“And glad your aunt talked you into coming.” There was a note of exasperation in the man’s voice, as though he wished to add the word finally to the end of that last sentence. Evan bristled. But he pushed the feeling back down. Had he imagined the other man’s condemnation?
“Here I am.”
“And that stunt with the carriage?” the other man asked, his chin notching.
Evan had not presumed the tone after all. His jaw clenched as his eyes narrowed. “Your welcome has been so warm, why would I have wanted to miss this?”
Cousin Everett’s nose snapped in the air. “You’ve never been good at taking a bit of reproach, no matter how deserved.”
“And you’ve always inserted yourself into business that wasn’t yours,” he bit back, his tone hard as granite.
The other man let out a grunting breath. “Being a duke does not mean that you can disrespect your elders.”
“Being old does not always mean you deserve respect.”
“Cousin Everett,” his aunt sang out, quickly making her way over to the two men. “Your lovely bride looks overwarm already. The terrace is lovely this time of evening. Perhaps she’d like a quiet stroll.”
Everett let out a grunt of irritation but dutifully offered his arm to his red-faced bride and then stalked down the hall toward the open doors. Whether her cheeks were that color from the heat or her embarrassment over the conversation, he couldn’t say.
His aunt tapped his arm with her fan. “Why do you let him bait you?”
“Why does he bait?”
“How many times have I told you that you can’t control other people, only yourself?”
Many, many times. But he harrumphed his answer as his aunt thread her arm through his. “I couldn’t say.”
She frowned as she rolled her eyes. “Evan. What am I to do with you?”
“I couldn’t say,” he repeated, still irritated by Everett and feeling surly in general.
“Enough of that,” she started walking, pulling him along. “I saw Evie making eyes at you. Why don’t we go say hello?”
“Evie?”
His aunt laughed. “Lady Evelyn. Apologies. The nickname just suits her so well. It’s sweet and warm but still exceptionally lovely, don’t you think?”
Evie. He liked the name a great deal. His gaze found her again standing at her mother’s side. “I haven’t known her long enough to say.”
His aunt let out the smallest sigh of disappointment. “Tonight is the perfect opportunity to change that.”
They reached Evie and Lady Dunstable, a blush already creeping up Evie’s cheeks. Was she embarrassed? He had soaked her in pudding.
Her gaze broke from his as her chin dropped.
“Good evening, Lady Dunstable, Lady Evelyn. You remember my nephew?”
“Of course, Your Grace,” Lady Dunstable answered with a well-practiced smile. But Evie’s head had yet to lift. “Evie,” her mother gave the back of Evie’s arm a bit of a pinch.
The irritation just under the surface flared again. Who could blame her if she didn’t wish to converse with him? Their first conversation had been a disaster. If mothers would cease pushing their daughters in front of him, perhaps he’d not be distracted from the women who might actually like him.
Evie’s chin snapped up, her lips pressing together before she dipped into a curtsey. “Your Grace.”
Was she upset with him? Who could blame her? But if she didn’t wish to speak with him, it was going to be long evening.
* * *
Evie gave herself a mental shake.Why had she just frozen up? She knew the rules. They’d been instilled in her since she was a small girl. Perhaps she didn’t agree with every single one of them, but she certainly knew them.