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E velyn ran as fast as she could in the blasted, ill-fitting dress.

After escaping the dining room, she hurried down the hallway, up the million stairs without a mind to how loud her steps were— so unladylike , Mama would have said—and slammed her bedroom door shut.

After turning the brass key to lock the door, she flung herself into the bed and curled up under the blankets.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Evelyn focused on the heaving of her ribs. The tightness of the blankets that cocooned her was a small comfort and leveled off the turbulent emotions.

What awful people Ollie’s grandparents were!

When Evelyn had awoken from her nap, she had realized people had been visiting and worried at first about who they were.

Thus, she had listened in from the top of the stairs.

When she’d overheard them refer to Ollie as their grandson, though, she’d been eager to meet them.

Everyone in Ollie’s family thus far had been so lovely and had gone out of their way to help her in a time of need.

Even his oldest brother had been willing to help, despite the fact that he and Ollie were at odds with each other right now.

It hadn’t even occurred to her that his grandparents would be the exact opposite. Ollie was the one raised the longest under his grandparents’ roof, and he was also the most chipper of the three brothers. Thinking about it now, she realized she had figured his grandparents were that way, too.

Oh, how utterly stupid that was.

It made sense the duke and duchess had not believed her reason for being at Ollie’s home.

But they had made incorrect assumptions about Evelyn’s relationship with their grandson.

Even though it was strictly friendship between them, and his grandparents didn’t know the true reason why she had been present, it was utterly scandalous for an unmarried woman to be staying at an unmarried man’s home with no other guests around.

And she knew better!

Evelyn buried her face further into the mess of blankets.

The duchess’s humiliating scorn kept repeating in her mind.

The expression of disdain, the voice of disgust, the harsh words, repeat, repeat, repeat.

They’d thought Evelyn was some pub girl and had unleashed wrath upon her merely because they thought her of low birth, not a peer who could eventually be a countess.

Evelyn paused. At this point, would she even be a countess?

While she didn’t know what was happening outside of Ollie’s house, she could make a well-educated guess that her home was wild with drama and her reputation at best was now questionable.

Would the earl still want anything to do with her?

The newspapers did say that once she was found, she would be sent directly to him and not her father.

She had to assume, at least for now, that the earl still wished for her to be his bride.

She shuddered.

After a few minutes of burrowing in the blankets, Evelyn realized her breathing had leveled. She poked her head out of her cocoon to rest it upon her pillow and turned to her side to stare at the door. While the anger and humiliation had subsided, a dark melancholy had blanketed her in place.

What was all that about Ollie marrying someone? Where had that come from? He knew she was running from a similar fate, so why wouldn’t he tell her about it? Unless their friendship was one-sided.

There was a knock at the door, followed by Ollie’s muffled voice. “Evelyn?”

Evelyn didn’t respond.

Another knock, louder this time. “Evelyn, are you all right?”

Evelyn let out a long sigh and climbed out of the covers to sit on the edge of the bed.

She patted at her hair and felt it had become quite messy from the blankets, but the thought of taking it out and doing it all over again felt impossible.

The sick melancholy the duke and duchess had left behind seemed to be nestling into her stomach, heavy as a boulder, as if it were planning on sticking around awhile.

It was her fault Ollie’s grandparents had blown up at him tonight. If she hadn’t been here, they would have had a perfectly pleasant dinner. Maybe they would have talked more about Ollie getting married. Maybe he would have been happy about it.

Evelyn swallowed the lump in her throat.

It was silly for her to care. Why did it bother her imagining Ollie married to someone else?

Yes, she thought him the most handsome gentleman in three countries but never had she cared before about an attractive gentleman being married to or betrothed to another lady. Why care in this instance, then?

It made no sense.

And yet, Evelyn found herself still stuck on the subject, wondering what this woman looked like. Evelyn imagined a beautiful woman with a big chest and large, soft hips and thighs hanging on to him. Bile started to rise in her throat.

There was a rattling sound at the door just before it burst open. Evelyn yelped as Ollie rushed through the door holding a butter knife. His green eyes were round with panic.

“Why didn’t you respond?” Ollie seemed to be trying not to shout. “Didn’t you hear me calling you through the door?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t,” Evelyn lied. She just wasn’t ready to face him yet.

Ollie hurried forward and set the butter knife down on the nightstand. He rushed a hand through his hair and had a wild look he was trying to tame by tightening his face. “I shouted through the door. Numerous times. What do you mean, you didn’t hear me?”

All she could do was shrug. Ollie let out an irritated laugh.

“I don’t need you cross with me now, too!” Evelyn said sharply. “I would like to be alone now, please leave.”

“Not happening.”

She scoffed.

“You scared me halfway to death, Evelyn.” Ollie’s tone held a seriousness she had never heard from him before.

Immediately, she wanted to curl into herself.

She looked down at her lap as he continued.

“You said you had to go and then you ran off? I thought you’d left!

I went outside looking for you and couldn’t find you.

I ran up and down my street until I realized you might be up in here.

And then you wouldn’t respond to me! I couldn’t help but…

” Ollie let out a loud sigh and ran his hands through his hair again before taking a deep breath and crouching on the ground beside her. “I’m sorry about my grandparents.”

She didn’t respond.

“But why did you come down? You must have heard them—they’re so blasted loud. And you know no one should see you right now.”

Evelyn considered the question. “I was curious.”

“Curious?” Ollie asked, a bit confused.

Evelyn lifted her head enough to see his face.

“Yes. You’ve never talked much about your family, and I’ve noticed you don’t have portraits of them anywhere in your home.

I suppose I kind of wondered what the people who raised you looked like.

It didn’t occur to me they would be…like that.

Everyone in your family has been so lovely.

I just assumed they would be too. I didn’t give it any thought.

” She paused, feeling totally idiotic. “I’m sorry. ”

Ollie let out another sigh but then said, “It’s fine. It’s done, they’ll get over it—they always do—but the most important part is they didn’t know who you were. And that’s really all I care about.”

Evelyn swallowed and gave him a small nod.

Ollie stared off, thinking. “Wait. You said something about me not having portraits anywhere in my home. Is that why you were in my bedroom earlier?”

Evelyn jerked her head up to look him in the eye, her face flushed with heat.

Ollie grinned. “You must have known Mrs. Chapman would tell me.”

“I was kind of hoping she wouldn’t…”

“ Is that why you were in there?”

Why else would she have been in there? She fidgeted, embarrassed. “Yes. I apologize, Ollie. It won’t happen again.”

“Your curiosity often gets you into trouble, doesn’t it?”

Evelyn smiled slightly. “Yes, it does.”

“You’re welcome in there, anytime.”

Evelyn furrowed her brow. What was he talking about? “Where, your bedroom?”

Ollie nodded.

Evelyn was now very confused. Surely, Ollie meant she was welcome in his bedroom if she ever needed something or to talk to him. Right? “Oh. Thank you? You as well.”

“Me as well?”

“You may enter my room, too, if you ever wish to speak to me.” She glanced over at the door. “Not that you need my permission.”

Ollie chuckled with a crooked grin, one hand resting on the edge of her bed. “Right. To talk, of course.” He pulled his hand away, briefly tensing before his usual ease settled over him again. He stood up.

Something about the moment felt odd to Evelyn, but she dismissed it. “Your grandparents are very good at knowing how to dig into someone’s weaknesses.”

“What do you mean?”

Evelyn didn’t want to talk about her appearance to Ollie, so she stood up, too, and angled over to the dark-blue dress with the light-blue bow she had laid out earlier, draped over the back of a chair.

Tonight, they were going to try to hunt down the Signature Swindler, but she couldn’t do that in sequins.

The blue dress was acceptable, she supposed, but she missed her gray, woolen dresses that fit her properly.

“I really need to get my own clothing back,” she said, mostly to herself.

“No, don’t change the subject.” Ollie appeared at her side. “What did you mean just now?”

“Ollie, please, this is embarrassing.”

“Tell me,” he replied in a serious tone.

It was quite irritating how good he was at getting her to talk. She ran a finger over a seam on the dress. “It’s no secret women can be rather conscious of their appearance. And I’m no different.”

Ollie frowned. “What are you talking about?”