Page 59 of Just a Little Daring

“What about the devastatingly beautiful comte?” Vivien asked, curious now.

“Don’t be silly,” Evie said at once. “He’s my friend.”

“He’d be a difficult husband, I suppose,” Vivien mused, observing Evie’s reaction to the words. “Always being chased by beautiful women, and he’s got a wicked reputation, too. The things they whisper about him are scandalous. They say he’s astonishing in bed.”

“Viv!” Evie blushed scarlet. “Don’t speak of him so! And who are they? Where did you hear such a thing, anyway?”

Viv shrugged. “In the retiring rooms. Women gossip. Lots of women, considering he’s had a string of lovers that he discards like his waistcoats.”

Evie’s expression had closed up, giving nothing away, but her voice was curt. “Louis does not treat women so shabbily. He is faithful whilst they are together. They just do not hold his attention long. He is easily bored, but he makes no promises and is careful not to cause hurt. That is why he never lingers long with a mistress, so they cannot grow too fond of him.”

Vivien’s eyebrows went up, astonished that Evie knew something so intimate about him. “You really do know him well.”

Evie nodded. “I do.”

Vivien hesitated, wondering whether she ought to push a little further, to make her friend consider another point of view. “He’s been your faithful friend this age, Evie, but he’s very attentive. Does that not seem odd to you?”

Evie sat up, annoyance flashing in her eyes. “No. Why should it? He does not trust people, or make friends easily, but he knows I do not flatter or tell him lies because I do not lust after him like the other women do. He knows he can trust me, and we like each other. Why is that so hard to understand?”

Vivien considered this and realised she could see the truth of it. She knew that when most men looked at her, they only saw something they desired, not a complete person. She had seen the women determined to be the Comtesse de Villen—or his next mistress—that hunted Louis at every ton event, hanging on his every word, batting their eyelashes, wanting him for his beauty and his wealth and his title, not for who he was. How precious would someone like Evie become in a world where he trusted no one to give him anything but meaningless flattery?

“Forgive me,” Vivien said, meaning it. “I did not understand. But is there no one you fancy? Not even Mr Hadley-Smythe?” she teased, knowing he was among Evie’s favourites, and her most faithful suitor.

“That’s all right. I know our friendship is unusual. And yes, I do like Mr Hadley-Smythe,” Evie admitted. “He’s agreeable company and a gentle fellow. Of all of them, he is the only one I believe I could consider. I think he would be a kind husband.”

Vivien pulled a face at her words.

“What?” Evie protested.

Vivien laughed, shaking her head. “Well, that’s a start, I suppose, but… but don’t you feel anything more than that? Don’t you feel an odd fluttering in your belly when he’s close? Don’t you long to be near to him, to be in his arms? To be alone with him and for the rest of the world to be far away?”

Evie fell quiet, a puzzled frown drawing her brows together as a troubled expression settled over her. She shook her head suddenly, as if shaking away a bothersome wasp. “Well, Papa says I have ages yet, so I don’t need to worry about it for the moment, do I? I probably just need to spend more time with him to get to know him better. We only ever talk at parties and share a dance or two. It’s not much to go on.”

“Of course, silly goose. You’ve plenty of time, for you’re only eighteen, whereas I am almost an ape leader at the grand old age of four and twenty.”

Evie snorted, amused. “Methuselah, that’s you. So, when shall you be married?”

“As soon as may be,” Vivien replied at once, grinning at her. “Because I do long to be alone with August, and for the rest of the world to be far away.”

26th April 1841, Rother House, Burwash, Etchingham, East Sussex.

“Stop looking so anxious. Papa said this was a good idea, and I agree. It’s not like you haven’t told them all what to expect,” Vivien said, taking August’s arm.

August swallowed down the knot lodged in his throat with difficulty and could not bring himself to answer. Their families were meeting today for the first time, ahead of their impending nuptials next week. He felt sick. Viscount Cavendish and his lady were here, along with Viv’s twin, Ash, and their grandmother. Though August had been forthright in explaining his family’s rather unconventional situation, he could not help but wonder if he ought to have been plainer still. Perhaps he simply should have told them his kin were barking mad and they may as well consider their daughter to be marrying into a family of bedlamites, but he hadn’t wanted to frighten them off. Now, as he stared up at his ancestral home, he regretted not having prepared them more thoroughly. There was a naked man at one of the upper windows, in what had once been August’s bedroom, and he appeared to be conducting an orchestra. August tore his eyes away, cleared his throat, and prayed no one else had noticed.

“That fellow is naked!” Nani Maa exclaimed, staring up at the window with obvious interest. “Where are my spectacles? Mary, get them for me.”

So much for no one noticing. August sighed.

“Dreadful creature,” Ash muttered affectionately. “You’re supposed to be past the age of wanting to look at naked men,” he informed his grandmother under his breath.

The old woman looked back at him, obviously offended. “Don’t be ludicrous,” she retorted, snatching her spectacles from her maid and putting them on.

“Shall we go in?” August said, trying to ignore the sensation of impending doom pressing down on him.

“August, darling!”

Out hurried his mother to greet her guests, with his sisters close behind. Mama was resplendent in purple silk and beaming a welcome. He had to admit she looked well, and happy too. The reason for that happiness leaned nonchalantly against the front door jamb, grinning.