Page 3 of Evie and Louis: The Story so Far

“There, see? She’s right, too!” She laughed merrily, and Louis could not help but smile.

“Délicieuse,” he repeated, slowly this time, and then several more times as she copied him.

Evie repeated it after him, her gaze trained on his mouth, a little frown of concentration puckering her brow.

“Pas mal.” He nodded with approval, and she beamed at him.

“Well, I wish you would teach me French. It’s far better hearing it from a real Frenchman than from Miss Rigsby. She tells me my accent is appalling, but I’m not convinced hers is a great deal better.”

Louis snorted. “Well, if we are at the same event again, I shall happily teach you in return for a safe space to hide and a plate of food.”

“A deal,” she said, beaming at him and holding out her hand.

Louis raised his eyebrows in surprise. He’d been joking but… oh well. Where was the harm? “A deal, Miss Evie.”

They shook hands and she offered him the last pastry. “Go on. I’ve already eaten too much, and you look like you need it more than I do. Must keep your strength up if you’re to outrun all those debutantes.”

Something mischievous glinted in her eyes and Louis could not help but laugh. He took the pastry.

“Thank you, and now I had better go. Sadly, I cannot hide the entire evening.”

“Not if you are to find yourself a wife,” she agreed with sympathy. “That is why you are here, isn’t it?”

Louis shrugged. “I suppose so.”

“Does no one catch your eye?” she asked, frowning at him. “There are some very beautiful girls here. Arabella is a lovely person, too. She’s ever so kind and caring, you know, not just a pretty face.”

“I know. I just… well, I don’t want to get married at all.”

She looked surprised at that, and he could not help but feel a little astonished he’d told her.

“Then why come at all?”

“It’s… complicated.”

She snorted at that. “Yes. I don’t doubt it is. Well, enjoy the rest of your evening and… don’t get caught.”

He laughed and bowed to her. “Thank you for your hospitality, Miss Evie. Until next time.”

14th May 1839, Holbrook House, Sussex.

Louis let out a breath. He was hot and his head ached like the very devil. He just wanted to lie down somewhere quiet. Having been surprised to have been invited to this event at all, however, he did not dare make an excuse not to come for fear of causing further offence. Blasted Madame Lafitte had made both him and Nic look the very worst kind of libertines on their last visit, and he suspected the Duchess of Bedwin had played a hand in getting him invited at all. For some reason he could not understand—bearing in mind she was quite obviously in love with her husband—the woman seemed to have a soft spot for him. Indeed she treated him like one of the family and made no bones about the fact she thought he needed mothering. She somewhat baffled him, but he must remember to thank her for intervening on his behalf.

Still, he did not feel up to the prospect of greeting his hosts just yet and walked to a shady part of the garden, praying no one would see him and he could find a place to sit quietly. It was with great relief that he found a bench, tucked away in a hidden spot, and sat himself down.

He awoke with a start sometime later.

“Oh, I am sorry. I wasn’t certain whether or not I should disturb you, but you’ve missed lunch.”

Louis blinked, disorientated for a moment. Green eyes stared at him from a rounded, pink-cheeked face.

“Miss Evie,” he said, sitting up straighter. He sucked in a breath as his head pounded and his stomach roiled.

“A hangover, is it?” she asked with a sympathetic smile.

“No. Not a hangover. I don’t know what it is.” Though he’d never felt so bloody awful, even with a hangover. He put a hand to his temples and rubbed.

“Well, don’t worry, I shan’t disturb you. I only brought you something to eat, as you’d already found a place to hide, and I did promise.”