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CHAPTERTWELVE
Once sequestered in the kitchen,Evie had a difficult time holding back her tears and a few managed to leak from her eyes, trickling down her cheeks.
She sat on a stool as Mrs. Derby, Lady Greenburg, and Tillie stood around her, all comforting her in different ways.
Mrs. Derby handed her a fresh kitchen towel as Lady Greenburg stroked her back.
The baroness gave a deep sigh as she continued moving her hand in soothing circles. “My nephew can be such a pip sometimes.”
Pip? The word better suited a child prone to temper tantrums than a full-grown duke with a nasty habit of yelling down opposition. “I suppose.”
“Evan is my sister’s son,” the baroness went on, “but truly, you’d think he was related to my late husband.”
Tillie held Evie’s hand and giving her fingers a squeeze, she looked up at the baroness. “How’s that?”
“He had a temper too. A rather disagreeable one.”
Evie sniffed. “Did he ever humiliate you publicly?”
“Once.” But instead of looking annoyed the other woman gave a soft smile. “That’s a mistake a good man only makes one time, I can assure you.”
Evie blinked in surprise her tears drying up as she considered those words. They made a great deal of sense.
“What happened between you and your husband the one time?”
Lady Greenburg shrugged. “We were discussing politics. I loudly countered his argument. He lost his temper…” Lady Greenburg chuckled. “The connecting door between our rooms was locked for several days. I received a full apology in the end.”
Evie sat up straighter. First because she’d never heard another woman talk so openly about her marriage in this way. Did Lady Greenburg consider Evie old enough and mature enough for such information?
But she also couldn’t help but wonder. Was that a lesson that Evan could learn as well? She wasn’t without some fault in the matter. She’d inadvertently rejected him and that had clearly stung him.
Which meant that he cared.
Of course, he did. She shook her head in regret. He’d asked to court her. She sighed as she slumped back down. “It’s not just Evan who needs to apologize.”
Lady Greenburg’s hand stopped on her back as Tillie drew in a quick breath. “What happened?”
“He asked to court me.” Evie’s head dropped. “And I bungled my answer.”
“Bungled how?” Lady Greenburg asked.
“I…” But at that moment her mother entered the kitchen.
“His Grace asked to court you?” Her mother’s hands came to her hips, her eyes narrowing on Evie. “What did you say in response?”
Drat. Why did her mother have to enter now? She loved her mother, she did. But she needed some advice without her mother’s agenda factored in, which was impossible with the countess in the room. “Please. Not now,” she asked, her voice full of the tiredness that was sinking deep into her bones. At every turn, her mother had made it more difficult for Evie to find a clear path to the wish inside her heart.
“Not now? A man at the highest pinnacle of our society wishes to consider you for his bride and you’re in the kitchen crying?”
Evie closed her eyes as she tried to pick herself up for this conversation. “Mother. Don’t pretend you weren’t just in the dining room.”
Her mother waved her hand. “A small transgression. A behavior that you will surely train out of him over the course of your marriage.”
But the words did little to soothe her. If anything, they incited an anger she rarely felt. It swelled in her chest like the rising tide until she found herself off her stool and nose to nose with her mother. She hardly remembered crossing the room. “The way I have trained you to cease browbeating me?”
Her mother’s gaze widened. “What are you talking about?”
“Just for once,” Evie’s voice rose with every word, her breath coming in short gasps. “Could you try…” her finger rose up, wagging in her mother’s face, “to consider what I might want…” Her foot stomped on the ground. “Before you attempt to force me on the path you see fit.”
