“Forever is a long time, pet. Sure of him, are you?”
“I am sure of my husband. What I am less certain of is you.”
The words slipped out, driven by anxiety Evie couldn’t contain.
Harkness jerked her head, her steel-grey curls bouncing like springs. “You would question my loyalty? After everything we have been through together? Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”
The hurt in her companion’s eyes would have made Evie scramble for an apology—but a flash of guilt followed. Evie felt as if someone had suddenly yanked on her corset strings. Her lungs constricted, despair suffocating her.
No, no, no. Not you, Harkness. I can’t bear it.
Yet she couldn’t ask what she wanted to and had probably revealed too much already.
“You misunderstand.” It took all her willpower to summon a contrite tone. “What I meant was I am uncertain about how you are faring these days. Our recent talks have revolved around my problems, at the expense of any you may have. I have noticed that you haven’t seemed yourself. Is there…is there something amiss? Anything you wish to discuss?”
Loyalty and love made her open the door. If Harkness confessed now, then perhaps the situation could be salvaged. Or perhaps there was another explanation for the incriminating evidence?—
“Nothing is amiss.” Harkness’s denial came as swiftly as a blade in the back. Her gaze darted to the side before returning to Evie’s. “It is kind of you to inquire.”
“Of course.” Evie smiled, her heart cracking. “What are friends for?”
Chapter Thirty-One
“There is no need to be nervous,” James murmured.
“Isn’t there?” Evie whispered back. “All eyes are upon us tonight.”
They stood at the top of the stairs that descended into the boisterous ballroom. The mirrored walls magnified the size of the crowd. Skirts in a rainbow of hues swirled, jewels glittered, and voices and music blended into a dull roar. As they waited to be announced, guests studied them with open curiosity.
Taking his wife’s gloved hand, James kissed it.
“Beauty such as yours will always draw attention,” he said.
She was a vision in her vibrant pink gown, which complemented her fair coloring and made her look like a shy angel. In contrast, her eyes brimmed with sensual warmth and lively intelligence. Her neckline was more daring than usual; he knew she’d chosen it to draw attention to the diamonds, but he thought the creamy mounds of her breasts were far more enticing than any jewels. In short, she was exquisite, and any hot-blooded man would look twice.
Protectiveness surged through James. He would stay close to her tonight.
“They are looking at you, not me,” she said. “You are the celebrated personage. I am merely an accessory.”
As endearing as he found her lack of vanity, she was utterly wrong.
“You are no one’s accessory,” he said. “As fellows will be vying for a place on your dance card the minute we get down there, I wish to reserve the waltzes now.”
“Well, then. I shall see if I can fit you in.”
At her impish smile, he couldn’t resist bending to her ear.
“You fit me in fine last night,” he said in a low voice. “In fact, I seem to recall you requesting that I go even deeper.”
To his delight, Evie’s cheeks pinkened and matched her gown. As she wore this most charming of blushes, they were announced. They descended into the gilt-and-marble pit and were immediately swept up in the social tide. Knowing how the game was played, James sought out the influential members of his party. He danced with their wives while they danced with his. Although he would prefer to monopolize Evie’s dance card—an impulse his mama would undoubtedly chide him for—he was proud of her poised performance.
She danced, smiled, and yes, dazzled. Since their reunion, she had gained confidence, and her intellect and modesty made her a force to be reckoned with. He couldn’t ask for a better countess, wife, or political partner. She was everything he’d dreamed of…and more. He wouldn’t let anyone—or anything—threaten her.
The awareness that the blackmailer might have eyes and ears on her at this very moment prompted James to continuously scan the throng. Did the footman who was serving the champagne look overly long at Evie’s necklace? What about the one manning the refreshment table…did he seem to be monitoring her movements? The problem was that everyone began to look suspicious. Distracted, James had difficulty focusing on his own conversations.
“Lord Manderly, I was looking for you.”
Like a Biblical sea, the throng parted for the hostess. Lady Vernon glided toward him in a silver gown, a matching plume bobbing in her hair. Despite her glittering appearance, James’s attention shifted from her to her escort.
