Page 95 of The Siren of Sussex

Evelyn had heard the name from Anne before. “Not the one with the brood of illegitimate children?”

“And the haunted estate in Yorkshire,” Stella said. “His reputation precedes him. Everyone knows he’s seeking a drudge he can take north with him.”

Julia looked rather dazed. “He walked right up to me.”

“What did he say?” Anne asked.

“I don’t know,” Julia replied numbly. “There was a roaring in my ears and I couldn’t breathe. I thought I might faint.”

Anne winced. “You didn’t, did you?”

“Indeed, she did not.” Stella rubbed Julia’s arm in reassurance. “She walked out of the ballroom with her head held high. And she’s much better now, aren’t you, dear?”

Julia groaned. “You should have seen how he looked at me. He was disgusted, I know it.”

“Soldiers don’t approve of swooning ladies,” Anne said. “Not unless the soldier is young and gallant.”

“And Captain Blunt is neither.” Stella rose from her seat beside Julia, allowing Anne to take her place.

“He caught you by surprise, that’s all,” Anne said. “I wonder what he was playing at?”

“Perhaps he was merely expressing an interest?” Evelyn suggested. “It wouldn’t be surprising. You look very beautiful this evening.”

It was the truth. Julia was wearing a cornflower crepe ball gown. Overflounced and overembellished, it was nothing to compare with Ahmad’s design, but the color caught the brilliance of Julia’s blue eyes, making them sparkle like polished sapphires.

“You do,” Anne concurred. “But Captain Blunt, of all people? I can’t like it.”

“Nor I,” Stella said. “He was with Lord Ridgeway, after all. And we know what Ridgeway’s like.”

Evelyn stood back from them, feeling out of her element.

Her three new friends had years of history with the gentlemen in question. If not by experience, then by reputation. They knew who was a fiend and who was a rake. Who was likely to abuse his horses, and who was in need of a drudge to look after his haunted house full of by-blows.

Meanwhile, all Evelyn knew was that, among those fiends, rakes, and libertines, she had to find a husband. And, as much as she wanted to remain with her new friends, she wasn’t going to find one hiding in here.

Stella exchanged a glance with her. It appeared her thoughts were tending in the same direction. “We should return to the ballroom.”

“Oh, I can’t!” Julia cried. “Not yet.”

“You and Evie can go,” Anne said to Stella. “I’ll sit with Julia awhile until she regains her courage.”

Stella accompanied Evelyn out of the room, drawing the door shut behind them. “You must understand,” she said, as they made their way back down the corridor, “Julia’s shyness isn’t only in her head. It manifests in her body like a sickness. A crowded ballroom is akin to torture for her.”

“It was brave of her to come tonight.”

“She hasn’t any choice. Her parents expect her to exert herself this season. The only excuse they’ll accept is one of ill health. It’s why she takes to her bed when things become too much for her.”

“The way she did last week?”

Stella nodded. “Pity she can’t do so with more regularity. But pleading illness in the Wychwood household comes with dangers of its own. Her parents subscribe to all manner of quackery. Even worse, they’re strong believers in bloodletting. It’s the price Julia pays every time she pretends to be unwell.”

A shiver traced down Evelyn’s spine. She couldn’t abide bloodletting. The village doctor in Combe Regis knew better than to even suggest it to her. “It sounds awful.”

“It is awful. And quite a shame, really. Julia is so sweet and good-natured, but more and more, her condition defeats her. This crippling shyness and anxiety. Anne says it will take a special gentleman to break the spell.”

A special gentleman.

The phrase swirled around in Evelyn’s head, conjuring an image, not of some illusive unknown, but of a man who was very much recognizable. A man with black hair and broad shoulders, standing close—breathlessly close—as he drew his cloth measuring tape snugly around her midriff.