Page 8 of Evie and Louis: The Story so Far

She shrugged. “I was just curious.”

Louis stared at her. How the devil had she even known? He was very circumspect in his affairs. They were brief and uncomplicated, with no expectations on either side. That way no one got hurt.

“I suppose you always choose older women because they have no illusions about you.”

“Christ, Evie!” he exclaimed, staring at her in outrage.

“What?” she said, rolling her eyes. “I’m young, not blind, nor stupid… and I do know about the birds and the bees.”

“Well, you ought not,” he said moodily, even though he knew he was being ridiculous. The world might believe young women should be ignorant of life in general and sex in particular, but he had always thought it a dangerous way to go on. At this moment, however….

“Well, you may speak to my mother about it if you object to her rather unique ideas on teaching her daughters,” she said with a shrug. “She’s rather forthright on the subject of women’s education and emancipation. I’m far from ignorant on a number of forbidden subjects, I assure you.”

Louis glowered at his plate, annoyed for no reason he could put his finger on.

“And what do you mean, I always choose older women?” he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

Evie gave him an odd look. “Well, you do choose ladies a little older than yourself. There was Mrs Greaves, Lady Faversham—both in their forties—Mrs Rogers, and that lady you met at the theatre, can’t remember her name, she wore a lovely bronze gown, oh, and Mrs–” She ticked them off with her fingers.

Louis felt a blush creep up the back of his neck. “That’s enough,” he said, rather too sharply.

The wretch smirked at him and sipped her lemonade, cool green eyes regarding him with interest. There was a taut silence.

“How did you know?”

“I didn’t for certain until this moment,” she said, looking unpardonably smug. Her expression faded at the look he gave her, and she shrugged. “You can be as discreet as you like, but the ladies are not so careful as they think they are. They have a way of looking at you, a possessive glint in their eyes.”

Louis gave her a sceptical glance. Not that he doubted her words, women did look at him that way, but how could she tell which ones he’d…? Well, he certainly wasn’t going to ask her that.

“You think me a libertine, I suppose,” he said, uncomfortable now. He’d grown fond of Evie’s company, but he was not a suitable friend for her. She was so young, so innocent—though not so innocent as he’d supposed, judging on this conversation. Still, her parents ought to take more care of her. She certainly ought not be aware of men like him, or of the way he lived his life. He’d known before he ought not seek her company, of course, but she was funny and sweet, like the little sister he’d never had. He’d not realised she’d known about his liaisons then, however. Louis felt a surge of shame, which was idiotic.

“You are a libertine,” she said cheerfully. “But it’s only because you’re lonely and you’ve nothing better to do. You should get married, have children, or at least find something more productive to do with your time. Mama says men always get into trouble when they have nothing more interesting to do.”

Louis glowered at her.

“Are you denying it?” She raised a dark eyebrow at him.

He gave a huff and folded his arms.

“Gentlemen do not work,” he said, even though he’d rattled the bars of that particular cage in numerous rows with his brother.

“Not in trade, of course not, heaven forefend,” she said, affecting a look of scandalised horror which made him snort. “But I’m sure there’s any number of things you could take an interest in. Charity work, breeding horses, or designing… things. I don’t know. You’re clever and capable. Think of something to occupy you or find yourself a wife who will hold your attention.”

“There’s no one I want to marry.”

Louis hated himself for giving such a pathetic answer. He sounded like a sulky boy, for the love of God. Here he was a grown man, getting a dressing down from a girl of sixteen and, what was worse than that, she was bloody well right in everything she’d said. Putain!

“Well, I could recommend many lovely ladies who would make you an admirable wife, but I shan’t.”

“Why not?” he asked, offended.

“Because you might need to marry, but you’ll only mess it up if you do it for the wrong reasons. I won’t see any of my friends hurt when you’re unfaithful to them.”

“My, you do have a fine opinion of me,” he said bitterly, unable to look at her.

Instead, he turned back to the ballroom, just visible behind the array of greenery and potted plants that shielded this corner of the seating area. Everyone else was dancing, enjoying themselves. He jolted as a gloved hand settled on his sleeve.

“I have the highest opinion of you,” she said softly. “You are my friend. I’m only worried for you. I know you have a good heart, and once you’ve found what you are looking for, everything else will fall into place.”