She wrenched her arm free and asked if he had lost his mind in a flurry of French.
He moved fast and tugged the beard down her chin. She tried to stop him, but Anthony was stronger. The wires gave and he faced a very angry Miss Evangeline Spencer.
“How dare you!” She attempted to rally. “What I do is my business.”
He wanted to admire her courage, but he was too angry.
“You,” he said slowly, tamping down his rage, “are an idiot to take such a risk.”
He waited for her to speak, watching the emotion chasing across her pretty face. Instead, she surprised him by fleeing.
Chapter Thirteen
Run, Evie!
This was the only thought she had. Flee and get to her house where she could think about her next move before Lord Hamilton told everyone she was dressing as a Frenchman to gamble.
She would return to the country and stay there for the remainder of the season, while Prue and her father stayed in London and hoped to achieve a match.
But they could not do that if Lord Hamilton exposed her for the fraud she was.
Nausea roiled in her belly as she ran, trying to find a place to hide. Eyes going left and right, she saw no convenient narrow opening or dark space.
Everything she’d done. Everything she’d fought to achieve for her family would all come to nothing because he would expose her, and everyone would believe him.
“Stop!”
The bellow from behind spurred her on, as did the thud of his large feet. It was certainly a great deal easier to run in trousers and not hampered by skirts. Evie heard him gaining on her. Finally, she saw an opening, and she ducked down it.
He was larger and faster, but she was nimble. It was dark down here, which was a good thing. Evie knew she could not outrun him. She had to hide.
Removing the spectacles, she searched for somewhere to wait him out, and then she would go home and rouse Prue. Together they would decide the next steps to take.
Dear lord, she’d have to tell her sister what she’d been up to. The thought was almost as terrifying as facing Lord Hamilton. Prue could be fierce when riled.
Moving quietly along the buildings, she found what she was looking for. Slipping through the opening, she took the stairs down below the ground. Evie then huddled behind a wood box. She wasn’t game to climb in because of the bugs that would be inside, but she could hide here.
She curled into a ball and lowered her head between her knees, then listened. There were no footsteps which was a good thing. Perhaps he would give up after a quick search?Please give up.
London was a noisy city, but right then it felt like everyone had taken a vow of silence. She heard no roll of carriage wheels or clop of hooves. No dog howled or cats yowled. There was just Evie, alone with her loud breathing. She tried to calm down. Tried to inhale and exhale slowly.
“I know you’re here,” she heard him say. “I’m not leaving, Miss Spencer. You may as well come out.”
Why was he bothering with her? The man was a womanizing gambler who drank too much and cared nothing about anyone or anything… except maybe his aunts and two friends. He was a cold-hearted scoundrel, so why did he care what she did?
She could hide here all night, or she could show herself. But what then? What would he do to her? Plunge her family into ruin? And yet couldn’t he do that anyway? Would he blackmail her into doing something she had no wish to do?
“I’m waiting, Miss Spencer. You may as well just come out. After all, I know your secret.”
She didn’t want to come out. She wanted to stay curled behind that dirty wood box forever.
Why had everything become complicated? First Lord Cavendish’s attentions and now this. Lifting her head, she saw no sign of him but knew he was close.
I must get out of here and get back to the townhouse.
“I’m sure my current situation is far more comfortable than yours, Miss Spencer.”
She heard the scrape of something and realized he had a flask with him and was likely drinking from it.
