But it was Evan who answered. “I think so too. Both beautiful and practical.”
Evie did hear her mother’s faint gasp. Slowly, she stepped around the duke, giving her mother a sympathetic smile. It was one of the rare times her mother had been silenced. Evie was used to the feeling, but her mother was not. “What have you been doing today?”
Her mother’s lips pressed together before she answered. “Lady Greenburg and I were having a lovely time touring the games together, though I grew concerned when I did not see you.”
“Here I am,” Evie answered with an overly bright smile. She wasn’t exactly afraid of her mother, and she knew she meant well, but Evie also would like just a bit more room to…well…breathe. Just be herself.
How was she going to find her future husband when her mother watched for even the tiniest toe stepping out of line?
“There you are,” her mother answered.
Evan cleared his throat. “Did you need anything else, my lady?”
“No.” Her mother shook her head. “I simply wished to check on my daughter.”
He gave a quick nod. “Then you won’t mind if we return to our game?”
“You wouldn’t think you’d want to, the way we’re losing.” Rangeley grouched behind them.
Evan grimaced but he didn’t look back at the other man as her mother answered, “Of course not.”
But Evan didn’t return to the court. Instead, he smiled at her mother. “There is a picnic tomorrow. My aunt and I will surely sit together. Since you and my aunt are so close, perhaps we should make a party of it? The four of us?”
Her mother gave the first genuine smile since she’d arrived. “Lovely idea. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow, Your Grace.”
“And I, you.”
With that her mother turned away and he looked down at her, his brows drawing together. “She’s not fond of that dress.”
“She’s not fond of allowing me choice,” Evie said, the truth of the words providing her little comfort. Though part of her understood. “In her defense, I’ve not been the most successful debutante. Whereas she was highly sought after in her day, or so I am told.”
Evan frowned after her mother. “You are exceptionally tolerant, which is to your immense credit. I struggle to give people such benefit in the face of doubt.”
His features had tightened considerably as he looked to the ground. Did he not like that about himself? That he was strong? Commanding? “A pushover you mean. I’d like to have a bit more pushback at times. Like you.”
His brows lifted as he met her gaze. “How interesting. We both admire—”
“Are we going to return to the game or not?” Rangeley asked, swinging his mallet again this time in clear irritation.
Evan turned to him, his face darkening. “Patience,” he gritted out through clenched teeth.
“Funny, you schooling me on that,” Rangeley bit back.
Anger burned in his brain as drew in a deep breath to attempt to hold it at bay.
Evie touched his arm again, her gentle fingers helping him to calm. He looked down into her clear blue eyes, drawing in several more breaths as his anger receded.
“Thank you,” he said to her.
She gave him a kind smile. “You’re welcome.” And then she threaded her arm through his. “Shall we?”
“Let’s continue.”
The second half of the game went much better, though he and Rangeley lost. Not that he’d have it any other way.
And he already had plans with Evie again tomorrow. Perhaps Rangeley was right about marriage. Evie suited him and he’d do his best to make her happy.
Though that tiny voice of doubt crept into his thoughts. What if he couldn’t? What if he’d always just be too much?