight through him, her throat bobbing. “Hungry.”
Skirting around him, she took hold of Selina’s arm and grabbed for Octavia’s hand, leading the two women into the drawing room. With a steadying breath, Hugo followed.
Twenty minutes later, he came to the full and frustrating realization that Evelyn was going to do everything within her power to evade him tonight. She had become quite the social butterfly, mingling with the other guests, engaging everyone in conversation, graciously accepting congratulations, and he might have believed there had been a true transformation if he did not know her better than that.
This was Evelyn’s idea of a nightmare, yet she was acting like Selina.
Well, this will not do.
“What are you waiting for?” Octavia whispered, as if reading his mind. “The baron has not arrived yet. You should speak to her before he does.”
Selina appeared on the other side of him. “Now, Your Grace!” she hissed. “She is alone at the drinks table.”
Swallowing a mouthful of champagne, Hugo brushed the moisture from his lips and cut through the increasing crowd to reach Evelyn. She bristled as he approached, as if she could sense him. Had she been a cat, her ears would have flicked back and forth, her tail swishing a warning.
“It is a fine party, Evelyn,” he said.
“I am glad you think so,” she replied, keeping her back to him as she scooped lemonade into a glass.
“Evelyn, would you look at me,” he urged.
“I do not need to. I know what you look like.”
A muscle twitched in his jaw, his hands clenched in exasperation. What threat did she believe he posed to her? What was the reason for all of this animosity?
“Evelyn, I was wondering if I might have a word with you,” he tried again. “On the terrace, perhaps. It really is rather urgent, and I?—”
At that moment, a footman appeared at the drawing room door, ringing a jarring bell as he declared, “Ladies and gentlemen, dinner is served.”
Hugo cursed under his breath and shot a dark look at the footman, as if he was personally responsible for the unfortunate timing of the dinner.
Meanwhile, all around the room came the confused murmur of the other guests, perhaps twenty of them in total. It was understandable, considering the future husband was not yet in attendance. Did the baron mean to make some sort of grand entrance? He did not seem like the sort.
He glanced back at Evelyn, but she was already moving away, slipping past him on swift feet to get to the drawing room door. From the other side of the room, Octavia and Selina rolled their eyes at him.
I would like to see you try to speak to someone who does not want to be spoken to!He huffed out a breath and, refreshing his determination, he followed the rest of the crowd out into the hallway and down the passage to the dining room.
There, it became obvious why the baron had not been present in the drawing room. He was already seated at the head of the dining table, with an old lady on his right and Evelyn’s father on his left. Matthew and Luke took the seats beside their father, while Evelyn wandered the table with a frown, a slight grimace twisting her face as she found her place.
She was to sit beside the old woman. The baron’s mother, no doubt.
“We are here,” Octavia said, gesturing to two chairs that could not have been further away from Evelyn.
How great a scandal would it cause if I just confessed right here and now, in front of everyone?Hugo considered the idea, ratherliked it in truth, but figured Evelyn would not appreciate a public declaration of his love. She might have said she wanted someone who would not be afraid to show that she was loved, but causing a ripple through society and its gossipmongers likely was not what she had had in mind.
So with some reluctance, he sat down at his sister’s side and decided to be patient instead.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
No dinner had ever dragged on quite so relentlessly, course after course being set before the guests until, at number nine, most of the table were beginning to look somewhat uncomfortable. Conversation had dwindled, several people kept checking the clock on the mantelpiece, and any celebratory air had long been forgotten, regardless of how frequently the servants refilled glasses with wine.
Hugo had not taken his eyes off Evelyn the entire time, though she had not sought his gaze once. She had picked at her food, leaving most of it, but she still managed to have the look of someone who felt rather unwell.
Holding his belly, Josiah Bartlett lurched to his feet and raised his glass in the air. “I would like to profess my gratitude for your presence this evening, to celebrate the engagement between my daughter and Lord Hemstich.” He paused. “To their… happy union.”
