Page 5

“E vie, have mercy. Must we walk home yet again from the dressmakers?”

“If we are to dress as young ladies should, then indeed we must, and a hackney costs money. We are saving our funds for when appearances suggest we need to ride in one. Besides, a walk in the sunshine will lighten your foul mood.”

“My mood is just fine, and I think it deuced unfair that father may sit about the place and we are walking everywhere, when all this is his fault. He even went to his club today, can you believe? As if he’d not a care in the world.”

She looked at Prudence. There were only five years between them, but sometimes she felt like it was ten.

Evie had aged considerably since her father walked into their front parlor one evening many months ago, while they were still mourning the death of their mother, and stated they were in dun territory.

No funds were available, and they would likely end up in the poorhouse as his investment in a gold mine had failed.

One would expect this news to be delivered in a somber tone, with a lot of hand wringing. Not the case at all. Lord Heathcliff Spencer, first son of the late Baron Spencer, was smiling. In fact, that was the look he wore most often, even a year after the passing of his beloved wife.

Not that he was mean spirited or even enjoyed telling his two daughters that he’d ruined their life. No, it was just his way. Their father was a simpleton, but one his daughters loved very much, even when they were angry with him, which they both were.

“If we are to keep up appearances, then father must still go to his club,” Evie said looking up at the late afternoon sky, which seemed darker with the threat of rain that had not been there when they left the house earlier.

The Spencers had carefully planned what events they would attend this season.

Tonight they were to stay home, which suited Evie perfectly.

Her feet hurt, as did her jaw from all the smiling, and she relished the idea of a night seated in a chair reading.

Of course, there was always the option to slip out and make some money too, but she’d think about that later.

“I still question why he didn’t speak up. Perhaps then we could have saved ourselves from this drudgery,” Prue said as they trudged up the street.

“You are going out to balls and society functions most evenings. Surely that is not drudgery,” Evie protested.

“The rest of it is drudgery. The charade of being wealthy, and yet living a frugal life.”

“Hardly that when compared to those that clean out chimneys or scavenge the Thames or sewers for their survival. Maids who clean chamber pots and—”

“This again.” Prue sighed.

“Yes, that again. We are the lucky ones, Prue. Never forget that. And when you marry someone, then our life will change again, unlike those who will continue to live a truly horrible existence.”

Prue’s face scrunched into distaste, but she wisely did not speak again.

“I think you will marry first,” Prue said suddenly. “That man, Lord Cavendish seems quite taken with you.”

Evie couldn’t hide the shudder. There was just something off with the man that she couldn’t put her finger on. She felt like he was watching her closely, and he never missed the opportunity to touch her intimately, which was usually followed with an apology, as if it had been an accident.

“We’ve discussed this. You are our best chance at achieving a marriage. I also have no wish to wed Lord Cavendish,” Evie said. “I know I should, as he is wealthy, but I don’t like him, Prue.”

“Then you will not marry him, Evie. We both agreed, we must at least like our future husbands.”

“Yes.” Evie yawned.

“You are always tired.”

“We stay out late.”

“You also stay up reading by candlelight, Evie.”

If her sister actually knew what she was doing, she’d be horrified.

Their father was with them in London, for appearance’s sake. In fact, everything the Spencers did was for that, but all those things took money, of which they did not have a great deal. She was taking steps to ease the financial burden, but the risk could far outweigh the reward.

Evie tamped down the fear that was her constant companion. They were all right, and would achieve what they needed to this season, she had to keep telling herself.

“Oooh, look at that bonnet!” Prue cried suddenly. She then hurried to press her face to the glass of the shop window.

Evie allowed her sister to dream as she stayed near the road.

New lace and trimmings were added to repurpose old bonnets in the Spencer family. Running through what they had, she thought about how to rework one that would make Prue smile. Perhaps they could afford some ribbon?

Oblivious to people milling about around her, Evie continued working through things in her head.

“Watch out, Miss Spencer!”

She looked down the street at the words and saw the riderless horse galloping her way. Before Evie could flee, someone hurled more words at her.

“Move, you fool!”

Hands grabbed Evie, yanking her out of harm’s way. She was spun, and the thud of hooves sounded close and then galloped away.

Evie’s heart thudded as she became aware of the hard body holding her. Arms banded tight around her waist from behind.

“Are you all right?” someone rasped in her right ear.

“Yes. Th-thank you,” Evie said, stepping forward when the arms released her. Turning, she encountered a pair of amber eyes. Why him of all people? “I assure you I was moving out of the way, my lord. There was no need for you to grab me.”

“Not quickly enough, Miss Spencer,” Lord Hamilton snapped. “One would think by now you would have learned your lesson and looked where you were going.”

His bruise was fading now, but it simply added to the picture of a dissolute rake as far as she was concerned. Other than the night of the musical, she’d done her best to avoid him.

“You ran into me when first we met, Lord Hamilton. I concede I was in part to blame, but I will not take all of it.”

Unlike her, he looked his usual immaculate self, except his hair that was too long. Evie cursed herself for wearing one of her old dresses with a hem that was too short and worn boots. She should always be prepared to run into someone from society.

“Perhaps, if I may offer a suggestion, Miss Spencer?”

“I am, of course, all ears, Lord Hamilton. To receive advice from one such as you is surely an honor,” Evie said with zero sincerity, but a fake smile on her face.

“You are a mouthy woman.” His eyes narrowed.

“Forgive me,” Evie added quickly, realizing how churlish she was being. “Allow me to thank you for rescuing me, my lord.”

“Those words sounded like they were forced through a sieve,” he said, glaring down at her.

Evie slowly counted to ten before answering. She could be the better person here.

“Are you counting in your head, Miss Spencer?”

“I have apologized, my lord. Perhaps you could simply accept that and not question the delivery?” Evie gritted out, her smile strained. “After all, I’m sure there have been times in your life when you’ve apologized, considering how you live it?”

“And how do I live it?” His amber eyes were narrowed to mere slits now.

“I’m quite sure I don’t need to tell you,” Evie said and then sighed. “I have apologized, Lord Hamilton, and now I think we should continue to ignore each other.”

“Yet I question its sincerity.”

“Now, who is being petty?” Evie muttered, looking around her. She spotted Lord Hamilton’s hat just in time to watch a carriage wheel roll over it.

“Children are petty, as are silly young ladies. I am not.” The words came out a growl.

“Oh dear. It seems your manservant will have his work cut out for him, my lord,” Evie then added.

His eyes followed hers to where the black hat now lay flattened. A gust of wind had his thick dark curls ruffling in the cool London air. He returned his glacial gaze to Evie once again. She saw him then as others did. The dark lord many feared. A man who could crush her if he chose to do so.

“Evie!” Prue arrived before Lord Hamilton could speak, and she had to say she was relieved about that.

“I’m all right, Prue,” she said.

“Lord Hamilton saved you,” Prue added. “Thank you, my lord. It was a brave thing to do.” Her sister followed these words with a pretty smile, which made Lord Hamilton’s eyes narrow suspiciously.

Rat. How dare he look anything but pleased to see Prue. After all, she was the sweet Spencer. But then he rarely smiled at anyone.

“Miss Prudence Spencer.” He gave an insultingly shallow bow.

“My lord.” Prue curtsied, and Evie stayed upright, unmoving.

He raised a single brow slightly at her.

She dipped, with great reluctance, realizing that anyone could be watching and it would not do for the murmurs of Evie’s ill manners to circulate through the ton.

His ill manners, however, were accepted, which was deuced unfair.

“’Tis a lovely day for a walk,” Prue said, doing what she did best. Putting people at ease.

“Miss Spencer!” The words came from behind her and had Evie’s back stiffening. “Is there a problem I can aid you with?”

If Evie hadn’t been looking at Lord Hamilton, she would not have seen the flash of rage that was quickly masked with his usual insolent expression at Lord Cavendish’s words.

“I need no help, thank you, Lord Cavendish,” Evie said when the man moved to her side and stood far too close.

“I saw the entire thing. That horse should be whipped for running at you.”

“The horse bolted, Cavendish. I fail to see how it could be his fault,” Lord Hamilton said with that mocking smile Evie loathed. He then walked away without another word.

“Stay away from that man, Miss Spencer,” Lord Cavendish ordered.

“I beg your pardon?” Evie said. The man’s lips were now twisted in an angry snarl, his eyes on Lord Hamilton’s back.

“He is dangerous with a black reputation. I insist you keep your distance from him.”

“You insist?” Evie said slowly. No one insisted anything of her, and especially not a man she barely knew. “You have no say in what I—”

“I like you, Miss Spencer, very much. I watch over the people I like.” The words sounded like a threat to Evie.

“I don’t need anyone watching over me, my lord, and I will thank you to remember that.”

He leaned in closer. It was an intimate gesture to anyone looking. As if he would kiss her.

“You are a lady who deserves to be worshipped and cosseted, Miss Spencer. It’s my hopes that one day—”

“No,” Evie said quickly. “I-ah, I’m not looking—”

“Oh, look at the time. We are due at an appointment, Lord Cavendish. Terribly sorry, but we must leave. Good day to you,” Prue said, sliding her hand through Evie’s arm.

Evie saw Lord Cavendish’s eyes narrow, but at least he straightened, putting distance between them again.

“I will see you at the next society event, Miss Spencer. We will waltz together and continue with this conversation.”

Evie felt frustration rise inside her. Lord Cavendish had all but outright declared his intentions toward her, and it was selfish of her to hate that… him. Her family needed the safety of such a match, and all she could think about was that married life with him would be hell.

“Evie, I thought he may make you a good husband, but I’ve changed my mind. He makes my skin crawl, and you shall not marry him.”

“He revolts me,” Evie said bluntly. “I would rather marry a rat.”

“Yes, but both he and Lord Hamilton are important men, and a single word from either would harm your reputation… our reputation. You must tread carefully.”

Evie exhaled loudly, in a very unladylike manner. “I will have to dissuade Lord Cavendish’s attentions without insulting him. That will not be easy. Lord Hamilton is not a problem, however, as he dislikes me as much as I dislike him.”

“There is certainly something between you when he is near,” Prue said.

“It’s called animosity at first sight.”

“Very likely. He is a man with a dark reputation, but I don’t feel he is as horrid as Lord Cavendish,” Prue added. “Rude, arrogant, but not mean. I do not feel that in him.”

“Oh please,” Evie scoffed. “You cannot know that. He is feared by everyone and drinks and does other things that rakes do.”

“He has nice aunts, however.”

“You can hardly credit him for that. He was born with them,” Evie said.

Prue let out a loud sigh. “Perhaps you are right. Playing ladies is not easy, Evie, but we have only a single season to do so, or end our days in poverty, living in a stable back in Chipping Nodbury.”

“Hardly that,” Evie said. “We are not done in yet.”

“Perhaps that is an exaggeration, but our lodgings will be small, and we will both have to find employment. You will tutor spoiled young ladies on etiquette, and I will look after horrid young children or take in sewing.”

She shot her sister a look. “You’ve given this a lot of thought clearly.”

“Of course. It is important to have a second option, should the first not work.”

“Always good to be prepared, but why is it you get to be with the children, and I take the young ladies?”

“They will respect you more due to your age.”

“Thank you for that, but we are not that far apart.”

“Five years is a lot by society standards,” Prue said unhelpfully.

“And there was me thinking I could treat you to a fruit pie—”

“Oh, please do!” Prue shrieked.

“Very well, let us find somewhere that sells them.”

As they walked, she came up with ideas to dissuade Lord Cavendish.

She had to say something that did not offend but convinced him she would not be a suitable wife, because life with that man would be horrible.

There was much Evie would sacrifice for her family, but she hoped it did not come to that.