Page 24

But now Mrs. Chapman was frowning to herself as she extended an ear, as if questioning herself.

“Whatever you heard, it wasn’t her. It’s quiet,” Ollie said in a low voice.

Then, he straightened, feeling more confident.

“Let’s make sure we only have one or two courses for the dinner. I need them out of here.”

Mrs. Chapman’s eyes went round. “One or two? Why, they will be quite offended by that, Mr. McNab. And I’ll never hear the end of it for the rest of my days.”

Ollie began walking toward the dining room, Mrs. Chapman following. He glanced back at her. “I promise I’ll fix everything with them after tonight. But right now, I need to get them out before Miss Sparrow awakens.”

Mrs. Chapman nodded with pursed lips and went in the direction of the kitchen, while he went to the dining room.

Ollie felt bad about excluding Evelyn and hiding this dinner from her, but if Fergus and Marjory discovered an unmarried woman was staying in his house, especially with this unexpected Miss Campbell business, they would spontaneously combust.

Even more so once they realized Evelyn was the runaway bride.

Dinner started off without a hitch, to Ollie’s great surprise. Soup was served first, and as was customary, discussion about the weather was the forefront of conversation for a time.

“This soup is very good,” Marjory said after finishing hers. “What is it?”

“I have no idea,” Ollie replied, poking his spoon around the soup bowl. “I see beef…and vegetables?”

“You don’t know what your cook serves?” Marjory lifted her eyebrows high.

Ollie set his spoon down and took a calming breath before responding. “Isn’t that why I have a cook? So I don’t have to think about it?”

Marjory decided not to push the subject, and the issue was thankfully forgotten when Mrs. Chapman reappeared to take the soup bowls away. But just as she grabbed the last bowl—Ollie’s—they heard footsteps coming down the hall.

Ollie’s heart stopped.

Mrs. Chapman lifted her head to look him in the eye, and the blood drained from her face.

“Is someone here?” Marjory asked with a quizzical voice. But before Ollie or Mrs. Chapman could run out of the room to stop Evelyn, she appeared in the doorway.

Ollie’s eyes anchored onto Evelyn’s. It felt as if, for a moment, time stopped.

But that moment ended when she realized the duke and duchess were present.

He had to give her credit—she didn’t react upon seeing them other than a curtsy, then she slid across the room with liquid elegance.

She had done her auburn hair in intricate braids that circled the crown of her head while the violet chiffon dress she wore hugged her slender form.

The shoulder sleeves were a tad big, and the slightly too-low neckline exposed her pale décolletage.

But despite the bad fit, it remained regal with sequins and crystals that winked at Ollie in the dim candlelight.

Evelyn commanded the attention of the room, and Ollie was sure if the room had held thirty people, every single one would have stopped to watch her.

Mrs. Chapman nudged Ollie hard and gave him a severe look. He realized his mouth was hanging open and promptly slammed it shut.

The housekeeper pulled out a chair for Evelyn as Ollie was still too stunned to do it himself. She then rushed out with the soup bowls and to gather another place setting.

Evelyn’s nearness made his heart race. So used to her in plain, woolen dresses with a simple knot in her hair, it was shocking to see her transformation from academic to aristocrat. Once he’d gotten a hold of himself, however, he realized his grandparents were staring at him with utter horror.

“I’m sorry,” Marjory forced a tight, unblinking smile. “I didn’t realize you were expecting a guest, Oliver.”

Ollie opened his mouth to speak, but Fergus interrupted with bluster. “Who in the devil are you ?”

Ollie swore under his breath. “Fergus, Marjory, this is Miss—”

Evelyn interrupted him quickly. “Annabelle Smith.”

There was a heavy pause. Ollie cleared his throat. “Right. Miss Annabelle Smith, these are my grandparents, the Duke and Duchess of Invermark.”

As she met the elder McNabs’ scrutinization, Evelyn’s discomfort was only given away by a slight paling of her face.

Ollie studied his grandparents. Did they realize she was the runaway bride?

Fergus continued his scrutinization. “Where did you come from? We’ve been here for over an hour and had no idea there was anyone else in the house.” Fergus then shot a pointed look to Ollie.

“My apologies, I only arrived a minute ago,” Evelyn said helpfully.

“A minute ago? A minute ago, Mrs. Chapman was in here and we never heard anyone ring at the door.”

“Oh, really?” was all she replied with.

Ollie resisted the urge to groan.

“Forgive me, and call me old fashioned.” Marjory forced a laugh before putting a pointed stare on Ollie. “But why is an unmarried, unchaperoned woman at your home, Oliver?”

Ollie rubbed a hand over his jaw. He could feel the anger radiating off of them. Soon, steam would be bursting out of their ears. He had seen it before.

As the silence stretched and Ollie didn’t respond, Fergus threw back his drink. Ollie knew the man well enough to know that, if he wasn’t drunk yet, he would be in mere minutes. Ollie braced himself.

“Well I…I had arrived with my…brother, who is a friend of Mr. McNab here.” She paused and looked at him, her eyes widening, as if asking for help.

“Right.” Ollie stammered as his mind tried to catch up with his mouth. “My friend Mr. Robert Smith.” Another pause. “From…the pub.” He looked away from Evelyn and over to Fergus and Marjory, who both had level faces, clearly unconvinced. He smiled at them.

“Yes! And poor Robert.” Evelyn cleared her throat. “As we arrived, he felt unwell and returned home immediately. I came in to inform Ol—I mean, Mr. McNab what had happened. Since he was expecting us. For dinner.”

Fergus and Marjory exchanged a long glance.

Fergus cleared his throat and knit his hands together on the tabletop. “What are you after, lass, his money? His name? His family legacy?”

Evelyn laughed—did she think Fergus was joking?—and raised her eyebrows sky high at this. But Ollie felt the smallest modicum of relief. His grandfather’s comment confirmed Fergus had no idea he was talking to a baron’s daughter, much less the runaway bride.

“Do you really expect us to believe that hastily concocted story? You’re one of his pub whores, aren’t you?

!” Marjory spit the word out with disdain.

“My grandson has many of them and you look like one, with that horrid, fake red hair and second-hand clothing.” Marjory stared at Evelyn’s too-low neckline, and Evelyn stiffened.

“You can’t fool us, though, lass! We can see through you as if you were the thinnest glass. ”

Evelyn’s lips parted with surprise and Ollie was sure she would never look at him the same again.

“Marjory, please.” Ollie had to placate them before the situation got worse. And he knew well enough how easily it could. Once they were set off—which they were in danger of right now—there was no calming them.

“No, Oliver,” Marjory replied, not taking her eyes off of Evelyn.

“Miss Smith, I want to be quite clear so there is no confusion between any of us. I don’t know who you are or why you are here.

Perhaps you are nothing at all to Oliver, and that is my hope.

But in case you are, know this: One week from today, my grandson will be meeting a woman of whom we are confident he will grow very fond, and both of our families are expecting a wedding in the near future. ”

Ollie glared hard at her but knew if he began talking, he would say something he couldn’t take back.

“If you have any designs on him whatsoever…” Marjory continued.

What was with everyone saying that tonight?

“Rid yourself of the ridiculous notion. We know Oliver has been flippant about life so far, but that changes now. It’s why we are here tonight.

He will be marrying a woman with class, not someone who tries too hard—and unconvincingly. ”

His grandmother could have slapped him across the face and it would have had less impact.

He couldn’t bring himself to look over at Evelyn, to see what his family had done to her.

Perhaps that was cowardly, but in the moment, he was a coward.

He clenched his teeth with anger but couldn’t bring himself to stand up to them.

Just like he couldn’t stand up to Victor.

Ollie had a death grip on the arm of his chair, the tension from his jaw now radiating throughout his body. But then, something strange happened. Beneath the table and out of view from Fergus and Marjory, Evelyn placed her hand over his.

His heart seemed to stop. It was a calming gesture, a way to say, “Let it go, Ollie.”

And it worked.

At Evelyn’s touch, at this small gesture, somehow, the anger in Ollie seemed to subside. It didn’t go away, but the intensity eased. Maybe it was simply the shock that Evelyn, who was not one he would call touchy , had her hand over his.

Either way, he was grateful she was there.

Mrs. Chapman appeared again with the new place setting, and she arranged it before Evelyn. The room remained silent, and once the housekeeper had finished her task, she hurried out again without a glance back.

Marjory stood up hastily. “Thank you for the soup, Oliver,” she said, though obviously, she wasn’t really thankful for it.

Marjory stared down Fergus, as he was still seated.

Fergus, evidently realizing his wife was watching him with daggers in her eyes, hastily wiped a napkin at his mouth and stood up.

While Marjory stormed out without another word and her nose up in the air, Fergus lingered.

“Remember, next week.” Fergus paused in consideration, glancing at the door his wife had disappeared through. “Your grandmother, she worries about you. That’s all.”

Ollie thought the way they exploded at him was a strange way to show concern, but he didn’t share that.

Fergus glanced at Evelyn and turned to leave but then paused. He spun back around and tilted his head. “You…” Fergus trailed off.

Ollie’s stomach hitched, waiting for Fergus to recognize Evelyn and take her back to the earl.

But Fergus just rubbed his chin and watched Ollie for a prolonged moment.

“Och, never mind.” Fergus waved himself off. And without another word, he left.

Ollie and Evelyn reeled. Finally, Ollie gathered up his nerve and pushed aside his humiliation. “Evelyn, I don’t know what to say. I am so very sorry about that.” He dared a glance in her direction finally, afraid he would find silent tears.

But Evelyn stared straight ahead as if she were made of stone. Her face was perhaps a bit paler, but nothing else gave away how she felt in the moment. No tears, no quivering lip. Nothing.

“But why did you come in here?” Now that everything had shockingly worked out for the best, his irritation with her mounted. “If you heard people here, why would you risk everything and come in?”

Evelyn jerked her hand away from his, as if she’d just realized it were there, and stood up. “I have to go,” she said without meeting his eye. And she sprinted out of the room.