10/18/2024
If you haven't read it, may I suggest you work it into your schedule soon? This book (and book 1 of this series) is currently FREE.
“I thought you might not be here tonight.” Constance wrapped her arm around Evelyn’s as they stood together at the edge of the ballroom.
“I was nearly forbidden,” Evelyn replied. “Mother was not pleased that I was civil to Mr. Edwards last night.”
Constance chuckled. “Civil?”
Evelyn shrugged. “Mother called it being overly friendly. I considered my actions appropriately civil.”
“You did not argue with her, did you?”
“I am here, am I not?”
“Then you did not argue?”
Evelyn shook her head. “I did not dare. It was not easy, I can assure you, but I remained silent and only nodded my agreement.”
Her mother had gone on and on about speaking to Mr. Edwards for a full ten minutes when they were in the carriage. Evelyn’s tongue was still tender from having held it between her teeth for that long. However, it was a small discomfort, which could be overlooked, if it kept her from being confined to home rather than here with Constance.
“She feared that someone saw us speaking in our box,” Evelyn added.
“That is possible,” Constance replied.
“He was sitting next to your brother, and I was not the only one to speak to him. I do not know why my mother must assume that one word spoken to Mr. Edwards will ruin me forever.” She shook her head.
“Do you like him?”
“What? No! Why should you think that?” Had everyone lost all sense when it came to Mr. Edwards?
“I was merely curious.”
Constance looked away. It was a sign to Evelyn that her friend was not being completely honest.
“Why are you curious?” Evelyn asked.
“Why are you trying to encourage him to take on a charity?”
Evelyn had been wondering that very thing herself. “I do not know,” she answered honestly. “Mother said that he is a ship without a mast, just floating along without purpose.” She turned to face her friend. “How can anyone – anyone – be content to live like that?”
Constance laughed. “You are not attempting to reform him, are you? Not everyone feels the same need that you do to be involved in so many projects.”
“You do.”
“Not so much as you. I enjoy a project, but one at a time is enough for me. You, on the other hand, would be bored without at least three projects in progress and another two in waiting.”
It was true. Evelyn loved to be busy, and she relished the feeling of accomplishment she felt when she had bettered someone else’s life.
“Do not make him a project,” Constance whispered.
“You are a fine one to talk,” Evelyn muttered. Constance had taken on Mr. Crawford as a project, which was why she was now betrothed to the man. Evelyn, who had been considering saying more on the subject, snapped her mouth closed. Constance was probably right. Such a thing could be dangerous. “I do not intend to make him a project, I merely suggested he consider doing something with his life. I will do no more.”
Evelyn smiled at her friend, who did not look convinced. “Now, who shall I dance with first?”
“Not Henry,” Constance replied, “although you may claim him for the second set if you wish.”
“Only if he asks me before Mother has promised me for every set.” She nodded toward where her mother and Constance’s aunt were talking with some gentlemen. “I do hope Mr. Marsh arrives before I am signed away,” she added as they moved toward her mother.
“Do you really wish for him to make an offer?” Constance whispered.
“I believe I do,” Evelyn whispered back. “He is a fine gentleman, and he supports my charity work. And,” she dropped her voice lower, “accepting an offer would finally bring me my own home.”
She loved her mother dearly, but Evelyn had to admit that the last two years had been trying. When she wished to go right, her mother demanded they go left. Not actually left, but it was as if they disagreed far more often than they agreed.
Mr. Marsh seemed the best option to restore her former happy relationship with her mother, for not only did Evelyn approve of the gentleman, so did her mother. And her mother would make certain that her father also approved. How she wished that her father could be here to meet the gentlemen who called on her and asked her to dance, but he could not be. He would know precisely which gentleman would be the best choice, for she and her father were, as Evelyn’s mother always said, kindred spirits. However, he was not able to travel to London and was instead at their estate with her younger brother to aid him in recovering from a riding accident that had left him unable to use his right arm until his shoulder healed.
“Has every dance been claimed?” Evelyn asked as they reached her mother and Mrs. Kendrick.
“Oh, I did not accept on your behalf, but I think you will be a very popular partner tonight.” Mrs. Barrett looked excessively pleased with herself. She leaned toward her daughter. “I did intimate to Mr. Marsh that you were all anticipation to see him.”
“Mama,” Evelyn chided. “I shall be happy to see him, but do not make it sound as if it is more. Is he here?”
“He is, and why should it not be more,” her mother replied. “You are not throwing him over for some rapscallion, are you?”
Evelyn knew precisely about whom her mother was speaking. “No, Mother, I am not throwing him over at all.” Although she had to admit that the more her mother approved so forcefully, the more she longed to be able to throw over Mr. Marsh. However, spiting one’s mother was not an acceptable reason to pass over a perfectly good choice.
Her mother drew a deep breath through her nose and released it slowly. “See that you do not.”
“Miss Barrett,” the very rapscallion to whom her mother had been referring appeared before them at the side of his friend, Henry Crawford, “have you been claimed for the first set?”
“Not officially,” her mother answered, “but I did give a gentleman hope that he would have it. Had Evelyn been present, she would be engaged.”
“That is a travesty,” said Charles. “I shall not discourage such an arrangement.” He moved to take up a relaxed spot standing with them and looking out at the ballroom.
Her mother’s brows furrowed. “At what are you playing?” she demanded.
“Mama,” Evelyn pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. She knew better than to scold anyone in public – especially her own mother. However, her mother’s reply had startled her, and the word flew from her mouth before her brain could think better of it.
“I am not in favour of your dancing with Mr. Edwards,” her mother said plainly. “However, I do know that you cannot refuse and still accept others.”
“There will be no dark corners,” Mr. Edwards replied. “The ballroom is spectacularly lit. Not a shadow to be seen, and I have looked.”
Mrs. Barrett’s lips pursed and one brow rose.
“He is an honest scamp, at least,” said Mrs. Kendrick.
“Not always,” Mr. Edwards replied with a grin.
“My question stands. At what are you playing?”
“In a few week’s time, my good friend is to marry your daughter’s good friend, and I think it would be a right proper thing if Miss Barrett and I were at least able to speak to each other since it is quite likely that we shall be tossed into company on occasion after the happy event occurs. Therefore, I think it a most excellent plan to allow you to see that I can indeed treat your daughter with the respect you require, and she deserves. This,” he made a sweeping motion toward the dance floor, “seems a good place to begin, what with all the chandeliers and all.” He shrugged. “I shall await to see if she is claimed for the first dance and then petition her for another. However, if she is not claimed as you hope, I shall offer my services, so that she will not be left standing, and then, I may quit this soiree since my purpose in attending will be complete.”
“You came just to dance with me?” Evelyn was not certain if she should be impressed by such a deed or worry about his mental faculties.
“No, I came to dance with you and, by dancing with you and behaving appropriately, demonstrate to your mother that I am not entirely without a moral compass.”
Yes. She should likely worry about his mental faculties if he thought he could dissuade her mother from disliking him.
“And,” he continued, “I have been considering what both you and Mr. Linton said last evening, and since you seem to know a great deal about charities, I thought you might be able to point me in the direction of one to which I might be of service.” He held up a hand and turned to Mrs. Kendrick. “I am not taking it on for any recognition from the masses of young ladies who will find it charming.” He shook his head. “I wish to see if I can tolerate the activity before I do that.”
Most definitely it was his mental faculties at fault, for one in his right mind would not declare such before her mother and still think it was possible to convince her that he meant her daughter no harm.
“Mr. Edwards,” Mrs. Barrett began, but the music started at that precise moment, and she forgot to continue as she looked around in what Evelyn thought was a rather frantic fashion for Mr. Marsh to appear.
“What say you?” Mr. Edwards asked Mrs. Barrett. “May I request the first set from your daughter?”
For a moment, Evelyn thought her mother was going to become physically ill as she looked utterly aghast at the question.
“It matters not to me if he has the first or some other dance, Mama,” Evelyn whispered.
“But it is the first dance,” her mother replied.
“The first of many,” Evelyn countered.
“Very well, Mr. Edwards, you may inquire.”
Charles smiled broadly as he bowed. “Miss Barrett, may I have the pleasure of partnering you for this set?”
Evelyn shook her head and rolled her eyes but held out her hand to him.
“Your choice of jacket sets off your bruises quite nicely,” she said as they moved toward where Henry and Constance were forming a set with two other couples. “I thought you were too ashamed to be seen until they were healed.”
“I was until a friend dragged me from my hiding and insisted I join society.”
“I believe it was an acquaintance, not a friend,” she replied.
He shrugged. “Whatever you must tell yourself.”
“I do wish you would stop saying that.” She willed herself not to scowl at him.
Again, he lifted his broad shoulders and let them drop as a lazy and tantalizing smile spread across his face. “I might stop if you would stop disagreeing with me.”
It was a comment which superseded her will to appear pleasant.
“You scowl very prettily,” he said as he dropped her hand and took his place opposite her in the line.
Her eyes narrowed. “You are incorrigible,” she whispered.
He leaned forward. “So I have been told many times by Mr. Linton.”
Thankfully, the music began, and their conversation was lost for a time to the patterns of the dance...
