The woman wore a garish mix of colors and things in her hair that defied gravity. She also said exactly what she wanted. Evie aspired to be just like her one day.
“Is that a bearded tit in your hair, Lady Linley?” Lord Hamilton asked minutes later, drawing the woman’s eyes back to his.
“No,” she snapped.
“A coal tit?”
Evie swallowed her giggle. She absolutely would not let that man see her smile over something he’d said. He was a dissolute rake whom she loathed.
The first time she’d stepped into society, Miss Everland told Evie and her sister to keep their distance from Lord Hamilton, as he was a destroyer of reputations who drank and whored his way through London. Of course, Miss Everland had not mentioned the whoring, but it was implied.
“A blue tit,” Lady Linley said. “Now do be quiet, Hamilton.”
Again, to her surprise, he did as he was told.
Long minutes ticked by, with Miss Dornetto showing no sign of drawing breath on stage or the performance coming to an end. Evie was clenching her muscles to ensure she did not touch the dark lord at her side. Hopefully her agony was over soon.
“Not only are you clumsy, but you constantly move.”
“Pardon?” She faced Lord Hamilton, and their eyes clashed like swords on a battlefield.
“Your leg, it’s twitching,” he snapped.
“Better?” Moving so their legs were no longer close, she faced forward once more.
He didn’t answer. Horrid man. It was vastly unfair that he looked as he did and had wealth and status but the personality of a feral jungle cat, while she had to find inventive ways to ensure financial security for her family. Not to mention remain socially acceptable. One slip and they were doomed.
“Now your fingers are tapping.”
She spun back to face him. Why any man should have such lovely eyes was beyond her. They were a dark shade of amber and surrounded by dark brows and lashes. She’d heard Miss Brittle say that Lord Hamilton’s eyes made her swoon, and itwas a shame he was such a savage, as he’d make a wonderful husband.
Evie thought they were hideous, simply because they belonged to him.
“Go away if my presence annoys you,” she snapped, stopping short of insulting him further. He was after all rich, titled, and powerful for all he was a hideous person. She could not afford to insult him in a public setting.
“Unfortunately, I lost a bet,” he muttered, “or I would gladly oblige, as the performance is terrible.”
She wasn’t sure he could be termed handsome, but she’d heard other women describe his face enthusiastically. It comprised of sharp angles and planes, with a long nose that had a slight kink to it. His hair was black, and a little long, which she thought added to his air of insolence and entitlement. He stood half a head above her, which she loathed.
“Don’t be rude,” Evie snapped. “Some people are enjoying it.”
“I’m not sure how. However, if I must endure the performance,” he added, “I’d at least like to do so without you constantly moving.”
Prue always said Evie’s biggest failing was her inability to shut her mouth at the right moments. She loathed bullies and fools, and especially hated when people took her to task, even if she deserved it, which in this instance she most definitely did not.
She counted slowly to five, as ten was beyond her, and told herself no good would come of her taking one of society’s most notorious members to task, even if he deserved it. It didn’t work. She faced him once more.
“I can stop my movements, my lord, whereas you can do very little to change your personality, which I assure you is that of an ill-mannered feral dog.”
“Pardon?” His dark brows now met in the middle in a fierce frown.
“Evie.” Prue hissed the word into her ear.
“Nothing,” she muttered.
“Oh, that was definitely something,” he said. “Don’t back away now, Miss Spencer. Tell me exactly what you think of me. After all, it’s likely nothing I haven’t already heard.”
“Then one wonders why you don’t try harder to be nice,” Evie snapped.
