Page 60 of Her Devil of a Duke
The opening hour of the ball passed by in a blur. Evelyn was either stuck to Mavis’s or Peter’s side. Whenever she tried to get a little distance, perhaps hide in the shadowy corner of the ball, or go to her cousins, her uncle and aunt would intervene. They would subtly grip her wrist and drag her toward them again. Plainly, after her misdemeanors, they didn’t even trust her to behave at a ball in their own house.
“Ah, here he is.” Mavis turned to face the window as another carriage arrived. “Perhaps things can start looking up for this family once more.”
Evelyn followed her aunt’s gaze toward the window, looking away from the hustle and bustle of the ballroom and all the guests that had gathered. It may have been cold outside, but inside the room, the air was heated in part by the great fires, the press of bodies in this space, and the dancing. Cheeks were flushed and colored pink, and many ladies fluttered fans in front of their faces to hide more than their murmurings.
Stepping away from the crowd, Evelyn moved to the window to see what had caught her aunt’s eye. The carriage that halted on the driveway was one that she recognized all too well. It belonged to Mr. Windham.
He stepped down from the carriage with ease, flicking the corners of his tailcoat as he leaped to the snow. He smoothed a hand across his fair hair and hurried toward the steps that led up to the front of the house.
Evelyn felt nauseous as she watched him. She wasn’t sure what thought bothered her more. Was it the memory of seeing him kiss another woman that night at the masquerade ball? Or was it the possessive way he had taken her away from Rafe’s house, insisting that she now belonged to him?
Marriage shouldn’t be about possession. It should be about something else entirely.
Another image shot across her mind. It was of her and Rafe together, just laying side by side in bed, with his arm comfortingly wrapped around her waist. They would talk and whisper, sometimes all night, purely pleasured by each other's company. It was such a happy memory that when Mavis took hold of her elbow, she felt jolted out of it as if shocked by lightning.
“Come,” Mavis urged. “You must be seen by his side this evening.”
“Aunt, please.” Evelyn turned to Mavis, hoping to appeal to some humanity in her. “I know what I have done cannot be forgiven. Yet will you truly insist I spend all my evening with him now? I am already marrying him for the family’s sake. At least give me an evening free of him.”
“Why on earth?” Mavis frowned at her, as if the question completely baffled her to the core.
Evelyn didn’t know what to say. She blinked, staring at her aunt, as she realized that her feelings mattered as much to Mavis as the inspirations of a passing fly. When she failed to reply to that, her aunt swatted away the suggestion.
“Come.” Mavis took Evelyn’s elbow again and drew her through the ballroom.
As Mr. Windham entered the room, he greeted Peter, before moving to her side.
“Ah, I am so glad you made it, Mr. Windham,” Mavis said with a great smile. She proffered Evelyn’s arm to him, and he snatched it up at once, curling it under his own in a possessive manner. Evelyn pulled against him, trying to soften his hold, but it simply made him tighten his grasp further.
“The honor is well and truly mine,” Mr. Windham smiled fully, though the glance he sent Evelyn’s way showed there was a lack of sincerity in his tone.
He is simply glad he might soon get his hands on my dowry.
“Come, dear Evelyn. Let us introduce you as my betrothed to the guests here tonight.” As Mr. Windham led her away, she glanced back to see Mavis sighing with relief, fluttering a fan before her face.
Evelyn was wooden as she was introduced around the room as Mr. Windham’s betrothed. The three couples they spoke to all raised their brows when they heard the news, clearly all finding it quite a surprise. This shook Evelyn at first. She and Mr. Windham had been courting before, so the news of the marriage should hardly have been a great surprise. It was only when she was introduced to the third couple that she realized why they were so shocked.
“How strange,” a young woman whom Evelyn knew through a few casual tea parties muttered. Her name was Lady Georgiana Farrow. She lifted her chin challengingly as she looked at Mr. Windham. “I had heard you were keeping company with a lady by the name of Miss Marianne Thatcher.”
“Ha! What a notion.” Mr. Windham laughed off the idea. “Just rumors, I assure you, Lady Farrow.”
Lady Farrow looked at Evelyn with a single raised eyebrow. Evelyn smiled a little at the lady, appreciating what she was trying to do in her own subtle way – it was an attempt to warn Evelyn not to trust him.
The knowledge that others in the room knew he would be unfaithful to her made Evelyn’s hand quell within his grasp. As Lady Farrow and her husband walked off to dance, Evelyn retrieved her hand from Mr. Windham.
“If you would excuse me, Mr. Windham. I need some air to refresh myself. I will return momentarily.” She didn’t give him time to answer her, but walked toward the door of the ballroom, intent on escaping. The ballroom was so noisy that she didn’t hear his footsteps behind her at first.
When she reached the door of the ballroom, Mr. Windham caught up with her. He thrust his hand on the handle of the door that led out to the garden, holding it firm.
“Do you think I’m going to let you escape that easily?”
CHAPTERTWENTY-EIGHT
Rafe knocked the glass of claret back to his lips as he walked through the house, heading toward the chamber that had belonged to Evelyn during her stay.
He’d only just said goodbye to Simon, seeing him off for the ball. Realizing how close it was to his own house, Rafe’s stomach had knotted. It would have been all too easy to go with Simon to the ball, but he was not welcome, and Rafe certainly couldn’t bear witnessing the announcement of Evelyn and Mr. Windham marrying.
Rafe downed what was left in the claret glass as he opened the door of the bedchamber and strode inside. The flowery fragrance of Evelyn still hung in the air. He inhaled it as he stepped deeper into the room, amazed at the effect that her scent could have on him, the capacity to quieten his tempestuous thoughts.
