Page 6 of Evie and Louis: The Story so Far

“Take another, I suppose,” Arabella replied with a shrug. “But we must try our best to make out the writing. This is fate taking a hand, after all.”

“I feel sick,” Evie said, clutching at her stomach.

“You shouldn’t have eaten that last cake,” her sister observed, shaking her head.

“It isn’t the cake, it’s the hat,” Evie protested. “My stomach feels all squirmy.”

“Mine too,” Arabella admitted.

“Oh, do come on!” Cat said, rolling her eyes at them.

“All right, all right. Give it here.” Arabella gestured for Cat to hold the hat out to her.

Swallowing, Arabella closed her eyes, sending up a prayer to the universe or the hat, or whatever force it was that had given their mothers their happily ever afters. She thrust her hand into the hat, stirred it about as the papers rustled, and pulled one out.

“What does it say?”

Everyone spoke at once, leaning forward as Arabella fumbled with the little slip of paper. It was brittle and yellowing, having been written over twenty years earlier. Arabella peered at the faded writing, frowning.

“Befriend someone… unsuitable.” She looked up, rather disappointed by that. “Oh.”

“Well, I suppose the Comte de Villen is rather unsuitable,” Vivien said, considering, as everyone knew Arabella was desperately in love with the man.

“We don’t know that for sure,” Florence pointed out. “I mean, everyone says he has a scandalous past, but no one actually knows why.”

“He owns a nightclub,” Arabella suggested. “But then, so does my father, so that hardly makes him unsuitable for me. It’s not like I’m a duke’s daughter.”

“And his brother owns it now, anyway,” Cat said with a shrug. “He has nothing to do with it, does he?”

They all pondered this.

“Perhaps it isn’t the comte you need to befriend.”

Everyone looked at Evie, who had pursed her lips, lost in thought.

“What do you mean?” Arabella asked.

“Well, only that chasing after him hasn’t helped you a bit, has it? He does not wish to be caught. So perhaps if you befriend one of his friends, you could get to know him better without… hunting him down.”

“You’re his friend, Evie,” Arabella said, narrowing her eyes at the girl.

It had come as something of a blow to discover that Evie had befriended the comte when Arabella had failed so miserably. Happily, Evie didn’t seem to consider him in a romantic light at all and did not appear to be the least bit in awe of his astonishing good looks.

“Yes, but I’m not unsuitable, and I’m already your friend. That hardly counts as a dare. I do think you ought to take care, though, Arabella. You don’t want to find yourself in difficulty with some dreadful man who’s got the wrong idea and thinks you are making advances.”

“No, quite.” Arabella nodded, frowning.

Evie leaned closer to Arabella, lowering her voice. “You do remember what I told you, though? He doesn’t want to get married.”

“At the moment,” Greer butted in. “If he falls in love with her, he will want to, and he couldn’t do better than Arabella, could he? She’s beautiful and kind and funny, and an exceptionally good friend.”

Arabella reached out and clasped Greer’s hand, touched by her words.

“No, of course not,” Evie said hastily, though she still looked troubled. “I… I just don’t want to see anyone get hurt.”

“You must promise not to tell him, Evie,” Arabella said, stern now. “I know he’s your friend, but so are we.”

Evie looked miserable, and Arabella felt guilt squirming in her chest. They ought not to have invited Evie. This was putting her in a difficult situation. Not that Arabella had a plan Evie could reveal, for she didn’t have the slightest idea how this dare would help her. Evie’s idea was the best she had.