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W hatever the time was, Evelyn didn’t want to know. All she knew was hours had passed. Several torturous hours before she had been able to knock on the glossy door before her. She was beginning to wonder if it was too late for the butler to hear when the door opened.

The butler stood there with a long face as he hastily shrugged on his coat, his thin hair messy from sleep.

As he smoothed it out, he looked her over quickly.

It was clear he recognized her from the newspapers, but he didn’t say anything about her identity.

“Young lady, do you realize what hour it is?”

“Yes,” Evelyn lied. “I apologize. But it’s an emergency. A familial predicament.” That part could be argued to be truth.

The butler took a moment to consider this and let her in.

The door shut behind her. “I cannot make any promises,” he said as he led her to a room with plush furniture and no light.

While she waited for him to rouse the lady of the house, she found matches and lit a lantern, emitting a dim glow in the large room.

Minutes ticked by and Evelyn began to question if coming here had been wise.

But what else could she do?

“Miss Spar—Mrs. McNab?” A surprised voice caused Evelyn to turn around to find Lady Litchfield in the doorway wearing a nightgown and holding a candle. She had done her best to quickly tie up her blonde hair. “Forgive me, but what are you doing here?”

Evelyn took a hesitant step forward and began to wring her hands together.

Hearing herself being referred to as “Mrs. McNab” after learning the truth about the marriage hurt more than she ever would have expected.

But as she didn’t know what, exactly, her next move would be, she decided to keep the fake marriage to herself for the time being.

“I’m so sorry, but I quite literally had nowhere else to go. ”

The marchioness set the candle down on a nearby side table and led Evelyn over to a sofa.

“We were so worried about you when we found out you had left,” Lady Litchfield said as they sat on the sofa beside each other. The marchioness looked around the room. “You and Mr. Oliver. He’s not with you, is he?”

Evelyn swallowed the lump forming in her throat. “No.”

After she’d run enough for the upset to subside, she’d tried to figure out where to go. She couldn’t walk around London all night. She couldn’t go to her parents’ house. She definitely couldn’t go back to Ollie’s.

Lady Vivian would have been with Ollie’s brother, so that wasn’t an option.

Lady Litchfield was the only person she knew who, hopefully, wouldn’t kick her to the curb. She had been kind to her before. Maybe she would take pity on Evelyn one final time.

Recently, there had been hushed gossip spreading through the parlors of London that Lady Litchfield and her husband had separated.

Lord Litchfield’s father, the Duke of Chalworth, vehemently denied these allegations.

Most accepted this, but some people, like Evelyn’s mama, remained suspicious.

More than once, Mama had had the driver pass by Lord and Lady Litchfield’s townhouse to see if Lord Litchfield could be spotted as they passed by, pointing out the townhouse each time so Evelyn’s younger eyes could remain sharp.

Quite embarrassing, really. And Evelyn hoped Lady Litchfield wouldn’t ask about this. After all, it wasn’t unusual to know which titled peer lived at which house.

Thus, she’d gone to the marchioness’s, realized the woman hadn’t returned home yet, and begun circling around the block until she had arrived.

And then she’d taken a few more circles around the block before mustering up enough courage to knock.

As she’d done all of that circling, she’d mulled over everything.

Perhaps this was obvious to others, but it had never fully occurred to Evelyn how upsetting it would be to people to run away from them. Her family knew how she was and mostly accepted it. Plus, she didn’t give much of a fig what they thought of her, either.

But she cared what Ollie thought. Oh, she cared very much, she was unfortunately realizing too late.

And she had taken advantage of his kindness. Of the fact that he’d always gone after her.

Except tonight. He’d even taken the effort to warn her he was done chasing her, which was humiliating in its own right.

But something about that felt different than the other times her emotions had sent her running. Far more final.

Ollie would never run after her again. He was tired of her. Admittedly, she would probably have been tired of her too in his position.

If only she could control that part of her better! That obsessive physical need to run, run, run.

“What do you need, Mrs. McNab? Can I help you with something?”

Evelyn put her focus back on the marchioness and tried to hide the wince she felt at hearing that name again. “My sister is going back home to Paris tomorrow and I might go with her.”

Lady Litchfield’s eyes went big. “You are? Does Ollie know?”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.” Evelyn had been steadfast on keeping the fact the marriage was fake to herself.

Unfortunately, she was a bit of mess right now and started to fall apart.

“He was kind enough to marry me to protect me legally, so I wouldn’t have to marry the earl.

Neither of us intended for it to last and we were going to separate once I was clear of the earl.

Unfortunately, we learned right after we both went outside tonight that the marriage didn’t really happen. ”

Lady Litchfield frowned. “What do you mean, it didn’t happen?”

“The license was forged.”

“Forged? By whom?”

Evelyn stammered. It would probably be best to leave out the Signature Swindler bit. “It doesn’t matter. All I know is now we know aren’t legally married. And I remain at risk of the earl. Which is why I may go to Paris tomorrow. To keep away from him.”

Lady Litchfield seemed lost in thought. “I see. And you’re totally, completely sure that is what you want?”

Evelyn hesitated, then cleared her throat. “Of course.”

“May I say something?”

Evelyn gave her a nod to go ahead.

“I’ve known Mr. Oliver for a little bit now, and I’ve long suspected he felt something deeply for you.”

Evelyn’s heart skipped a beat. She ignored it. “Why do you say that?”

“He would talk endlessly of you to me. Apparently, Vivian had told him to temper it a bit because of your involvement with the art restoration. But to me, he talked about you all the time. Anytime I saw him, he would say something like, ‘You won’t believe what Miss Sparrow told me today!’ And then he would tell me some interesting art history tidbit, or something about color theory, or the difference between twelfth-century pigments and modern pigments. ”

Evelyn’s brow furrowed. “He did? He always says he never remembers what I say.”

Lady Litchfield opened her mouth to respond, then hesitated before finally speaking.

“It was always not long after he had seen you. I don’t think he often retained the information long-term.

A few times, I had mentioned something he had told me at a later time and he looked at me like I were mad.

I’m sure he would have liked to remember it, though. ”

Charmed, Evelyn smiled a bit despite herself.

“He admires you greatly. And thinks very highly of you.”

The smile fell away, and Evelyn looked down at her hands. “For that, I am glad. But he wasn’t happy to have been married to me. He’s said so himself. He’s probably quite pleased by the unexpected turn of events.”

To Evelyn’s surprise, Lady Litchfield placed a hand over hers. And it provided the same calm she would have gotten from Cordelia. “I’m very sorry to hear that. But at dinner, he did pronounce to the entire room that you were the woman he loved.”

Evelyn looked away. She couldn’t bear to think about that moment. He had said that to everyone and she’d run away from him. Even after he’d begged her not to. “What happened after I left? Was he relieved I had gone?”

“I’m unsure. He never came back inside the house. I suspect he left to collect himself. The dining room had turned into a madhouse. I would almost be amused by it if I didn’t know half the people involved.”

Dread pulled at her belly. “What happened?”

Lady Litchfield chewed her lip. “Your father got into a scuffle with His Grace. There was a lot of shouting and yelling. I don’t know if you know this, but Mr. Oliver’s eldest brother hasn’t spoken to their grandparents since he was sixteen years old.

After their scuffle, His Grace stormed up to Mr. McNab and instead of saying something like he was glad to see him again, he reminded Mr. McNab he was the heir and one day would have to take up his responsibility, whether he wanted to or not.

” The marchioness paused. “I think the duke was upset about the scuffle and wanted to take his ire out on someone else. And also knew his little reminder would not go over well. As it was absolutely none of my business, I snuck out at that point.”

“Oh, my.” Evelyn had never considered the fact that Mr. Victor McNab would the next in line to his grandfather’s title. She had an excellent imagination and could not imagine him as a duke.

She hadn’t known much about the Duke of Invermark before all of this. It appeared her father and the duke were at odds over politics, so it made sense they ran in different circles.

“I did overhear your sister tell the housekeeper she was going to take your trunk. It didn’t make sense then, but now I understand why.”

“Oh,” Evelyn replied, feeling a sense of dread. She should be glad of Cordelia’s quick thinking, but it only made everything seem more final. That her trunk was with Cordelia put Paris more in favor.

“Where are you staying tonight?” Lady Litchfield asked gently. “If you need a place, you’re welcome to stay here.”

Hot tears stung Evelyn’s eyes. “Thank you,” she said with a shaky voice. “I feel so lost right now.”