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Eve let out a long breath, hardly aware that she’d been holding one until that moment. Because the truth was, the longer they discussed it, the more excited she became. To have a chance at showing her abilities to the queen … how wonderful was that? Even if she didn’t win, she would know that Lady Cokesbury considered her worthy of participating.

That Noel considered her worthy of participating.

No, she mustn’t think of him in those terms. He’d made it clear he didn’t think of her in those terms yesterday.

But today, well, anything seemed possible. If she won the competition.

Lady Cokesbury beamed at them all. “Now that we have come to an agreement, why don’t we talk about something else? I should like to hear all about your time in France.”

“I suspect that will take more than one meal to relate,” Noel mur mured, but said nothing more as the three women began to discuss life at Verdun. Instead, he grabbed Jimmy’s hand as the boy reached for the dumpling on his plate, then closed Jimmy’s fingers around the handle of a fork.

Jimmy looked up at Noel with guileless eyes and immediately shifted to eating with the fork.

Eve smiled at Noel. Perhaps a week spent at the Cokesbury town house wouldn’t be so bad after all. Noel might finally get her little brother to start behaving like a gentleman. Or at least to stop picking pockets. That would be wonderful enough as it was.

Meanwhile, Noel made the rest of dinner even more wonderful with his clever remarks and his teasing. She was surprised to learn of his interest in engravings and delighted to hear that he enjoyed Mr. Beasley’s work in particular. He’d been unaware of Mr. Beasley’s past as a détenu, so she and Noel spent several pleasant minutes discussing the man and his family, and the works Noel particularly liked.

By the time dinner was over and the three of them were heading out to the carriage, Eve felt rather contented. Despite her fears, her time in France hadn’t wiped out her memory of all of Lady Cokesbury’s lessons to her and Natalie about deportment, fashion, manners, et cetera. Tonight, Eve had stepped right into what she’d learned then, like a woman pulling on a well-used coat.

Unfortunately, as they reached the carriage, she realized she’d been having such a fine time that she’d forgotten to visit the necessary before coming outside. After all the tea she’d drunk, she really needed to do so. She didn’t think she could make it back to Hatton Garden.

Thrusting her head into the carriage, she told her stepmother that she’d forgotten something, then asked the footman if they could possibly hold the carriage while she went to the necessary. After assuring him that she knew where it was, she hurried into the house, glad that Noel had chosen not to accompany them home tonight, but instead to send a footman with them. How mortifying it would have been having to explain to him her sudden urgent need!

She’d hurried to the necessary and was trying to hurry back past the drawing room to the stairs when she heard her name mentioned. She froze. Lady Cokesbury and Noel were in the drawing room talking about her.

“It was so good to see Eve,” the viscountess was saying. “Thank you for bringing her here, son. Though I daresay it wasn’t just for me that you did so.”

Noel didn’t answer right away. “I don’t know what you mean,” he said stiffly.

Eve swallowed hard. She should go. She shouldn’t listen. But she couldn’t seem to help herself.

“Don’t you?” His mother paused. “I see how you look at Eve.”

“I should hope I look at her the way I’d look at any old friend of Natalie’s.”

Eve crept past the door, not sure she wanted to hear yet again that he saw her as an “old friend,” even if the last time he’d said that was just after he’d kissed her most passionately.

“Hmm,” his mother said, clearly skeptical. “Well, I’m glad she has agreed to enter the competition. Do you happen to know if Lady Margaret also means to enter this year?”

Eve froze. Who the devil was Lady Margaret?

“How could I?” he snapped. “It’s not the sort of thing Margaret and I talk about. But if you want me to ask her, I will, next time I see her.”

Eve’s heart began to pound so loudly, she feared they might hear it. Yet she didn’t move so much as a step. He’d referred to the woman by her Christian name. And although he’d done the same to Eve—and asked her to do the same to him—she still needed to know what this Margaret had done to deserve such a courtesy.

“Have you offered for Lady Margaret yet?” his mother persisted.

Eve’s stomach sank, and not even his curt “No” could quell her nausea. Did he kiss “Margaret” passionately, too? Or was “Margaret” too fine and upstanding a lady to kiss?

“Don’t you think you should?” his mother said. “You’re not getting any younger, and you’ve certainly been courting her long enough.”

“Good God, Mother, stay out of it,” he said irritably. Then she heard the unmistakable sound of chair legs scraping the floor. “I’m going to my study. I need to sign some documents for the estate manager before I retire.”

Eve practically flew down the carpeted hall to the thankfully carpeted stairs.

Still, when his mother laughed, Eve froze again near the top of the stairs.

“I daresay you’ll need a good night’s sleep if you’re going to take young James in hand tomorrow,” Lady Cokesbury remarked.