Margaret nodded, squeezing Evelina’s hands. “I know you’ll take care of everything, Evie. You always do.”
The trust in her sister’s eyes was almost more than Evelina could bear. She pulled Margaret into a tight embrace, allowing herself a moment of vulnerability.
“Now then,” she said, pulling back and plastering on a bright smile. “Let’s see what we can do about that gown for Lady Ashworth’s ball, shall we?”
As they made their way back to the drawing room, Evelina’s mind raced. She had promised Margaret her debut, her Season, a chance at finding a good match. But with their finances in such dire straits, how could she possibly keep that promise?
Her thoughts turned once again to the Duke of Dunmore and the interview that morning. Despite her misgivings, despite the way his very presence seemed to set her nerves on edge, she couldn’t deny the opportunity—if it still stood—presented.
The salary would surely be generous, given his status and wealth. It would be enough to secure Margaret’s debut, to shoreup their finances. But had she ruined her chances with her sharp tongue and quick temper?
Evelina recalled the way the Duke’s eyes had narrowed at her impertinent remarks, the way his jaw had clenched as if holding back a biting retort.
And yet, there had been that moment—just before she had taken her leave—when something like admiration had flickered across his face.
Now, as she looked at Margaret, so full of hope and excitement for her future, Evelina knew she had no choice. For her sisters, she would do anything. Even if it meant putting herself at the mercy of the Duke.
As they reached the drawing room, where Louisa was still poring over fashion plates, Evelina made her decision. She would write to the Duke this very evening, apologizing for her behavior and reiterating her interest in the position—if he had not already dismissed her from consideration.
“Evie?” Margaret’s voice broke through her thoughts. “You look pale. Are you certain you’re all right?”
Evelina nodded with a smile. However, as she bent over the swaths of fabric, her mind was far away, already composing the letter that would seal her fate. Given her father’s consistent desire to ruin their futures, this looked like a live-or-die moment for her.
And as night fell over Elderglen Manor, as her sisters retired to their beds and an uneasy silence fell over the house, Evelina sat at her small writing desk, quill poised over parchment. She took a deep breath, steeling herself.
Your Grace, she began to write, her hand trembling ever so slightly,I hope this letter finds you well. I am writing to you regarding our meeting this morning…
With each word, Evelina felt as though her pride was slipping through her fingers.
I cannot afford to have pride anyway…
CHAPTER THREE
“My dear Miss Balfour, how wonderful to see you again!” Lady Worthington’s familiar voice drew Evelina’s attention. The elderly matron approached, her ample form swathed in rich burgundy velvet.
Evelina curtsied, a warm smile gracing her features. “Lady Worthington, it is a pleasure. I trust you are well?”
“Oh, quite well, my dear. And how is your family? I see young Margaret has made her debut, at last. She looks absolutely charming.”
Evelina stood at the edge of the ballroom, her watchful gaze never straying far from her younger sister.
Margaret was a vision in pale blue silk, her lovely curls adorned with delicate white flowers. Evelina’s heart swelled with pride as she observed her sister’s graceful movements and polite smiles. All those hours of instruction had not been in vain.
“You are too kind, My Lady. We are all in good health, thank you.” Evelina’s smile faltered slightly as she thought of her father’s latest gambling losses, but she quickly composed herself.
Lady Worthington leaned in conspiratorially. “I must say, Evelina, you have done a remarkable job with your sisters. It’s no small feat to raise four young ladies, especially given your… circumstances.” Sympathy flickered in her eyes.
Evelina’s spine stiffened imperceptibly. “You are most gracious, Lady Worthington. My sisters are my joy, and it is my privilege to guide them.”
As Lady Worthington opened her mouth to reply, Evelina jolted slightly at the feel of feathers tickling her face. She turned to see the culprit, only to find herself face-to-face with the Countess of Claymont.
“Evelina! How delightful to see you!” Clara Jones exclaimed, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “I do hope you’re enjoying the ball.”
Evelina curtsied, her smile genuine. Despite her eccentricities, the Countess of Claymont had always been kind to the Balfour sisters.
“Indeed I am, Lady Claymont. It is a splendid affair.”
Clara’s expression softened. “My dear, I must apologize for my nephew’s boorish behavior the other day. Gabriel can be rather… abrupt at times, but I assure you, he has a good heart beneath that stern exterior.”
