“Message for you, Your Grace.” The boy thrust the message into Rafe’s hands and bowed once more. Rafe tossed him a few coins that he caught easily in the air before he ran off again.
“Well? Who is it from?”
Rafe leaned on the railing once more, recognizing the handwriting at once. It was from his steward, Mr. Jarvis Garfield. He tore open the seal to confirm his suspicions.
“It is from my steward.” His eyes darted over the note, taking in the information as quickly as possible. “Well, he pleads my presence. It seems, and I quote, ‘the castle in Sussex has fallen into disrepair this last year’ and I am needed.”
Suddenly, the tone of his voice softened. “The…west wing in particular… it is deteriorating.” Rafe tried to keep his voice level. The west wing was where Juliet had stayed before she died.
“Then you must see to it,” Simon said with ease. “After all, if you’re turning over a new leaf and trying to be the responsible duke again, where better to start?”
“Yes…quite,” Rafe mused as he folded up the letter and put it in his pocket, though he now fidgeted constantly. He adjusted his cravat and straightened his jacket, trying to make everything sit perfectly.
“You’re fine. There are no creases on you.”
“Thanks, old man.” Rafe smiled at his friend. Simon was just about the only person who understood his need for perfection and gave him no judgment for it. More than one valet in his time had been frightened away by his need for such high expectations to be met.
“Now, let us talk of tonight,” Simon said, taking his shoulder and urging him to walk on through the park once more. “Perhaps you will meet a genteel lady, so disguised tonight?”
“Simon, you know that is not why I am doing this.”
I need to stay away from women from now on if I’m to no longer haul around the reputation of a rake.
CHAPTERTHREE
“Mr. and Mrs. Gulliver, and their daughters, Miss Hester, Miss Bridget, and Miss Katherine.”
The family were introduced at the top of the stairs. Evelyn looked sharply at the manservant who had made the announcement. Upon seeing her glaring so openly at him, he looked down at the rest of the paper, clearly searching out her name, but he found none and shrugged.
She sighed.
Again. It is always the same.
Evelyn shook her head, showing it didn’t really matter as she followed her family down the stairs. This last year, she had a feeling that her aunt did this on purpose. Whenever they went to a ball or assembly of some kind where they had to be announced, Evelyn’s name was mysteriously left off the list. She’d tried to make a fuss the first few times, but when she’d been called difficult by her aunt, she gave up.
“This is ridiculous,” Evelyn muttered as she followed her cousins down the steps and reached the main body of the ballroom.
The entire room was draped in beautiful clothes, with cascading white flowers that were either pinned to pillars or overflowing from tall silver vases. The combination of silver and white everywhere gave the impression that winter was fast approaching, with elegant ice sculptures of swans and geese atop the tables.
As her cousins admired these sculptures, her cousins themselves were the focus of such observation. Gentlemen wandered nearer to them, some eagerly pressing for dance cards.
Evelyn backed up, increasing the distance between her and her cousins. With their beautiful blonde hair and their gowns that were all so similar, in different shades of blue, Evelyn was by far the odd one out in her white gown with the green embroidery. Somehow, she had managed to fix the tear in her mother’s gown, though she feared it would not last if Kitty stepped on it again.
Turning her back on her cousins, she wrung her gloved hands together and wandered between the crowds of people, searching out one face in particular.
He must be here. Mr. Windham said he would be here.
She had dressed specially for the occasion, with a mask adorning her face that did little to conceal her identity, to make it easier for him to seek her out. It was a perfect compliment to her gown, ivory white with small green leaves around the eyes.
Where are you?
If she could just find her gentleman, then perhaps he would eventually propose, and she wouldn’t have to worry about standing in her cousins’ shadows anymore.
The room was so crowded that she struggled to step between the groups. She squeezed her tall frame between two rather large gentlemen, only to bump into a server who carried a broad silver tray with tall wine glasses. One of the glasses toppled over and the white wine spilled over her gown.
“Oh dear. My apologies, ma’am.” The server bowed to her and made to escape, running off long before she even had the chance to utter a word.
“But…” She closed her mouth when she found he’d managed to disappear into the throngs of crowds.
