He smiled, just a little, at that. “He’s not at home, madam. Who’s to say he’ll know anything about this?”
She smiled reluctantly. Smythe had said much the same thing to her decades ago, opening a scullery window to let her climb back into the house after a night out as her father furiously searched the attics. Smythe had become the second footman when Evangeline, only a year younger at thirteen, was just embarking on her wild phase. In Sir Robert’s strict household, they’d been complementary spirits. He’d helped her avoid several punishments, usually when she’d slipped out of the house for one madcap adventure or another, and she’d helped him along in his post, letting him know her parents’ preferences and even slipping him her pin money when once he’d accidentally spoiled some table linen and needed to replace it before it was discovered.
She waved at a chair. “Will you sit with me?”
He hesitated.
She got up and strode to the drawing room door and closed it firmly. She didn’t need to compound her mistakes by compromising his authority in the household. “Please,Denny,” she said, massaging her temples with her fingertips. “I need company... to stop me from doing something very reckless indeed...”
He perched on the edge of a chair. “If I may be so bold...”
“Please!”
“Miss Bennet does not receive many callers,” he said. “Gentleman callers, I should say. I was struck by how pleased she was to see Lord Burke this morning. She must have expected him, to be awake and dressed so very early of a morning, but she also looked surprised to see him.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve known the young lady since she was an infant. Her delight was obvious.” He darted a quick glance at her. “She reminded me of you, Miss Evie, when something unexpectedly turned your way.”
Evangeline scrunched up her face ruefully. “Never say so! She’s much cleverer than I ever was.”
“As I said,” he replied with a straight face, “she’s a very sensible young lady.”
She laughed. “Not like me at all, then!” Then she threw herself into a chair. “And I can only pray my brother isn’t much like my father, where his daughter is concerned.”
“He’s not.”
She looked up in surprise. He seemed to realize how confident he’d sounded, and cast his gaze up to the ceiling, giving him a vaguely pious air. “What I meant to say is... Sir George is a thoughtful gentleman. His temper is... far milder than Sir Robert’s.”
“Thank heavens for that,” she said with feeling.
Another small smile crossed his face. “And he’s a devoted father. Beyond fond of Miss Bennet and her brother. Much more... tenderhearted than Sir Robert, if I may say so.”
“You may,” she told him warmly, “and I’m very glad to hear it.”
Smythe rose to his feet. “Chin up, ma’am,” he said bracingly. “I’ve been in this household for nearly forty years, and I’ve never yet told tales when I shouldn’t.” He pressed his lips together in exaggeration.
Evangeline smiled ruefully. “To my inestimable benefit! Thank you, Smythe. You’re invaluable.”
He bowed. “I do my best, ma’am. I daresay all this will work out well enough, with a little time, and no need for anyone to do anything reckless or inappropriate.” He left her there, and finally Evangeline heard the rattle of carriage wheels outside the house, drawing to a stop. She flew to the window and spied Joan’s bonnet as Lord Burke handed her down from the curricle. Both appeared unhurt and perfectly proper.
Thank God. Thank every saint in heaven. She pressed one hand to her breast and made a silent vow not to be so negligent again, when it came to Joan’s safety. She must keep a closer eye on the girl, for Joan’s own sake—and her own.
Then she took a deep breath before going into the hall to meet her niece.
Chapter 26
The next time Lord Burke came to call, Evangeline was ready and waiting for him.
It was plain to see that Joan was infatuated with the fellow. The viscount had taken herballooning, of all things, which nearly gave Evangeline heart palpitations, but Joan... Joan had been enthralled by it. Her face had lit up as she described rising through the morning air and gazing over the whole city of London, from St. Paul’s to Chelsea, and she’d called the viscount by his Christian name.
When Evangeline had raised a brow at that, Joan had blushed scarlet and mumbled something about knowing him since childhood, and then she’d gone silent when Evangeline prodded her about, perhaps, possibly being courted by the viscount.
It didn’t bother Evangeline; quite the contrary. It gave her a small thrill of her own that her dear niece might have fallen in love—with a handsome, charming gentleman, no less, who was clearly just as caught by Joan—and she resolved to do everything in her power to oversee this potential courtship with the utmost propriety while also doing absolutely nothing to inhibit the progress of it.
Marion couldn’t fault that, surely. Burke was a very eligible gentleman, and his hijinks weren’t really any worse than what George had got up to—nor worse than what Douglas, Joan’s brother, was still actively getting up to. Burke was in fact a close friend of Douglas’s, as Joan had told her several times. But perhaps it was time to make certain Burke knew he was being evaluated as a suitor.
“How kind of you to call again,” she said to Burke when Smythe had shown him into the drawing room.
Lord Burke’s gaze, which had strayed to the door, jerked back to hers with some evidence of alarm.
Evangeline had purposely not sent Smythe to tell Joan about their caller until after he’d shown Burke into the drawing room. “I’ve wanted to have a chance to have a word with you, sir.”
