Page 27 of Evie and Louis: The Story so Far

Georgie and Evie made a circuit of the ballroom, greeting friends and accepting invitations to dance. These they noted on pretty mother-of-pearl fans which served as dance cards. So far, Georgie had invitations from the Duke of Bedwin, Jules, Nicolas Alexandre Demarteau, and the one she’d already gained from his half-brother, the comte. She’d not seen the Comte de Villen yet, though he must be here somewhere. You could hide a herd of elephants in this crush. The Duchess of Bedwin’s annual Christmas ball was the event of the festive season and anyone who was anyone was here.

The sound of sniggering and the sensation of Evie stiffening beside her gained Georgie’s attention, and she turned to see a group of five pretty debutantes, giggling and whispering behind their fans. That she and Evie were at the centre of their amusement, she did not doubt. She supposed they made an odd pair, with her towering over diminutive Evie.

“No, no, Goliath and his fat pony,” said the nearest girl, not bothering to lower her voice as the others went off into peals of laughter.

“Oh, I know,” said another, bouncing on her toes. “Lofty and Dumpling.”

“Just ignore them,” Evie said with a sigh, cheeks blazing.

Suddenly, the whispering and giggling subsided, and an awed hush fell over the girls. Georgie looked to see what had taken their attention and saw the Comte de Villen moving purposely through the crowd. Though—and despite scolding herself soundly for it—she’d been hoping to see the less elegant figure of the Duke of Rochford heading towards her, Georgie’s breath still caught. Heavens, but he was beautiful. He looked like a young god moving among mere mortals. Everyone turned to look at him as he passed, their gazes drawn to him whether or not they wanted to be.

The debutantes sighed and batted their eyelashes as well as their fans, trying to gain his notice, and he ignored them utterly. The comte’s gaze seemed fixed on Evie, his expression intent.

“Lady Georgina, Miss Knight. May I say how lovely you both look this evening,” he said, giving them a very formal bow. He barely glanced at Georgie, his gaze lingering on Evie a touch longer than it ought, apparently taking in every detail of the gown she wore.

They curtsied, and Georgie returned a wry smile. “Thank you, monsieur. I’m afraid the young ladies did not agree with you. What was it, Evie? Lofty and Dumpling?”

The comte’s face darkened, and he turned to regard the young women, his expression cool. “Silly children,” he remarked, a comment nicely designed to set them down a peg whilst doing no harm to their reputations. “I hope you will heed my opinion over theirs. You are both exceptionally lovely.”

The cluster of young women gasped, flushing with embarrassment, and one let out a sob of mortification as they all hurried away.

“Thank you, Louis,” Evie whispered.

His gaze shot back to hers. “Monsieur le Comte,” he reminded her, his voice hard.

Evie flushed at the reprimand, and his expression softened. “Will you dance with me, Miss Knight?”

Evie relaxed, smiling up at him. “Oh, of course. I’d love to.”

“Thank you for the dance, Monsieur Le Comte,” Evie said, grinning at Louis César. She adored dancing with Louis, for he was a marvellous partner and always made her feel light as a feather. She suspected he could make anyone feel like they floated on air.

He smiled at her, tucking her hand into the crook of his arm as he guided her from the dance floor.

“It was my pleasure, I assure you.” His expression grew serious. “I hope you will not allow those vacuous creatures to spoil your evening. They are the kind to criticise everyone, even each other, for their own amusement. You must not heed them.”

Evie laughed and shook her head. “Of course not. My self-esteem is not so fragile as that. Actually, Lofty and Dumpling are quite accurate, I suppose, and I rather adore dumplings. I’d take it as a compliment, only they meant to taunt, of course, which is never pleasant. They may think what they like, though. Georgie looks quite stunning, and I adore parties. I’ve decided you were quite right about the silly diet, too. I was foolish to let Madame Blanchet overset me. I don’t know what I was thinking. The food tonight is too delicious not to enjoy. Plus, my gown is the prettiest I have ever seen. Nothing will spoil this evening for me, I assure you.”

“I am glad, ma petite. I cannot stand to see you unhappy.”

She looked up at him, touched by his obvious concern. “How could one be unhappy at such a marvellous party and in such good company?”

She felt his hand cover hers, his expression warm and approving. “You look stunning, Miss Knight, and that gown is a triumph. I do not know whether to congratulate myself or wish I’d been a deal less clever.”

She gave him a curious glance, not taking his meaning.

He sighed. “There’s not a man here who hasn’t noticed you,” he said, not looking entirely pleased by the fact.

Evie laughed, startled. “Don’t be silly.”

“I am not being silly,” he said curtly, but they were obliged to halt the conversation as a young man she knew hurried up to her.

“Miss Knight,” he said, smiling broadly at her. “Might you jot me down upon your dance card? If it’s not full, that is,” he added.

Evie smiled at him. “Of course, Mr Greaves. I shall save you a country dance.”

“Oh, jolly good. Until then.” He executed a neat bow and took himself off.

“See?” Louis said darkly as she jotted his name on her fan.