Not even bothering to give Evelina a second glance, the Duke gave a curt nod and then strode out of the room, leaving her reeling in his wake.
Clara hurried to her side, fanning herself vigorously. “Good heavens, my dear! I have never seen anyone speak to Gabriel in such a manner. I admit, I thought he might order you out of the house!”
Evelina’s jaw clenched. “He very nearly did, I suspect. However, I do not regret speaking my mind. The man is positively infuriating!”
“Now, now.” Clara patted her shoulder consolingly. “All may not be lost. Did you not see the look in Gabriel’s eyes? I do believe you managed to pique his interest, my dear. He does enjoy a challenge, you know.”
Evelina shook her head, still seething with indignation. “Be that as it may, I fear I have done little to endear myself to His Grace. How am I to work for a man who seems determined to think the worst of me before I’ve even begun?”
As they made their way back to the waiting carriage, Evelina’s mind whirled with conflicting emotions. The Duke’s arrogance certainly made her upset, yet she couldn’t deny the admiration that she had for his quick wit and deep intelligence.
And beneath it all, a small spark of… something, ignited by the memory of those piercing green eyes and that unexpected laugh.
Stop that this instant.You cannot afford such fanciful notions. Focus on finding a way to salvage this disaster of an interview.
She reminded herself as well that a man’s charm, after all, was not enough to make up for his insufferable demeanor.
As the carriage rolled away from Dunmore Estate, she huffed to herself, sensing that she had not seen the last of the infuriating Duke.
With a quiet sigh, she turned her gaze to the passing countryside, steeling herself for the difficult task of explaining this calamitous turn of events to her eagerly waiting sisters.
Whatever happened next, she knew she must find a way to provide for her family—even if it meant swallowing her pride and facing that maddening man once more.
Evelina Balfour was not a woman to be trifled with, and she was more determined than ever to prove her worth—to the Duke, to Society, and, most importantly, to herself.
CHAPTER TWO
“Stop here, please. I would like a moment to clear my head.”
“Yes, Miss.”
As her carriage rolled to a stop a walkable distance from Elderglen Manor, Evelina heaved a weary sigh.
The facade of the once-grand estate showed signs of neglect, mirroring the state of affairs within. She gathered her skirts and stepped down from the carriage, her mind still reeling from her interview with the insufferable Duke of Dunmore.
The memory of their encounter made her cheeks burn with a mix of indignation and embarrassment. How dare he question her qualifications so thoroughly? And how could she have allowed herself to be provoked into such impertinence? Evelina groaned inwardly, recalling the moment her temper had gotten the better of her.
Surely, tutoring one little girl could not be compared to raising four completely different girls, each one with a special set of problems and challenges. If she had managed that, who was he to question her ability to do the same with his daughter?
“Miss Balfour!”
The shrill voice of Mrs. Higgins, their housekeeper, cut through her reverie. “Thank heavens you’ve returned. Miss Margaret has been in quite a state, and Miss Louisa has barricaded herself in the library again.”
Evelina pinched the bridge of her nose, willing away the headache that threatened to bloom. “I see. And what of Penelope and Alexandra?”
“Last I saw, they were chasing each other through the rose garden, Miss. I fear for Mrs. Wilmington’s prized blooms.”
“Very well, Mrs. Higgins. I shall attend to them at once. Has my father returned?”
The housekeeper’s face fell. “I’m afraid not, Miss. He left word that he would be dining at his club this evening.”
Of course he had.
Evelina nodded, dismissing Mrs. Higgins with a tight smile. As she climbed the steps to the manor’s entrance, she steeledherself for the chaos that awaited within, all the while unable to put thoughts of the Duke out of her mind.
The way he had managed to see right through her carefully constructed facade of calm competence with barely any effort. The way he had stood tall, every inch the arrogant aristocrat, had set her teeth on edge…
No sooner had she crossed the threshold than a blur of golden curls and pink lace came barreling towards her.
