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“I am sure they won’t fit perfectly, but you have my permission to mobilize as many maids as you need to adjust it. Just make certain it is ready by eight o’clock tonight.”
“Yes, my lord.” The housekeeper curtsied again.
“My child,” the earl addressed Evie. “Please, go with Mrs. Ford. She’ll make sure you’re presentable for tonight’s festivities. Well, even more presentable than you already are,” he added with a warm smile.
“I am able to escort my own wife,” came the hard voice of her husband beside her.
She looked up at him, startled.
“No need to get in the way of feminine business, son.” The earl waved his hand dismissively in the same good-natured tone as if he didn’t notice his son’s frostiness. “Besides, I have issues to discuss with you. Important ones.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt it,” Gabriel replied dryly, and Evie wanted to shake him.
What was wrong with him? The earl was going out of his way to be hospitable and polite, and here he was scoffing at his every word. She frowned, but before she could form any words to either chastise her husband or reassure him, the housekeeper opened the door and looked at her expectantly.
“Right,” Evie muttered under her breath, then turned her smile toward her husband. “I shall see you at supper,” she said brightly.
Gabriel turned to her slowly, but to her relief, he looked down at her with a soft smile. “Until supper, my lady wife,” he said and winked at her.
Evie stifled an urge to giggle. She then turned to their host, curtseyed, thanked him for everything, and sailed out of the room.
