“Agreed,” said one lady, while the other only nodded.
Sheep, apparently.
When Evelyn turned her head his way, their gazes caught and held in understanding.
Their fates may no longer be entirely in their own hands, but in those of Lady Norwood, her friends, and whoever was behind this entire scheme.
As Lady Norwood walked away, her laughter ringing out through the night, Asher murmured, “Either she wishes to see us ruined, or she wishes to see us wed.”
Evelyn gasped as though the thought had not occurred to her, but unfortunately, Asher was more than well acquainted with just what it meant to be caught in such a compromising position, for he had been doing his utmost to avoid it until now.
“I cannot decide which would be worse,” she said.
Asher started, insulted by the insinuation, although he couldn’t help but mutter, “I fear we are about to find out.”
6
The moment Evelyn woke up the next day, she knew something was wrong.
She just couldn’t immediately remember what it was.
As she turned in her bed, staring up at the ceiling, all came rushing back. The feeling of Asher’s fingers on her face, plucking the piece of thread from her hair. The thought that he just might lean down and kiss her. The expression he made when he had obviously decided against it. Her own internal dismay.
Then Lady Norwood’s discovery.
Her stomach twisted again as her maid knocked on the door, entering with some hesitation.
“My lady?” she said, biting her lip. “The morning papers have arrived.”
Before Evelyn had a chance to ask her why that would be a problem, the maid nearly threw them on the bed and ran away.
Evelyn leapt across the bed for the papers, rifling through them so quickly that she nearly ripped the page.
And there, already in print:
A certain duke and a certain learned lady were found in intimate proximity…
She groaned, flopping back in her bed, the paper folding over her face.
So much for the hope that she and the duke had held onto last night as they had returned to Norwood House, one at a time. Hope that Lady Norwood wouldn’t say anything. Hope that life might return to what it had been.
She wondered if her father had read this yet, whether he would say anything.
She didn’t have to wonder long, for moments later, she heard “Evelyn!” shouted from the ground floor, and she groaned again, nearly falling off the bed in her dismay.
By the time she dressed and found him in his study, her father was furiously pacing back and forth.
“Evelyn,” he said, lifting the papers in his hand and shaking them back and forth. “Explain.”
She sighed. “The duke and I were having a discussion, and Lady Norwood just happened to find us during our conversation,” she said. “That is all. Nothing compromising occurred.”
“But you were alone.”
“In the garden,” she defended herself. “There were many people about.”
The way he was looking at her caused shame to flood her, as she saw her father’s gaze land on his desk, to where he had opened a manual for one of his academic societies. She knew his academic reputation was on the line, that it meant more to him than any political scandal could.
For no one could take his title away, save the king and prince regent, she supposed. But his acceptance into his learned societies? That was much more volatile.
