Page 82 of Evie and Louis: The Story so Far

The lady snorted. “If you’d have said that to me ten years ago, you might have found yourself in a deal of trouble, young man. Lucky for you, I’m not so quick as I once was.”

Louis laughed, the first genuine laugh Barnaby had heard from him since they’d left Fort William. Whilst it pleased him to see his friend’s spirits lighten, it was still disconcerting to see his formidable aunt turn girlish before his eyes.

“Louis, stop flirting with my aunt. It’s unnerving.”

“Barnaby, hush. There are certain things a lady of my age can still enjoy, and making outrageous remarks to handsome men young enough to be our sons is one of them. Don’t spoil it.”

“Fine,” Barnaby grumbled. “Is there any tea?”

“Of course there’s tea. It will be here presently,” she said, tsking at him. “Now sit down, you’re giving me a crick in my neck. No, monsieur, you will sit there, where I can keep an eye on you.” She patted the seat closest to her.

They obeyed her, for there was no point in doing anything else, and once the tea had arrived, waited for her to pour.

“How is Bedwin?” Barnaby asked, taking his cup from her. “As terrifying as ever?”

“Not a bit of it. He’s perfectly charming, just as his uncle was, and the duchess is such a sweet creature. Beverwyck is a glorious place to stay, and she’s made me feel perfectly at home.”

“She is a remarkable woman,” Louis offered with a smile as Aunt Hester held out his tea.

“She is,” Aunt Hester replied, fixing him with a steely gaze. “And one who laments your refusal to become a part of the family, I might add. How many of her dinner invitations have you accepted this year, might I ask?”

Barnaby watched with interest as Louis frowned and looked a little uncomfortable. “She is too kind, but just because my brother has married into the family does not mean—”

“Stuff!” Aunt Hester announced before Louis could say another word. “I never saw a fellow more in need of a family, and here is one opening its arms to you, and what do you do? Turn tail and run away.”

“My lady, I was not run––”

“Yes, you were. No excuses. I know your type,” she said, imperious as ever. Barnaby bit back a smile as Louis closed his mouth, enduring his scolding. “Balderston was just the same. Never had a family to speak of and didn’t know how to go on in the midst of so much affection and chaos, though he wanted to. Any fool could see that. You just need to accept it, you silly creature. They welcome you, they like you, let them do so.”

Rather to Barnaby’s surprise, Louis was staring into his teacup, looking very much like he was taking her words seriously instead of simply nodding and paying lip service, as he might have expected.

“The next time her grace offers an invitation, you will accept it.”

“Oh, steady on, Aunt,” Barnaby protested, chagrined to see his relative bossing his friend about like she’d the right to. “Leave Louis alone. He’s a grown man, and—”

“And grown men can behave like frightened children when offered anything resembling affection and care,” Aunt Hester said, her tone one he did not dare to counter a second time. She turned her steely gaze from him back to Louis. “Young man, you will accept the invitation.”

Louis nodded, though said nothing and Aunt Hester sat back in her chair, satisfied.

“Now then, I have received an invitation to Lady Montagu’s garden party. I should like you to escort me, Barnaby.”

“Yes, Aunt,” Barnaby replied, stifling a sigh.

“It’s to be a family affair, all the children in attendance. I take it you’ll bring that wicked girl of yours, monsieur?”

“Miss Agatha will probably murder me in my sleep if I do not,” Louis replied with a smile.

“Miss Agatha isn’t the least bit wicked,” Barnaby said indignantly. “Really, Aunt, that’s too much. You only met her the once too and she—”

Aunt Hester sighed and shot him an impatient glare. “It was a compliment, Barnaby, as the comte well understood. All the best girls are a little bit wicked; gives them character.”

“And you, my lady, are most certainly a wicked creature,” Louis said, laughing softly, his tone gently chiding.

Aunt Hester harrumphed but still looked pleased.

“Diabolical,” she muttered.

Barnaby frowned, feeling put upon until Louis turned to him, his blue eyes full of warmth. “Mon pauvre, Barnaby. I thank you for defending Miss Agatha, my friend. I am touched you should do so.”