Page 12 of Just a Little Daring

“To get some air. It is too hot in here.” He looked at her then, his expression clearing. “If you wish to?”

“Oh, yes, please. It’s far too stuffy. I should like some air, though do you think we ought? We don’t have a chaperone.”

Evie glanced around, a little unnerved, wondering if they were being observed.

“Don’t trust me, ma chérie?” he asked, quirking one dark eyebrow at her.

She pulled a face. “Silly. Only people will talk.”

“Half the world is on the terrace, I regret to inform you,” he said dryly. “We shall be far from unchaperoned.”

“Oh, look. It’s snowing!” Evie exclaimed as they moved through the open doors.

Though ‘half the world’ was rather an exaggeration, there were certainly enough couples here for propriety. Evie laughed and tipped her head back, turning in a circle as tiny flakes of snow left their chill touches upon her overheated skin. She straightened to see Louis gazing at her, a look in his eyes she could not read.

“You have snowflakes in your hair,” he whispered, and then reached up to brush them away. “There,” he added, before stroking her cheek with the back of his fingers. His touch was warm and gentle against her rapidly cooling skin, far too intimate, and brought the colour rushing back to her face.

“Thank you,” she said uncertainly as he took a step back.

Evie looked away from him, her gaze falling to the large sapphire pin she’d given him for Christmas, nestled in the folds of his immaculate cravat.

“Are you too cold?” he asked, his gaze moving over her bare arms and shoulders.

Evie shook her head. “No. Not in the least. It’s a relief to be out of the heat. Actually, I’m also glad to have the chance to speak to you privately.”

“You are?” he said, his voice soft, his gaze never leaving hers. He had remarkably thick eyelashes. How had she never noticed that before?

“Yes. I wanted to thank you.”

“Oh.” Those thick lashes swept down now, shielding that vibrant blue from her gaze and whatever it was he was thinking.

Evie thought he sounded a little impatient, and sensed he did not wish her to thank him.

“For my Christmas presents, I mean. Madame Blanchet is beside herself with curiosity to know who designed them for me. So am I to tell the truth? Was… Was it you, Louis? It seems impossible that you could have done such a thing, but I cannot think who—”

“Do they please you?” he asked, evading the question.

“You know they do. They’re exquisite. I’ve worn nothing so lovely in my life and so many people have asked me about them, who designed them. It makes me furious to give that wretched woman the credit, but it was the only way I could persuade her to make them up for me and hold her tongue. Otherwise Mama and everyone would start asking awkward questions.”

“You did right,” he said, nodding. “Better she have the credit and no one the wiser. I am glad they please you. The world is finally taking notice of you as it ought to do, for you are lovely.”

Evie smiled, touched by the comment. “That’s kind of you to say so.”

He gave a huff of laughter that did not sound the least bit amused and shook his head.

“Louis,” she tried again, wanting him to answer her.

“Monsieur Le Comte,” he said wearily. “Come along, ma petite. I had best take you back inside before you catch a chill.”

Frustrated but aware he would not give her an answer tonight, Evie followed him back inside.

Chapter 5

Dearest Viv,

Yes, I shall come to town. Mama insists, and even Papa has begrudgingly admitted my chances of making a match will diminish if I don’t hurry up and get on with finding a husband. You know how he hates the idea of me leaving home, so I must be in danger of becoming an old maid! I think on balance; I prefer being a wilting aspidistra, so I shan’t scold you for the comparison. In any case, I shall keep you informed of when we will arrive. Nothing has been settled yet.

I will scold you for teasing me about Ash, though, you horrid girl. How unkind you are to me. I know he is your brother, but even you must be aware of how handsome and funny he is. Sadly, I adore him still. Sorry, love. No matter how I tell myself it is merely a childish infatuation that has endured too long, I cannot make my heart heed me. I am not a fool, though. I know he does not return my affections, and as much as I would love to be your sister, I promise I do not harbour any illusions of it coming to pass. Do you think there is another man out there, someone kind and sweet, who will take my mind off him and engage my foolish heart?