Besides, he found himself rather captivated by her handsome looks. Her hair, dark and unruly, cascaded around her shoulders in a manner more spirited than fashionable. Her eyes, he noticed, were alight with something fierce—pride, perhaps, or impatience.
“Are you quite all right, miss?” he asked, his voice low and bemused.
She straightened herself, her hand pulling away from his with a certain deliberation. “I am perfectly well,” she said, her voice sharper than he expected. Her eyes met his, and for a brief moment, he thought he saw the faint glint of fire in them, though he couldn’t say what had provoked it. “And you, sir,” she continued, with an edge of disdain, “should be ashamed of yourself.”
With that, she spun around, not waiting for his reply, and vanished into the throng gathered near the steps of Almack’s.
Evan stood frozen for a moment, his brow furrowing as he watched her disappear. Beside him, Jonathan chuckled quietly. “Perhaps she’s heard of your reputation.”
Evan scowled, his gaze still fixed on the spot where she had disappeared. “Possibly,” he replied, though he found himself strangely unsettled. “Though I have a feeling that was no ordinary scolding.”
“From what I hear, most of the women at Almack’s would scold you given half a chance,” Jonathan said, his tone edged with amusement. He clapped Evan on the shoulder. “Come now, your mysterious young lady can’t have left you quite that undone. Besides, Marley’s just arrived. Over yonder. He had best hurry lest he receive a severe censure and a ban from this establishment.”
But Evan’s attention had drifted back to the steps of Almack’s, his gaze lingering as though he half-expected her to return. The memory of that fiery glance haunted him, the challenge in her tone like an echo lingering in the night air. It wasn’t often that he found himself on the receiving end of such indifference—let alone outright disdain.
“Let’s go, then,” he said finally, his lips twitching with a faint smile. “Though I imagine you’re right—I’ve been lectured enough for one evening and shall keep away from any potentially irate ladies for the evening.”
He smiled as he walked back inside toward the man he hoped to make his business partner, though as he did, he stopped and looked over his shoulder at the enraged young woman who stormed into the night.
He hadn’t recognized her, too brief had their interaction been but she’d awoken a curiosity within him – not least because she’d been so very determined in her admonishment of him.
This, to Even, was an almost irresistible quality. He loved a challenged and this young lady had certainly made it clear what she thought of him. Evan smiled. One day, he vowed, he’d find out who she was. And then, he’d do all he could to ensure she changed her mind about him.
No matter what.
CHAPTER 4
Emma
The following day…
The carriage rattled over the cobbled streets as Emma sat sandwiched between her sisters, Arabella and Hanna, trying her best to still the storm raging within her. Outside, London passed by in early-morning bustle, but the impending ceremony, and her friend’s fate, weighed heavily on her thoughts. The uncomfortable pinch of the tightly laced stays, the occasional lurch of the carriage—none of it could compare to the discomfort that had settled deep within her after what she had overheard at Almack’s the night before.
Arabella, watching her sister’s troubled face, reached over to pat her hand. “Emma, are you feeling better? You left in such a rush yesterday I was worried.”
Emma cast her a quick glance, her lips pressed into a thin line. Out of sorts was an understatement. “I’m fine,” she replied,though her tone was clipped, betraying her distress. She hadn’t told her sisters what she’d over heard, indeed, she’d just come to terms with it herself. She’d only intended to find Ophelia – a task that she had failed at – only to instead find herself overhearing that shocking conversation between the Duke of Wells and his friend.
She could still see the wretched Duke, leaning casually against a pillar, with his bored, handsome face and cold, detached voice that had spoken of his impending marriage as if it were a business contract to be endured rather than a union of love.
And who was this Rose woman he’d mentioned? The way he’d spoken her name—low, familiar—had made Emma’s blood run cold. She thought back to the woman she had seen him with at Hyde Park. Was she Rose? Or was that another of his many conquests?
Oh, how glad I am I had the chance to at least tell him what I think of him.
She hadn’t meant to confront him, of course. In fact, she’d been on her way to Ophelia’s townhome which was just a few streets away. She’d announced the need to leave to her family due to a megrim as a way to get away, but she hadn’t planned on being stopped by the Duke. And most certainly not in the manner she had – sailing down the stairs after tripping on her demi train – directly into his arms….
Arabella squeezed her hand, pulling Emma back from her thoughts. “Are you certain? You see miles away.”
“Quite,” Emma replied, though her thoughts insisted on returning back to that moment. His arms had felt strong and his gaze had been penetrating that night. Those eyes, so bright, so blue and his hair in such a stark contrast. She could certainly see why his bedpost had so many carvings in it.
No! I must stop. He is a horror. A weasel! Ophelia must be warned.
“Do you think there might be a chance for me to see Ophelia before the ceremony?” she asked. She’d managed to make her way to Ophelia’s home the night before, but had been disappointed when a maid told her she’d fallen ill – hence her absence from Almack’s.
“I should not think so,” Arabella answered. “I never did not have time to see anyone before my wedding, neither did Hanna.”
“But I must. I must see her. She needs to know who it is she is getting married to,” Emma replied.
“I am quite certain she knows,” Alexander said then.
