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Chapter Sixteen
The world felt new when Evelina awoke the following morning. Matilda had not yet arrived, and the curtains were still drawn, but a tiny stream of light bled through the crack, cutting through the darkness of the room. Her body felt relaxed and pliant, as though all the cares and stress she had been carrying inside since the beginning of the Season had vanished.
It was not true, of course. There was still much to be concerned about: the confusion over the conflict between her father and the late Duke of Elvington, Jerome’s continued presence, her father’s refusal to allow Evelina to spend time with Thomas.
Yet after last night, all of those problems felt inconsequential. Ethereal, even. Like things that had happened in the periphery of her consciousness. Minuscule, and unworthy of her concern.
As Evelina laid there, waiting for Matilda to arrive and usher in the day properly, she relished the memory of Thomas’ lips against hers. The kiss had been brief and chaste, yet Evelina felt as though she had been ravished. Her mouth burned with the phantom sensation of Thomas’, and when she thought of how the kiss might have progressed, desire curled hot in her belly.
A low knock rapped on the door.
“Come in,” Evelina called shakily, quickly divorcing her thoughts from the fantasy that threatened to take over.
As expected, it was Matilda. “Good morning, My Lady. I come with the news that your Father wishes to speak with you.”
There was an air of trepidation to Matilda’s tone that sent Evelina’s good mood into a tailspin. “Did he give word as to what about?”
“I’m afraid not, My Lady. However…I did take note of the Marquess of Newhey’s carriage outside the manor.”
Evelina’s stomach plummeted. She had briefly dared to consider the possibility that Thomas had already resolved the confusion with his brother, and had come to clarify things with her father as well.
She had a dangerous suspicion as to what Jerome was doing here. The situation would require swift action if she was to avoid a catastrophe.
“Very well.” Evelina rose from her bed and made haste to join Matilda at her wardrobe. “I must dress quickly, as the matter is likely urgent.”
Matilda wasted no time helping Evelina dress. She seemed just as concerned as Evelina over Jerome’s presence. While Evelina had not openly shared her disdain for the Marquess of Newhey, Matilda was intelligent in her own right, and had likely guessed Evelina’s feelings from her continued attempts to disappear while in Jerome’s company.
Not long after, Evelina found herself hovering outside the door of her father’s study. She knocked lightly on the door.
“Come in.”
Evelina entered. She was surprised to see Mother there as well, though relieved that Jerome was not present.
“Good day, Father, Mother.” She nodded at both of them in turn. “You requested to see me?”
“Yes, Evelina. Please take a seat,” said Father.
Evelina did as she was told, all the while trying to get a sense as to what the mood was in the room. Father did not seem happy, but nor did he seem angry, or overly stern. Mother was smiling pleasantly…yet there was something off about it as well. It was a happiness that did not quite reach her eyes. After Evelina sat, placing her hands in her lap and crossing her feet at the ankles, the three parties stared at one another in an odd standoff.
“Well, I suppose there’s no sense beating around the bush,” said Father gruffly at last. “This should not come as a surprise to you, Evelina, but the Marquess of Newhey has requested your hand in marriage.”
It wasn’t a surprise, yet Evelina’s mouth popped open nonetheless.
Before she could properly respond, Mother jumped in eagerly, as though to try and control the direction the mood of the conversation took. “Isn’t that exciting, Evelina? Just as we’ve been discussing, the Marquess is both a suitable and handsome gentleman. He is sure to make a fine husband for you.”
Evelina’s throat had gone dry. She had to swallow twice in order to form any words at all. “Mother…Father…first of all, I appreciate the lengths you have both gone to on my behalf this Season.”
Father leveled her with a wary look of warning. Mother’s smile wavered, as if in anticipation of what Evelina was about to say.
What do I say? How can I sufficiently make my case to get out of this? I would certainly wager Father would not take kindly to me bringing up Thomas again.
“However,” Evelina continued, “I am not yet convinced the Marquess and I are the most suitable match.”
Mother’s shoulders slumped in frustration. Before Father could say anything, she was off. “Evelina, don’t you start back on this.”
“Back on what, exactly?”
“This is your third Season. You have reacted similarly to your previous two engagement offers. People will talk if you keep this up, and nothing is wrong with the Marquess.”
