Left on her own, pride would make her refuse. That would spare him, but make the night poorer for her. “I will decide for you,” he said. “Accept the gown and go to the ball in style, Eva.”
CHAPTER20
The week passed in a whirlwind. Eva barely had time to sketch, what with excursions into the City and visits to the dressmaker.
Madame Tissot, the fashionable modiste recommended by Mr. Geraldson, normally expected several weeks to complete a ball gown. For a duke, however, she made exceptions. Three of her seamstresses were put on the gown as soon as Eva chose the style and fabric. At the daily fittings she watched the ensemble come together.
Sarah and Rebecca insisted on accompanying her each time. Their excitement exceeded hers. She realized that they all would be attending that ball, she in person, but they in their imaginations.
She did not see Gareth very much. He escorted them to the theater one night, and his brother Lord Ywain joined them. He arranged for them to visit the magnificent library of a marquess he knew, and the art collection of an earl. One evening they all went to Vauxhall Gardens and sat in a little box eating ham before strolling the grounds and watching the entertainment and fireworks. Some days, though, they only met at dinner.
Finally, the day before the ball, she found some time for herself. After returning from Madame Tissot’s and the final inspection of the gown, she begged off further shopping withSarah and Rebecca and returned to the house. Up in her chamber she drew the drapes back as far as possible so the cool northern light would saturate the chamber.
She collected some objects into a still life that she posed on a table near one of the windows so the light hit the composition from the left. Settling down, she began to draw.
Soon her observations absorbed her, and the smooth movements of her crayon on the paper entranced her.
“Has it come?”
She looked up. Gareth stood near her shoulder.
“The gown? Is it here? I had hoped to see it.”
“It will be delivered tomorrow morning.”
“I will have to wait until tomorrow night now.” He stepped closer and angled his head to see her drawing.
“It is just that still life there. Not complicated, but form is form, and there is no such thing as enough practice.”
“I expect that is true.”
He hovered at her shoulder, watching her. She felt him there right behind her chair. His warmth, his energy—while he escorted her around town, there were others with them, diluting his effect somewhat, but at least distracting her from it. Now, in the silence she felt the air grow heavy with unspoken words and unacknowledged desire. She wondered if he felt it as well.
Perhaps it was different for him here in London where he was in his element. He had many friends here. They greeted him in the park and about town. Men stopped to chat and women smiled from a distance. His charm opened many doors, even for her. She doubted every visitor to London toured an earl’s fine art collection, or paged through a marquess’s priceless illuminated manuscripts.
She strove to concentrate on her drawing, but his proximity tormented her. “I do not think I thanked you for the gown.”
“It is not from me.”
“I only accepted it because of you. It was very exciting, having a gown made and being told not to count the cost. It was kind of you to do all of this for me.”
“I will enjoy seeing you in it, Eva, and only regret the gift could not be mine.”
Because that would imply things, even though they both knew there was nothing to imply now. What a muddle society’s rules made of things.
She set down her crayon and closed her sketchbook. She could not bear sitting here like this, with him so close.
He indeed stepped away from her.
“There is still time for a turn in the park, I think.” He went to her chamber door. “Would you like to join me?”
“Don’t.” The words emerged without thought. “Please, don’t leave.”
He gazed down on his hand, gripping the door’s latch. “You have me at a disadvantage, Eva.”
“I know. But I do not want you to leave. Then I will be here alone, thinking, remembering...” She stood and put down her book and crayon on her chair.
“What do you want from me?” He sounded exasperated.
