style="font-size:15px;"> “Lucille,” Robert interjected with disapproval. “The French are our friends—and they have suffered greatly—unjustly.”
“And apparently, so has Evelyn.” Lucille finally smirked. “Look at this house! It is threadbare! And, Papa, I am not retracting a single word! We gave her a roof over her head, and the first thing she did was to ensnare the count the moment he stepped in our door.” She glared.
Evelyn fought to keep her temper, no easy task when she was so unbearably tired. She would ignore the dig that she was a fortune hunter. “What has happened to my husband’s family and his countrymen is a tragedy,” Evelyn said tersely.
“I hardly said it was not!” Lucille was annoyed. “We all hate the republicans, Evelyn, surely you know that! But now, you are here, a widow of almost twenty-five, a countess, and where is your furniture?”
Lucille hated her even now, Evelyn thought. And while she knew she did not have to respond, she said, “We fled France—to keep our heads. A great deal was left behind.”
Lucille made a mocking sound as her father took her elbow. “It is time for us to go, Lucille, and you have a long drive home. Lady Faraday,” Robert said decisively to his wife. He nodded at Evelyn and began guiding Enid and Lucille out, Harold following with Annabelle.
Evelyn slumped in relief. But Annabelle looked back at her, offering a tentative and commiserating smile. Evelyn straightened, surprised. Then Annabelle, along with her family, disappeared into the front hall.
Evelyn turned, relieved. But the feeling vanished as she was instantly faced with two young gentlemen.
Her cousin John smiled hesitantly at her. “Hello, Evelyn.”
Evelyn hadn’t seen John since her wedding. He was tall and attractive, taking after his father both physically and in character. And he had been her one somewhat secret ally, during those difficult years of her childhood. He had been her friend, even if he had chosen not to engage his sisters directly.
Evelyn leaped into his arms. “I am so glad to see you! Why haven’t you called? Oh, you have become so handsome!”
He pulled back, blushing. “I am a solicitor now, Evelyn, and my offices are in Falmouth. And…I wasn’t sure I would be welcome—not after all you endured at the hands of my family. I am sorry that Lucille is still so hatefully disposed toward you.”
“But you are my friend,” she cried, meaning it. She had glanced at the dark handsome man standing with him, and recognized him instantly. Shocked, she felt her smile vanish.
He grinned a bit at her, but no mirth entered his dark eyes. “She is jealous,” he said softly.
“Trev?” she asked.
Edward Trevelyan stepped forward. “Lady D’Orsay. I am flattered that you remember me.”
“You haven’t changed that much,” she said slowly, still surprised. Trevelyan had evinced a strong interest in her before Henri had swept into her life. The heir to a large estate with several mines and a great tenant farm, it had almost seemed that he meant to seriously court her—until her aunt had forbidden Evelyn from accepting his calls. She hadn’t seen him since she was fifteen years old. He had been handsome and titled then; he was handsome and commanding now.
“Neither have you. You remain the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”
She knew she blushed. “That is certainly an exaggeration—so you are still the ladies’ man?”
“Hardly. I merely wish to flatter an old and dear friend—truthfully.” He bowed. Then, he said, “My wife died last year. I am a widower, my lady.”
Without thinking, she said, “Evelyn. We can hardly stand on formality, can we? And I am sorry to hear that.”
He smiled at her, but his gaze was filled with speculation.
John stepped in. “And I am affianced. We are to wed in June. I wish for you to meet Matilda, Evelyn. You will like her very much.”
She took his hand impulsively. “I am so happy for you.”
Evelyn realized that she was now standing alone with the two gentlemen—everyone else had left. Her salon mostly empty, she became aware of just how exhausted she was—and that, as happy as she was to see both John and Trev, she desperately needed to lie down and rest.
“You seem tired,” John said. “We will take our leave.”
She walked them to the front door. “I am so glad you called. Give me a few days—I can’t wait to meet your fiancée.”
John hugged her, rather inappropriately. “Of course.”
Trev was more formal. “I know this is a terrible time for you, Evelyn. If I can help, in any way, I would love to do so.”
“I doubt that anyone can help. My heart, Trev, is sorely broken.”
He studied her for a moment, and then both men stepped outside.
Evelyn saw their mounts tied to the railing as she closed the door—and that was the last thing she saw. Instantly, blackness claimed her and she collapsed.
* * *
“YOU ARE SO exhausted that you fainted!”
Evelyn shoved the smelling salts with their sickly odor from her nostrils. She was seated on the cold, hard marble floor, a pillow between her and the front door. Laurent and his wife knelt beside her, both extremely concerned.
And she was still light-headed. “Is everyone gone?”
“Yes, everyone has left—and you swooned the moment the last guest was gone,” Laurent accused. “I should have never allowed the guests to stay as long as they did.”
“Aimee?”
“She is still asleep,” Adelaide said. She stood. “I am going to get you something to eat.”
Evelyn saw from the look on her face that protesting that she was not hungry would not dissuade her. Adelaide walked away, and she looked at Laurent. “This has been the longest day of my life.” God, the tears threatened her again. Damn it. She would not cry!
“It is over,” he soothed.
She gave him her hand and he helped her to stand up. As she did, a terrible migraine began. And with it came the now-familiar surging of panic and fear. “What are we going to do now?” she whispered.
He had become her confidant in these past few years, and she did not have to elaborate. “You can worry about Aimee’s future tomorrow.”
“I cannot think about anything else!”
He sighed. “Madame, you just fainted. We do not need to discuss finances tonight.”
“There are hardly any finances to discuss. But I intend to start going over the estate ledgers and my accounts tomorrow.”
“And how will you read them? They befuddled
