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“I fail to see how two bruised potatoes could cost that exorbitant amount, sir.”

“Exorbitant!” Mr. Chester glared at her, but his eyes twinkled. “I’m insulted, Miss Spencer. Wounded down to my toes. My heart is bruised!”

“Perhaps if you throw in that misshapen turnip, I may be persuaded to purchase your bruised potatoes. But,” Evie held up a hand, “I think it exceedingly shabby you would try to foist them on me.”

She’d first come to the markets to purchase food for the household and other necessities with their cook/housekeeper. Evie had then taken her time getting to know several of the vendors. Mr. Chester was her favorite.

“Foist, is it?” He puffed out his broad chest and stroked his moustache.

“Foist,” Evie confirmed.

“Oh, very well, but I will not give you both these carrots,” he said placing them in the small pile of vegetables before her.

“Excellent. Because I will not accept them.”

After the haggling portion of her vegetable purchasing was over, she kissed Mr. Chester’s cheek and wandered on.

Mrs. Humphries would be somewhere haggling also.

The markets were loud, the air permeated with so many scents she couldn’t identify them. Meats, poultry, fish, and vegetables, there was so much to look at and buy here. The place was alive with noise and color. Evie loved it.

She only purchased what their household needed, and usually one treat for herself and one for Mrs. Humphries to eat on the return journey.

“He’s a handsome one,” Miss Furner, behind the bread stall said.

Evie, who had been studying the array of loaves on her table, turned to see who she was talking about. She tensed. Lord Hamilton was walking toward her.

Drat. She’d left the house deliberately hoping to avoid him. She wasn’t ready for the conversation he wanted to have. It had been a cowardly move, but she was tired from tossing and turning all night and needed to be at her best when they talked again.

Her eyes were itchy and tired, and her body weary from replaying his proposal and the consequences if she said yes, or no, inside her head. She had no wish to battle wits with this man when she was not her usual self.

Turning away, she looked for an escape route, even as she knew it would be futile. The man would catch her if she ran, as he had last night. Evie walked toward him instead of away. You are no coward, she reminded herself.

Life was excessively unfair. It was not her fault her father was hopeless with finances, and yet here she was, presented with two men wanting different things from her, neither of which she wanted to accept. Tamping down the frustration, Evie forced herself to smile.

“Lord Hamilton.” She sank into a curtsey. “How lovely to see you, and here of all places.” Her words rang with insincerity.

“Miss Spencer.” He bowed deeply, a mocking smile on his face as if he knew it was not lovely at all.

She found it excessively unfair that he looked his usual vital self. No smudges from worry or lack of sleep under his eyes. His face was not pale or wan as hers likely was, but a healthy glow tinged his cheeks.

In that moment she loathed him for who he was. A man who needed no one for his survival. A man who could wake and dress in that deep blue jacket of the highest quality, and the blue and gray striped waistcoat. Everything about him screamed wealth and confidence.

Horrid beast.

“Is there a reason you are fixing that dark scowl on me, when all I’ve said is your name?”

“How did you find me?”

“I called at your house, as I’d said I would, but you were not there.”

She refused to blush over that. They both knew she’d left the house to avoid him.

“Your father told me you had gone to Covent Garden,” he added.

Evie fought the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose.

“Allow me to carry your bag, Miss Spencer.” He reached for the handle, but she held fast.

“I can carry my own bag, thank you.”

“And yet it would be ungentlemanly of me not to,” he said with a hard tug, which pulled it from her grasp.

“You are always ungentlemanly!” she snapped.

“Did you rise on the wrong side of the bed this morning, Miss Spencer? It seems to me you are out of sorts.”

“Of course, I’m out of sorts, so stop toying with me,” Evie snapped. “Tell me someone who wouldn’t be, considering my circumstances.”

“Perhaps we could have this conversation in private?” His free hand took her wrist and then he was walking, and Evie had little option but to follow as his long strides led her toward the exit.

“Can I be of assistance, Miss Spencer?”

“I am to, ah, talk with Lord Hamilton briefly, Mrs. Humphrey. If you will take my bag also, please, I shall see you shortly at home.”

The Spencer cook/housekeeper studied Lord Hamilton for long seconds, and then nodded. She held out her hand, and he passed her the bag he’d taken from Evie.

“I’ll just walk behind you,” Mrs. Humphrey then said, clearly not trusting Lord Hamilton. Clever woman.

“In that case, I’ll carry that bag as yours looks heavy,” Lord Hamilton said surprising both women. He took the bag back from Mrs. Humphrey.

Evie couldn’t be sure, but thought Humphrey had told his wife exactly what Evie got up to at night when she was impersonating a Frenchman. The woman had said a few cryptic comments in her hearing that told her she was not impressed.

She was sure the Spencers’ household staff were not like others. They seemed happy to offer their opinions freely at any given time.

“Well then, shall we?” Lord Hamilton said walking and towing Evie with him. “I feel as if I just passed some kind of test with Mrs. Humphrey, who I guess is your butler’s relation?”

“Wife,” Evie snapped. “And not a maid, so she should not be walking behind us.

“I am not your enemy, Evie, and the offer came from her not I.”

Her name coming from his lips was a shock.

“You can’t call me that,” she rallied.

“Possibly not, but your family did earlier, and I like it,” he said. “Somehow it makes you appear approachable. A facade that I am fully aware is not true.”

“We all live behind facades, my lord. You are not the most approachable man either.”

“I would never lay claim to such a thing,” he replied calmly.

“I don’t give you permission to use my name, however,” she said. “Unhand me at once.”

“You sound like the heroine in one of those ghastly novels my aunts would read.”

“Yes, well, one wouldn’t expect someone like you to lower yourself by reading such a book.”

Evie couldn’t be sure but thought he sighed. “Surely, as your fiancé, I should be allowed to call you Evie?”

“Where are you taking me?” she demanded instead of answering his question. “And you are not my fiancé.”

“Somewhere I cannot wrap my hands around your neck and squeeze, which means we need to stay in public.”

“I can’t believe you just said that!”

“I’m quite sure other people have spoken to you in such a manner before, considering your caustic nature.”

“Yes, well, from what I’ve seen, your nature is hardly sunny, my lord. In fact, I believe some refer to you as ruthless, and other less flattering descriptions.”

She shot him another look in time to see his lips tighten.

“Listening to gossip, Miss Spencer. I thought better of you.”

“There is always a thread of truth to gossip.”

“I found you last night in men’s clothes gambling, Miss Spencer. I got you home safely and offered a proposition that would aid us both for the remainder of the season. Perhaps you could think about that instead of my ruthless nature?”

She could almost believe she’d hurt him.

“Forgive me,” Evie said. “I did not sleep well, and I am never at my best when things are not within my control.”

“I cannot fault you for that, as I am the same,” he said in a somber tone.

“Where are we going?”

“To take tea. My stomach is empty, and I am never at my best then either.”

“Tea?”

“It’s a beverage that is poured from the spout of a teapot. Some drink it with milk, others honey, I believe.”

“No, really?” Evie muttered.

He led her across a road after these words and into a lane she’d never entered before. He stopped before a narrow wooden door in need of a fresh coat of paint. Looking up, Evie saw a small sign with the words The Best Tea in London.

“It’s the truth,” he said, following her eyes. “It’s tucked away, but people know of its reputation for excellent scones and tea.”

“I don’t think I should be seen alone taking tea with you, my lord.”

“Possibly not, but your—” He looked behind them to where Mrs. Humphrey stood a few feet back. “What is her position?”

“Cook/housekeeper,” Evie said, as there seemed no point lying now.

“Cook/housekeeper is with us.”

“A lady’s reputation can be easily damaged,” Evie said.

“Yes, it can, but then a person who gads about in men’s clothes is not someone to question that, surely. Besides, we are to be betrothed. I’m sure it’s fine to be seen with me.”

“We are not to be betrothed,” she said firmly.

He opened the door after placing a kick to the bottom left corner as it was sticking and nudged her inside.

“Come along, Mrs. Humphrey,” he added.

Delicious scents hit Evie, and she inhaled deeply. The interior was small, and she had to add, shabby, but most of the tables were full of people.

“Stop pushing me about the place, my lord,” she hissed when a large hand, now on her spine, continued to direct her.

“Move your feet and I won’t have to.”

She muttered something unflattering beneath her breath.

“I have excellent hearing, Evie. Perhaps you might remember that. Now, sit.” He pulled out a chair. “I will return shortly.”

“My name is Miss Spencer,” she said.

He waved Mrs. Humphrey into a seat at the table behind them, then Lord Hamilton took the one across from Evie.

“Relax, Evie,” he said as her fingers tapped the table.

“I should not be here with you, my lord, but as I am, then say what needs to be said, and I shall leave.” Evie took control of the conversation.

“Tea and cakes for Mrs. Humphries,” Lord Hamilton pointed to the table behind them, “and the same for us,” he added to the young girl who took their order. “Four fruit buns also.”

“Please,” Evie snapped. “And you can’t eat all that.”

“Please, and I can, because you will help me.”

“I am not hungry,” she lied. In fact, she was and had planned to eat something on her walk home until he’d appeared.

He studied her again. “You are an exceedingly stubborn woman, aren’t you, Evie?”

“Miss Spencer,” she snapped. “It is not right for you to call me Evie.”

“Very well, let us get down to business,” he said looking like a lion with the appearance of being relaxed, but ready to swipe you with a paw if necessary.

What she wanted to do was walk out the door, but she was also no coward. He knew things about her that could ruin her family. She had to stay and listen to what he said.

“I need a fiancée for the remainder of the season, and you need someone to help remove you from the clutches of the perfidious Cavendish. Shall we make a deal?”

“I’m not sure I should,” Evie said.

“Because?” He raised a dark brow.

“Because then I am not available to marry anyone, should they ask,” Evie said battling the rush of heat she felt filling her cheeks. “I’m sure my sister will attract an offer, but what if she does not? I need to be…” Her words fell away as she grappled to find the right ones.

“The standby, should your sister fail?”

Evie nodded.

“Just so I’m clear,” he said. “Your family’s financial situation is dire?”

The shame of those words had Evie looking to the left, and away from his piercing gaze.

“Yes or no, Evangeline?”

“Miss Spencer, and damn you, yes,” she whispered, still not looking at him. “We have the funds that I have won, but they will not last long. It is extremely expensive to live in London and have a season.”

“The shame is not yours.” The soft-spoken words had her looking at him again. “As I am sure it is because of you that your family have kept up appearances,” he added.

“Is there a point you wish to make, my lord?”

His smile was small.

“That you need money, and I can help you with that if you will help me.”

Their tea arrived then, so she said nothing further. Mrs. Humphrey looked more than happy with her situation when Evie glanced at her.

Once they were alone again, she said, “Why do you want to help me, Lord Hamilton?”

“Because, like you, I have no wish to marry until I must. My aunts are determined to change that.”

“You are an earl. Surely you can just say no?” Evie asked before giving in and picking up a fruit bun.

“I have no wish to discuss my reasons with you or anyone.” The words came out clipped.

“And yet I must tell you everything?” Evie said. “A man I barely know or trust.”