“It is not the dress that I am talking about,” Ambrose conceded. “Rather the sentiment behind it.”
“You should know already that I do not concern myself with sentimentality,” Evan reminded his friend.
“Yes, but we have been friends for a long while,” Ambrose shrugged. “It shouldn’t really be too awful to letsomesentimentality slip through every now and then.”
Evan considered his words for a moment. It was true— he was one of his oldest and closest friends.
“It has been a while,” he agreed.
Evan thought back to his childhood—when he would walk these same streets alone. Back then, he neither had the company of a friend nor the money to shop at expensive places as he did now.
How time changes everything.
“And it has been a ride,” Ambrose grinned.
“I suppose I should thank you,” Evan blurted out, surprising even himself.
“For what exactly?” Ambrose narrowed his eyes at him. There wasn’t any space for sorrys and thank yous when it came to their friendship.
“You know what I mean,” Evan exhaled. “For not treating me like an outsider when I inherited the title.”
Ambrose studied him for a long moment, then said simply, “You were never an outsider to me.”
They had met years ago when Evan had still been a self-made man but not yet a titled one. Ambrose had been beaten by Evan in a card game. Quickly, that acquaintance had transformed intoa business relationship. Their first business deal had been a tense affair with neither man willing to trust easily.
Through Ambrose, he had also met Nicholas, who had also come to be one of his closest friends.
In fact, both of them had been the only two men of standing who had not turned their backs when Evan’s title had come into play.
Evan had not forgotten that. He was not one to forget those who were kind to him and those who weren’t.
He gave Ambrose a small nod. “Whatever the case, it is worth acknowledging.”
“Is that a trace of sentimentality, I hear?” Ambrose grinned. “First, the dress and now, this acknowledgment. Marriage truly has changed you.”
Evan rolled his eyes. His friend was back to being the same insufferable presence he loved being.
“Do not mistake this for sentimentality,” he replied.
“Oh, but it’s so hard not to.”
They continued walking, but his thoughts drifted once more. First to the gown that he had just purchased and then to his wife.
And to the annoying realization that he was looking forward to seeing her wearing it.
CHAPTER 13
“Did you misplace a dressmaker somewhere, Your Grace?”
Evan glanced up from his chair near the fireplace. Isadora had just stormed in, the emerald gown draped over her arm like a battle flag.
“Good evening to you too, sweetheart.”
Isadora huffed, holding up the dress as evidence. “This was in my room.”
“I am aware.”
She narrowed her eyes. “And I assume you know how it got there?”
