Page 84 of Evie and Louis: The Story so Far

The lady bristled. “Well, I might help if I approve the match,” she added with a sniff.

“And if you do not?”

“Do you think I would not?” she asked him, her voice softer now.

Louis shrugged, struggling to keep his relaxed pose and indifferent mask in place. He couldn't honestly imagine anyone approving of him marrying Evie. Not if they had any sense, or care for her.

“Tell me she’s not some pretty little ninny with nothing in her head but jewels and frivolous nonsense,” she demanded, fierce now.

“Certainly, she is not!” Louis retorted, and then cursed himself for the slip, for he had just dismissed many of the unmarried females on offer amongst the ton and the lady knew it.

She sat back, her smile smug and Louis prayed Barnaby would be back soon.

Chapter 39

Sinfully Daring

Wolf,

I am not married. Not yet. Though I am determined to change this soon. Believe me when I tell you, not all women throw themselves at my feet. Some have more sense. You will not come here, my friend. Not yet. If you had the slightest bit of sense, not at all, but you will insist on kicking the hornet’s nest. Just don’t complain when the wretched things sting you to death. You might be the unofficial king of Paris’ darker world, but your kind of power cannot fight the ton. Society will eat you alive.

Thank you for the champagne, though one wonders how you think we might forget the debt when you remind us of it with such frequency. Nic has more honour in his little finger than the two of us put together, but you know this. You try only to bait me, and I shall not play your games.

Yes, damn you, I know where they went. I also know who it was. Find out what they discovered, and for this I owe you nothing. For if I fall, you do too.

―Excerpt of a letter from Louis César de Montluc, Comte de Villen to Wulfric ‘Wolf’ De Vere.

1st July 1842, Peregrine House, Grosvenor Square, London.

“Papa?”

Evie’s father looked up from his desk as she spoke. A nervous sense of foreboding skittered down her spine as she stood in the open doorway, the sense that she was in trouble looming over her like the villain in a Gothic novel.

“You wanted to see me?” she managed, aware her voice quavered somewhat.

“I did, yes, love. Come in and close the door.”

Evie did as he asked and walked into the room, her heart thudding unpleasantly. Don’t let this be about Louis, she prayed silently, though somehow she’d known this day would come, eventually.

“Sit down,” her father said as he got up and moved around to the front of his desk.

He leaned back upon it, looking down on her. Love and warmth shone in his eyes as always and Evie told herself she was silly to be so anxious. He was her darling Papa and would never hurt her. Yet the sensation remained.

“We must talk, I think.”

“Oh?” she said, her voice unnaturally high, betraying her nerves.

He nodded, his expression grave. “I never explained why we left so suddenly, did I? Yet I believe you know. I very nearly dismissed Neil when I discovered he had been your messenger to the Comte de Villen.”

Evie felt the blush steal up over her chest, her throat, her cheeks burning. “Papa, no,” she said, as her stomach roiled with misery. “It was not his fault. I—”

“I know. You should never have put him in such a position,” her father said firmly. “If anyone had found out, you’d be ruined. You understand that?”

“Lo—” Evie began before snapping her mouth shut. “He would have married me.”

“We shall get to that,” her father said, his voice dark. “I will not ask you to explain yourself, or demand for how long this ill-advised friendship has been going on. That your mother has seen fit to allow it at all has been a source of contention between us these past weeks. She naturally has a romantic streak and sees in Villen a likeness to me and our situation.”

Evie dared a glance at him, hope flickering in her heart that this might not be so bad as she’d feared.