She had been flattered that so many bachelors wished to dance with her and hadn’t rested during even one set, but that was only because she was a new miss to be met. Once the newness wore off, she’d no longer be of interest to anyone and would be viewed as just another miss in want of a husband, just like the dozens of other misses in attendance.
At least Captain Pickmore was attentive, fetching her punch when she became parched and even partnering her. Lady Kilsyth was kind as well, making many of the introductions. However, Kilsyth spent a good deal of the evening frowning, as if she’d disappointed him somehow. If anything, Eve had never been so careful in the manner of how she conducted herself, her decorum and speech before in her life. She had made no mistakes, so why did he frown as if she’d failed him somehow?
Kilsyth had won the wager and now he could be done with her, just as she wished to be done with him.
That wasn’t true. She’d miss him when she finally decided to leave, but to remain in his home any longer than necessary would only bring her further heartbreak.
Oh, if only he were disagreeable for the most part it would be so easy to walk away, but he wasn’t. Deep down he was a caring gentleman, and kind. It was his exterior that caused others to wonder if he was unpleasant.
However, the one matter she was thankful for was that gossip was more focused on the missing mummy and artifacts and not her and Lord Kilsyth. Everyone seemed to have an opinion of the type of person the thief or thieves had been and where the items had been taken. It was a relief in a sense that, unlike Ascot, ladies were not talking about her behind their fans. If they were, she’d not noted them.
“How was your evening, Lord Kilsyth,” Jeffries, the butler greeted upon their entrance.
“A smashing success,” Kilsyth answered as he handed off his hat and cane.
“I am so please to here that, sir,” Mrs. Peade said.
“We knew that you could do it, sir,” the butler added.
“Yes, Kilsyth, a success.” Pickmore reached inside of his coat and pulled out a pouch. “The wager. What was it again.”
“Five pounds,” Kilsyth dismissed as he walked to the sideboard and poured a brandy for himself and another, which Eve assumed was for Pickmore.
“You should have heard them, Mrs. Peade,” Kilsyth began. “Comments on her name, which was clearly Irish, but there was nothing in her manner and her tone to indicate as such.”
Pickmore accepted the glass of brandy with a laugh. “Others thought her a lady, even a princess in disguise.”
Eve took a step back and observed as they spoke about her as if she weren’t even in the room. As if she was a pony who’d learned a new trick and been paraded before thetonfor their entertainment.
“Then their shock to learn she was my ward,” Kilsyth added with a laugh.
“And that he’d won her in a game of chance,” Pickmore joined him in his humor, “I thought a few of the matrons might need their smelling salts.”
Humiliation engulfed her. Eve hadn’t realized that the sordid details of how she’d come to be in the care of Kilsyth would be bandied about, and it was certain to make her a topic of the gossips. It was the one thing she had hoped to avoid.
“Your five pounds, Kilsyth.” Pickmore held out the funds. “You did it.”
“We did it,” Kilsyth corrected. “You and I took an Irish-born miss transplanted to Covent Garden and turned her into someone others would believe to be a lady.”
Pickmore waved his hands. “I did nothing. It was all you.”
“Without your support and assistance, it might not have been possible,” Kilsyth argued and Eve seethed.
It was not them, but her. She was the one who had worked for hours. Yes, Kilsyth had guided her, but she had worked harder than the two of them and she was quite fed up.
Already he’d dismissed her. Eve anticipated that after this evening he would, but she hadn’t anticipated it to be immediate. And here she thought to remain in his household until she was ready to leave, fearing she might not wish to. That was no longer the case. As soon as possible she’d be gone. Clearly he didn’t need her or even wish Eve to be around. She had served her purpose and Kilsyth would now turn his attention to his nextproject, whatever that may be. In fact, when she did leave, it was unlikely Kilsyth would even realize she was gone. Or, he wouldn’t notice until he couldn’t locate the post or his slippers.
“If you don’t need anything further, Lord Kilsyth, I should turn in,” Mrs. Peade announced.
“Yes of course.” Then he grinned. “Take a holiday tomorrow, Mrs. Peade. The maids can see to anything that is necessary.” Then he turned to the butler. “You too, Jeffries, footmen can see to the door.”
“No doubt there will be gentlemen callers tomorrow, since Miss Doyle was such a success,” he answered.
At that Kilsyth frowned. “I suppose. But we’ll worry about that in the afternoon as nobody would dare call in the morning.”
“Very good, sir,” Jeffries nodded and quit the room.
“Well, I’m off to bed. I daresay, I might sleep a week after this,” Pickmore announced as he set his empty glass of brandy aside and walked to the entrance.
