Page 89 of Evie and Louis: The Story so Far

Miss Glover gave a breathless little laugh and handed over the pencil and booklet. Louis neatly tore out one of the blank pages at the end of the book and scrawled a note to Evie, careful the young lady could not see the words. With a formal bow, he thanked her profusely for her help and hurried back to Barnaby.

“Here,” he said. “Give that to Evie. You don’t need to say a word or involve yourself further.”

Barnaby stared at the note in Louis’ hand, his expression taut with apprehension.

“Je t'en prie, s'il te plait,” Louis said, his voice betraying his emotions. “Please, Barnaby. I need your help. I love her. You know that I love her. I would never hurt her, but we must speak. How am I to resolve this if I can never see her again?”

Barnaby sighed and took the note from his hand. “What will you do?”

“That all depends on Evie,” Louis said, and hoped to God he could depend on her too.

Chapter 41

Sinfully Daring

Mon amour,

I will come to you tonight. Dismiss your maid as soon as you are able and put a candle in the window once you are alone.

Je t'aime, Evie. I will let no one keep us apart.

LC x

―Excerpt of a letter from Louis César de Montluc, Comte de Villen to Miss Evie Knight (daughter of Lady Helena and Mr Gabriel Knight).

3rd July 1842, Mrs Palmer’s Summer Ball, Piccadilly London.

Rosamund went through the motions for the rest of the evening, though she felt oddly numb and out of sorts. She danced and smiled and made polite small talk until she felt like she might scream. Needing to escape for a moment, she sought a little peace by walking the corridors where it was quieter, though whether she was hoping to escape the ballroom and all its guests or herself, she was uncertain.

“Ozzie?”

Rosamund turned to see Evie sat in an alcove. Mrs Palmer had supplied chairs in several secluded corners for the guests to take a moment to rest quietly, or for lovers to indulge in a little tête-à-tête. Seeing her friend gave Rosamund a moment of relief until she realised Evie looked as wretched as she did.

“Not enjoying yourself?” Rosamund guessed with a wry smile.

Evie shook her head. “You?”

“No,” she replied, her voice flat. “I hate everyone and everything.”

“I know just how you feel,” Evie said with a heavy sigh.

They looked at each other and both gave a despondent laugh.

“You go first,” Evie said, reaching out and taking Rosamund’s hand. “I saw Lord Hargreaves leave earlier. Is that why—”

Out of nowhere, tears pricked at Rosamund’s eyes and her throat grew tight. She swallowed hard, trying to tell herself she was being a great ninny, but it didn’t help. A fat tear rolled down her cheek.

“Oh, Ozzie, love,” Evie said, her voice aching with sympathy. “Come with me. We can’t have anyone see you like this.”

Evie tugged her to her feet and checked the corridor was clear before hurrying her along to the first door they found. They went inside, discovering a small, comfortable parlour. Evie guided her to a settee, and they sat down, side by side, as close as their voluminous skirts would allow. Tugging a pretty lace-edged handkerchief from her sleeve, Evie handed it to Rosamund.

“Here, don’t worry, I brought extras. I had a feeling I might need them tonight,” she added, giving Rosamund a sad smile.

Rosamund took the handkerchief and wiped her eyes, watching Evie with concern. “Why, what’s wrong?”

Evie shook her head. “You first.”

“Oh, I’m being foolish, only I feel so wretched for the poor man, and for myself. His wife is notorious for her affairs and makes a fool of him whenever possible, yet she will not allow him to be friends with me. He has said he won’t speak to me again, and I could tell how upset he was. I know it’s for the best but… but it’s so awful. If only he wasn’t married to that horrid woman.”