Evelyn shook her head, and George quickly explained. Mama’s arm squeezed tight around her, and Evelyn struggled to stem her tears, but once freed, they would not return to their cage. At least she was not gasping and sobbing like a ninny, and with her mother and brother standing close, few could even see her while even fewer paid her any mind.
In a trice, Mama and George had her through the crowd and out the door. Her brother sent word for the horses to be readied and to gather the rest of the family. All the while, Mama maintained a calm expression, though her arm never released its hold on her daughter. It gave Evelyn enough strength to keep from losing her composure completely, but she couldn’t help but wish she was tucked away in her bedchamber to lick her wounds alone. It was bad enough that so many knew of her folly; she did not need to add to her ridiculousness by falling to pieces in front of an audience—even if it was her family.
Soon the Finches were gathered and the horses readied, and George stood on the pavement with a furrowed look that spoke of something more than mere concern for his sister. Evelyn suspected she knew the cause.
Drawing close, she placed a kiss on his cheek and whispered, “Stay, George. I do not want my foolishness to spoil your evening.”
“But—”
“I would be far happier knowing you are here wooing your Miss Wakefield. Treat her well.”
George nodded, and Evelyn gave him a watery smile as Mama and Papa helped her into the carriage. The others settled around her, and though a few questions were raised, prodding her to speak, Evelyn shook her head and settled into the squabs.
“You are a wonderful woman, Evelyn, and you deserve a man who is desperate to be at your side…”That played again and again in her thoughts, her mind bouncing between George’s look of concern and Mr. Townsend’s snub, and though Evelyn couldn’t claim a healthy amount of pride, she wasn’t devoid of the sentiment.
“…you deserve a man who is desperate to be at your side. Someone who sees the whole of you and loves you without caveat.” Those words warmed her through once more, but now Evelyn considered them in a new manner.
Did she love Mr. Townsend without caveat? There was no disputing the fact she loved parts of him, but there was a hardness to his humor and a flippancy to his personality that did not sit well with her.
Did she truly want Mr. Townsend? Though part of her gave that a resounding affirmative, a negative whispered from deep within the shadowy fears she’d hidden from view. Flaws were inevitable, it was true, and until now, she had simply shunted them to the side and focused on Mr. Townsend’s many good qualities. But when giving them due consideration, Evelyn couldn’t help but feel that she had chosen to blind herself to the many aspects of his character that were unattractive to her.
A more important question arose, taking hold of her as she considered it—did she want a man who would treat her in such a fashion? Seeing it again in her mind, she replayed the moment her gaze had caught Mr. Townsend’s this evening. A brief moment of recognition that was usually followed by a smile or a raise of the hand. But the turn of his lips when he had considered her was hardly warm or inviting, and then, without hesitation, he’d dismissed her entirely, turning his attention to Miss Fernsby, of all people.
Evelyn’s lungs expanded for the first time since catching sight of Mr. Townsend that evening. The air came in and out, filling her to the brim as she straightened in her seat, studying the passing landscape.
No woman wanted to be snubbed in such a manner, but her jaw set as she considered the situation as a whole. Her heart creaked in her chest, but it was still beating, and though it fluttered at the thought of catching Mr. Townsend’s eye, she forced herself to accept the idea of him had entranced her more than the gentleman himself.
More than that, she deserved better than to throw her heart after a man who didn’t treat her with the care and dignity she deserved.
Mama sat next to her, giving a silent show of support, and Evelyn reached for her hand, taking it firmly. Tears still lingered, but that resolution settled into her heart, calming her frayed nerves. Damaged but not broken. Evelyn would not allow Mr. Townsend, of all men, to crush her heart.
Chapter 31
If not for the precariousness of his situation, George would never have tossed his sister in the carriage and gone about his evening as though nothing were amiss. As it was, he struggled to keep his thoughts on the conversations around him, especially while Marian stood at Mr. Highmore’s side, giving that fellow the little smiles George had thought belonged solely to himself.
But his wounded pride buoyed when the lady in question turned her attention to him, sending him a silent question in her gaze.
George couldn’t explain what had happened with Evelyn after Marian’s departure. Not in mixed company at any rate. But it warmed him through to see the concern in those glances. Giving her a faint smile in return, he hoped she understood his meaning, though it would be quite impressive to convey everything he felt at present in one little gesture.
Marian turned back to Mr. Highmore, laughing at something he’d said that was unworthy of being called witty. Having been raised by a woman who adored puns and jests of all sorts, George was well familiar with jokes that deserved more groans than laughs, but Mama’s delight in sharing them brought a note of humor to each as opposed to Mr. Highmore's bland delivery. Yet Marian laughed all the same.
His heart prodded him to say something that might draw her attention away from the bore at her side, but George tamped down the instinct. His chest burned, yet he held onto his smile. Resolutions were of no use if they were not tested, and though he had hoped for a bit more time to acclimate to the role of friend and support, he refused to cast aside his good sense and throttle Mr. Highmore. Or shake Marian.
She tittered and smiled, sending as many coy looks in the fellow’s direction as she could. Rationally, George recognized it was no more overt than any other lady’s flirtations, but it felt as though she were throwing herself into Mr. Highmore’s arms, and he fought against his frown. Mr. Highmore was not some grand specimen of perfection that deserved such determined flirting. If anything, Mr. Highmore ought to be the one swooning over Marian.
“Miss Wakefield, I must commend you on the refreshments.” Mrs. Meecham gave her a broad smile and motioned towards the drink in her hand. “I understand from Mrs. Norwich that you are solely responsible for them, and I must say I adore your drink selection. It is wonderful and simply delicious. I cannot say I have tried lavender lemonade before, and it is a delight.”
Mr. Meecham nodded as he slid his wife’s free hand through his arm. “Though I will say there is nothing quite like a good slice of spice cake and cider.”
Marian gave a demure smile, her eyes sparkling with warmth as she hesitantly accepted the compliments, but George couldn’t let it stand there.
“And she managed the whole thing on a minuscule budget,” he added. “That which wasn’t donated, she purchased from local families like the Buckets and the Leggatts.”
“That is wonderful,” said Mrs. Meecham. “I shall have to follow your lead the next time I throw a soiree. It is such a blessing to help the less fortunate in whatever way we can.” Then, leaning forward, Mrs. Meecham said in a conspiratorial tone, “And my maid thanks you profusely for providing something that isn’t so quick to stain. I fear I cannot go an evening without a spot of punch on my dress.”
Marian returned that with a broad smile. “Precisely! For my sake, if nothing else, I wanted drinks that wouldn’t ruin my gloves or gown.”
“Bless you,” replied Mrs. Meecham. “And I know I am not the only one who is grateful.”
