“Every mother sees fit for her daughter to marry a duke. Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Every mother?” she asked her arms crossing. “Does every mother ask her daughter to overlook a public humiliation or do some mothers care about their daughter’s feelings more than a good match?”
“How dare you!” her mother cried.
But a throat cleared in the doorway and her mother spun around.
Sick dread filled Evie’s stomach as her gaze slowly rose to meet the gaze of the Duke of Wingate.
What had she just done?
* * *
Pain lancedthrough Evan’s chest.
He’d heard what he needed to know.
She did not wish for his attention. It had been her mother’s idea all along. If he were being honest, he could hardly blame her. In their first meeting he’d scared her half to death and he’d rounded out their interactions nicely by humiliating her in front of the entire party.
He didn’t even like himself. How could he expect her to care?
Then again, she’d assured him she didn’t mind his temper. He knew that had been optimistic at best, but still. He considered Evie honest. Had she lied to him about that? Or had she just failed to consider, at some point, he might lose control with her?
He raked a hand through his hair, self-loathing sat like a lead ball in his stomach.
“Evan.” His name on her lips sounded like a desperate plea. For what? Understanding. He already did. He’d done this before, after all. Courted a woman who wanted to be duchess, or her family wished for her to gain the title, but that woman had little interest in him as a man.
But he’d never been quite so invested as he was with Evie.
“Aunt Edna.” He looked to his aunt, purposefully ignoring Evie’s mother. He didn’t want to talk to her any more than Evie did. “Would you be so kind as to chaperone a conversation between myself and Lady Evelyn in the library?”
“Of course,” Lady Greenburg answered.
“I shall join you—” Lady Dunstable started but Evan gave the other woman a cutting gaze. It was her right to chaperone her daughter, of course, but he was a duke and there were a few advantages to the position.
He’d speak to the daughter without the influence of the mother. “That won’t be necessary.”
She dipped her chin in acknowledgment as Evan offered his aunt his arm. He’d like to walk with Evie, feel her hand tucked against him one more time. Maybe pretend…
He knew this was his fault.
It was always his fault. But still, this time more than any other time, he wished things had gone differently.
He looked back at Evie who trailed behind them. She was different, that’s why. Better. Nicer. And she’d made him feel valued at least for a bit. She’d taught some things about himself as well, who he wanted to be for starters. She’d also shared some techniques to achieve that new person and for that he was grateful.
He drew in a few breaths as they turned into the library. His aunt promptly took herself off to a quiet corner of the room, leaving Evan to face Evie as she stood in front of him with her hands clasped.
“I didn’t mean…” she started, emotion welling in her voice.
“It’s all right,’ he said, stepping closer and placing a gentle hand under her elbow. “You don’t have to say anything. I understand.” Her mother wished for her to be a duchess. Maybe she wanted the position as well, though that didn’t exactly ring true. Still, she’d tried to like him and inevitably she’d failed.
“You do?”
“Yes.” He bent lower. “I didn’t ask you here to make you explain.”
“You didn’t?” Those blue eyes met and held his and his heart gave a lurch of regret.
“No. I’d hoped to apologize.”