It had been a most wonderful evening until dessert was served. Next to them was a covered plate full of an assortment of tartlets and as Evie helped herself to a plump pastry shell filled with berries, her mother gave a distinctive cough from the other side of the table.
Evie knew exactly what that meant. She’d made a mistake.
She looked down at the tart and let out a long breath. She shouldn’t have taken such a large treat and her choice had been noticed.
Inwardly, she winced as she pushed the tartlet with her fork.
She wouldn’t mind one night away from being a disappointment.
Gentle fingers brushed her elbow and she found herself staring into the duke’s eyes.
“Evie?” he quietly asked, her nickname on his lips sending a thrill through her.
“Yes?”
“What’s wrong?”
She didn’t need to burden him with her battle with her mother, who felt that Evie should be fashionably slender.
So instead, her gaze settled back on the offending tart.