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“You look exquisite,” Lord Stanhope said a few moments later. “You’ve always been beautiful, but now you’ve blossomed, like a flower in an English field in the summertime.”
Evie smiled coyly. “Thank you. Your wife must appreciate your flowery speeches.”
“Perhaps, but I’ve never told her that her eyes remind me of emerald waters.”
“Oh, no, how did she survive without such a flattery?” Evie laughed in earnest, and her dance partner smiled wolfishly.
“Spouting flowery nonsense is not the only thing I am good at.” Lord Stanhope winked at Evie. They clasped hands and were dancing in a circle around each other. Stanhope imprisoned Evie’s gaze with his, burning a hole in her eyes with his intensity. Evie felt decidedly uneasy.
She cleared her throat and licked her lips before attempting to speak. Stanhope’s gaze fell to her mouth, then traveled down to her bosom.
“What marvelous things keep your wife happy then?” she asked with a tight smile, trying to dispel the tension.
Stanhope leaned closer to her then and whispered into her ear, “Meet me at the gazebo after this dance, and I’ll show you.”
Evie’s eyes widened in shock. Had he just proposed what she thought he’d proposed? Luckily, they got separated by the dance, and Evie was swept into a twirl by another partner. The momentary reprieve helped her collect her thoughts. After a few more steps, she and Stanhope were reunited.
“I don’t think my husband would appreciate my absence from the ballroom,” Evie answered with a haughty air, and Stanhope laughed loudly as if it were the drollest thing he’d ever heard. People around them turned at the sound.
“Mark my words, my darling,” he said in a low voice. “He’ll be doing the same thing, only perhaps in a different part of the estate.”
Evie’s stomach churned at the idea. She unconsciously turned her head in search of her husband but could not see him anywhere.
“Do not twist your head so,” her dance partner continued. “I am sure he is indulging in some fine young lady as we speak. Or do you not know the man you married?”
Evie swallowed but refrained from answering. Another twirl away from her dance partner allowed her to breathe easier. She looked around the room. Still no sign of her husband.
It couldn’t be. He wouldn’t do that to her, would he? He wouldn’t be spending his time with another lady while she was in the next room. During their wedding ball, no less.
Evie bit her lip.Or do you not know the man you married?Of course, she knew. In fact, their bargain gave him leave to continue indulging in every other lady of thetonand beyond as much as he wished. It was probably the reason he even agreed to their marriage. Of course, he was courteous toward her; he kissed and touched her like she was the only woman who mattered, but surely he did that to every other lady he knew.
She felt ill. She was sure her face was ashen, too.
“Gazebo in five minutes?” Stanhope winked at her once more as they reunited in dance again.
“I am afraid you’ve misconstrued my interest,” Evie said as evenly as she could. “I am not interested in clandestine meetings with gentlemen who are not my husband.”
Stanhope laughed again. Evie’s skin crawled with unpleasant shivers at the sound. “How bourgeois,” he said with a wide smile. “By the end of this house party,” he said, and they were separated again. Evie’s mind was frantic, and she kept searching the room for a sign of her husband. She made a couple of steps and drew closer to Stanhope once more. “You will change your mind,” he continued.
The dance ended at that, and Evie curtsied mechanically. Stanhope bowed, moving his head closer to Evie’s. “Mark my words,” he whispered, turned on his heel, and stalked away.
Evie stood on the dancefloor, surrounded by crowds of people dispersing after the dance. All the sounds receded to the background, her vision blurred before her eyes, her breathing was coming up in shallow gasps. She was on the verge of tears, she realized in horror.
“Your Grace.” Another gentleman bowed before her. “May I have this dance?”
