Page 25 of The Duke's Accidental Wallflower
Minerva inclined her head, the praise washing over her like a balm. “I am so pleased to hear that. Please, let me know if there’s anything else I can do to make the afternoon more enjoyable.”
As the ladies continued their conversation, Minerva’s mind drifted ever so slightly. She kept herself engaged, offering polite nods and well-timed responses, but her thoughts kept returning to the one presence she was stubbornly avoiding. She risked a quick glance across the garden, catching sight of Evan at the far end of the lawn, still surrounded by admirers—several eager young women and young men aspiring to be like him, all vying for his attention.
She quickly turned her gaze back to Lady Radcliffe before anyone noticed.Stay focused, Minerva,she scolded herself.This is your event. He doesn’t matter.
“Lady Minerva, dear,” Lady Radcliffe's voice brought her back to the present conversation, “the games are a delightful addition to the party. I am sure they’ll be great fun.”
“Yes, they should be,” Minerva replied, her smile fixed in place. “It is always enjoyable to see guests take to the games, especially the croquet tournament. I believe it should start soon.”
She moved gracefully among the guests, attending to their needs with practiced ease. She poured tea, arranged the plates of sandwiches and pastries, and engaged in light conversation. Every time she laughed at a comment or responded to a question, she could feel a small part of her calming down. This was what she was good at—hosting, managing, ensuring every detail was perfect. Not getting distracted by a man who had no business being here in the first place.
At one point, she caught sight of Chastity on the other side of the garden, laughing with a group of young ladies. Relief washed over her—at least her sister seemed to be enjoying herself. It was a small comfort in the midst of her internal turmoil.Good,she thought.At least one of us is having a pleasant time.
Still, she couldn’t help but feel the constant pressure of Evan’s presence lurking in the background. As she moved between groups of guests, making sure everyone had what they needed, she could sense him from the corner of her eye, always in the periphery, lingering just out of reach. He was speaking to a group of ladies now, flashing that charming smile of his, making them laugh with whatever witty remark had undoubtedly just left his lips.
Let him flirt,she told herself firmly.Let him charm everyone in attendance. It doesn’t concern me.
“Lady Minerva, dear,” Lady Ashford called, waving her over to the tea table. “Do tell us where you found these delightful biscuits!”
Minerva hurried over, grateful for the distraction. “They were prepared by Mrs. Hargrave, our cook,” she replied. “She is quite talented, isn’t she?”
“Oh, indeed,” Lady Ashford said, taking another biscuit. “You must give her my compliments.”
“I will, of course,” Minerva assured her. She kept her tone light, her smile warm, but beneath it all, her thoughts were still distracted by the constant awareness ofhim.
She felt a sudden splash of warmth against her hand. She gasped softly, looking down to see a dark stain spreading across her gloves. One of the guests, a young woman seated nearby, had accidentally knocked her teacup, the contents sloshing over the edge and onto Minerva’s hands.
“Oh, I am terribly sorry, Lady Minerva!” the woman exclaimed, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “I did not mean to?—”
“It is quite all right,” Minerva said quickly, her voice calm and controlled, though her annoyance was barely concealed. She glanced down at her now-ruined gloves and forced a reassuring smile. “No harm done.”
The woman looked mortified, but Minerva waved it off, excusing herself from the group with as much grace as she could muster. “If you will excuse me, I will just step away to change these.”
She hurried off to find the servants, hoping her maid would have her spare gloves with her. However, moving swiftly across the garden path, her heart beat faster than it should have been for such a minor inconvenience.It is just tea, she told herself.It is nothing.But the slight disruption in her perfect control of the event had only amplified the restlessness simmering beneath her skin.
And shestillrefused to acknowledge Evan’s gaze following her as she disappeared into the garden to find her maid, wherever that girl got off to. She closed her eyes, hoping Evan would not follow her again.
But, of course, that hope was in vain.
Footsteps sounded behind her, slow and deliberate. He always seemed to appear exactly when she did not want him to.
“Lady Minerva,” Evan’s voice came, light and teasing, far too close for her liking. “Are you really going to spend the entire party trying to escape me?”
Minerva’s pulse quickened, but she forced herself to maintain her pace. “I am not escaping you, Your Grace,” she said coolly, refusing to turn. “I am attending to my duties as hostess.”
“Is that so?” Evan’s soft laughter drifted toward her, but his steps quickened, matching hers.
Minerva finally stopped, realizing that if she did not confront him, he would continue to follow her. They had just disappeared out of eyesight of the other guests. She turned sharply on her heel to face him, her chin lifted.
“And why, exactly, are you so intent on following me?” she snapped, her eyes flashing. “Do you not have other guests to charm with your insufferable arrogance?”
Instead of backing off, Evan took a step closer, the amusement in his eyes deepening.
“I cannot help but wonder why you are so set on eluding my company.” His voice was smooth, but there was an edge of curiosity in it now, and he looked at her intently. “Is it something I said?”
Minerva's stomach twisted as she stood her ground. He was far too close, and she couldn’t allow him to see how much he unsettled her. The lavender bushes lining the path released their subtle fragrance into the air, mingling with the distant hum of conversation from the other guests. Yet, for Minerva, the quiet corner of the garden felt suffocating with Evan’s presence—intense, palpable, and entirely too close.
She forced herself to square her shoulders. “Why did you come, Your Grace?” she asked, her voice tight. “You weren’t invited.”
