CHAPTERFOUR
Evan caughtthe look of condemnation coming from Evie’s mother and his jaw clenched.
The countess was an attractive older woman, thin and straight as was the fashion, but the look had never been to Evan’s taste.
He’d always preferred women who looked like Evie. Lush curves and a softness of body and heart.
He leaned closer, his fingers just grazing her elbow in an effort to be discreet. “Mrs. Derby would be offended if you did not eat your tartlet.”
The answering blush that crept up her cheeks told him he’d read the situation correctly. “I would never wish to offend Mrs. Derby.”
But she didn’t pick up her fork either.
He let out a low noise of dissent as he took a tartlet of his own from the nearby tray. Then, while staring at the countess, he took a large bite.
He’d never been particularly discreet and he especially didn’t wish to be now.
He could see that the countess’s reprimand hurt Evie. Her entire face had fallen. Did the countess do so often? Did she want her daughter to be thinner?
Ridiculous.
Evie had the sort of body that had been idolized in paintings for centuries. Did it hurt Evie that her mother wished for her to be something she wasn’t? He watched as she pushed the tartlet about her plate.
“Can I confess something to you?” He leaned close again, almost unable to stay away.
She peeked at him through her lashes, her fork finally forgotten. “Please do.”
How did a man say what he wished to say without being offensive? They were newly acquainted. “Poussin would have begged for a model such as you.”
Evie turned red. Not just a light blush but absolutely scarlet. “You’re comparing me to a baroque painting?”
“I am,” he said low and deep. He wished he could hold her waist again or run his finger down the velvet of her cheek. “Though truth be told, you’re far more pleasing than that.”
Her lips parted as she stared at him. “You…you called me beautiful earlier.”
“I did. And I meant it.”
Her chin dipped. “I’m not of the fashion, you know, I—”
He waved his hand in dismissal. “Fashion comes and goes but your sort of beauty will always capture the imagination. It is classically timeless for a reason.”
He’d never considered himself particularly good with words but he’d found them for her sake and her answering grin warmed his insides too.
And then she lifted her fork and took a bite of her tart.
Quite without meaning too, his next words popped out before he could hold them back. “That’s my Evie.”
Her next bite stopped halfway to her mouth. “Your Grace?”
He’d been rather familiar this evening and though he’d never shared his given name with a woman before, somehow, he wished to hear it on her lips. “My name is Evan.”
This time when she nipped at her bottom lip, the playful dancing of her eyes stole his breath. “Evan.”
He nodded. “Tell me that I’ll see you again tomorrow.”
“It is a house party. I expect we’ll see each other a great deal over the next week.” And then she gave a breathy laugh that had him chuckling in return.
But that laughter died the moment that Evie left his company and his aunt took up her place. He was walking up the stairs, eager to retire and be alone with his thoughts, when his aunt fell in step next to him. “So?”