Page 44 of The Duke's Accidental Wallflower
Evan did not respond immediately. Instead, he looked back at the painting, the rolling hills and quiet shadows offering a strange sense of solace. There was something soothing in the familiar landscape, something that made the pain of the past feel a little less sharp.
When he finally spoke again, his voice was quieter, more reflective. “It is strange,” he said. “I haven’t thought about that time in years. But this painting... it brought it all back.”
Minerva nodded, her gaze still on him, her expression unreadable. But there was a softness in her eyes, a gentleness that made him feel like, for once, he did not have to hide behind his usual facade.
After a long pause, Evan shook his head slightly, as if trying to shake off a cloud of confusion. He raked a hand through his hair and gave a short, self-deprecating laugh. “I am sorry,” he muttered, his voice a bit rougher now. “That was... more than you needed to hear.”
Minerva shook her head. “You have nothing to apologize for,” she said quietly. “Truly.”
Evan turned to look at her, surprised by the sincerity in her voice. She wasn’t offering him pity, nor was she judging him. There was only understanding in her gaze.
“In a way, I suppose you would understand more than some others,” Evan mused, a sad smile pulling at his lips. “You have often spoken about your responsibility to your sister.”
Minerva’s face blanched, the slightest look of mortification crossing her face. Evan laughed gently. “I believe we are more similar than we may have first thought.”
“Perhaps,” Minerva admitted, glancing away as she pursed her lips. Then her expression shifted, her brow furrowing slightly as she hesitated. Finally, she drew in a deep breath, her voice steady but firm. “As it happens, my sister refuses to tell me who her secret admirer is. And while both you and she have claimed that admirer is not you, I need to know for certain.”
He opened his mouth to respond, but then closed it again, with jokes and flippant responses coming to mind, one after another. Finally, after a moment, he let out a soft, incredulous laugh. “Lady Minerva, I—” He shook his head, his brow furrowing deeper. “I haven’t been courting your sister.”
“You can assure me you are not?” Minerva breathed, her eyes searching his with hopeful skepticism.
“I am telling you the truth,” he said. “I have never courted your sister. In fact...” He paused, searching his memory. “I do not think I have ever even spoken to her.”
Minerva’s reaction was immediate. Her expression faltered and Evan saw doubt flicker in her eyes. She opened her mouth, as though to argue, but then closed it again, uncertainty creepingin. Her eyes glistened, and for a moment, he wondered if she might cry.
The silence between them stretched, and when Minerva finally spoke again, her voice was quieter, laced with embarrassment. “I... I see.”
Evan tilted his head slightly, studying her. “You really thought it was me,” he said, his tone not unkind but with a hint of amusement. “That is why You have been so... hostile?”
Minerva winced at the word but did not deny it. “I made an assumption,” she admitted, her voice tight as she stared at the floor.. When, she finally met his gaze again, her eyes betrayed the horror she felt from her mistake. “And it appears I was wrong.”
Evan’s expression softened. He could see how much her error was affecting her. “Well,” he said quietly, a small smile tugging at his lips, “I am glad we’ve cleared that up.”
Minerva nodded, though the flush of embarrassment still colored her cheeks. “I owe you an apology,” she said, her voice quiet but sincere. “Perhaps several. I have assumed the worst of you several times over, and that wasn’t fair.”
For a moment, he said nothing, caught off guard by her sincerity. Then he smiled, a faint, genuine thing that surprised even himself. Evan chuckled softly, waving a hand dismissively. “You are not the first to assume the worst about me, and I doubt you will be the last.”
Her gaze flicked to his, uncertain, and it sent a strange thrill through him. She was always so composed, so quick to put him in his place. But now, her guard was down, and it was unexpected. “Even so... I was wrong.”
“I accept your apology,” he said with a nod, the tension between them changing.
Evan couldn’t tear his gaze away from her face, watching the delicate flush rise in her cheeks.
She was always beautiful—he had known that from the moment they met—but this was different. This wasn’t the polished Minerva Bellington who ruled ballrooms with sharp wit and icy precision. This was a woman standing on unsteady ground, unsure of herself, unsure of him.
And damn it all, he liked her better this way. The way her lips had just barely parted, her gaze lingering on him... He couldn’t ignore the way his pulse quickened.
This was different.
“You surprise me, you know,” he said quietly. Evan stepped closer, instinctively drawn to her. His voice dropped, not intentionally, but because the moment demanded it. “You’re not what I thought you were, either.”
For a moment, she did not respond. Her breath caught, and then, with the smallest shift, her gaze dropped—to his lips. Shebarely even glanced, but it was enough for him to feel the shift between them. The air felt strangely thicker.
“Why is that?” she asked breathlessly.
His own heart beat faster, and though he’d been in countless situations like this—alone, close, the tension just right—this felt different. The usual detachment he relied on felt... wrong. He wanted more than to provoke her for his own amusement.
He wanted to understand why she was so guarded, why she resisted him so much, even though it was clear she was just as affected by his presence as he was by hers.
