found that it was sometimes necessary to give the patient poison to counteract a more serious malady. Attending her wedding would be so to him. Swallowing this bitter pill would be the first step towards a cure for his affliction.
Evie was beautiful. Sam had known that already, of course. He had never seen her decked in finery. He had thought her lovely in a simple day frock, but tonight she was magnificent. The silk of her ball gown was as blue as her eyes, and as smooth as her hair. A necklace of gold and diamonds lay, like a collar of stars, about her lovely white throat.
Perhaps Thorne had been right all along. Even without the complication of blood, the creature that stood before him could not have been his. The necklace alone was worth a year’s salary. He could never have afforded to put it there. And to her, it was nothing more than her mother’s necklace that she had never been old enough to wear. With St Aldric, she would have this and better. A different jewel for every month of the year and a room full of ball gowns to wear them with.
With the duke at her side, the picture was complete. He was tall, handsome and nearly as golden as she. He smiled at her as though it was an honour for him to have won her. They were like two pieces of statuary, designed to complement each other. As a duchess, she would glitter, as she did tonight, from without and within. She was already so bright that it hurt to look upon her.
Yet he could not seem to stop. Once he had fulfilled his promise to her, he would be gone for good. If memories were all he had for sustenance, he would burn each detail into his brain so that he might never forget. As he waited to be presented to the happy couple, he did his best to mask the hunger he felt for her and arrange his face in an expression of brotherly pride.
‘Sam.’ She reached out and took his hands in hers.
‘Evelyn.’ She leaned in, presenting her cheek to be kissed. He could not very well avoid it without looking silly. He leaned forwards as well, kissing the air a scant inch from her skin. Even then, his lips tingled as if a spark sizzled between them, bridging the gap.
‘It is so good to see you here. I feared you would not come.’ She whispered it in his ear as he leaned close to her. When he leaned back, she searched his face with worried eyes. ‘It has been almost a week.’
Since he had very nearly ravished her in his rooms. He still woke each night from a dream where the ending to that interlude had been different and he had felt her gasping in passion beneath him. ‘I promised I would be here, to celebrate your happiness.’
‘That is most kind of you,’ St Aldric said. He was still at her side, quietly possessive.
‘My felicitations to you as well, your Grace.’ He bowed, feeling stiff and awkward.
‘Thank you, Doctor.’ St Aldric was better at managing a gracious response.
Evie was staring at the pair of them, as though hoping that there could be anything more than cordial dislike between them.
‘And now, if you will excuse me?’ Sam raised a genuine smile at the thought of escaping. ‘I must not keep you from the other guests.’
There. He was through with the first challenge. Now he must manage a few hours of courtesy and then he could be on his way again. But when Evie was involved, nothing was ever that easy. Was it just because she was the hostess that she seemed to be everywhere he turned? Or was she actually following him through the gathering, showing up where he least expected her, to flash a smile or blow a kiss?
Each time, he turned away, pretending that he did not notice, or had not seen, or was too busy in conversation with another to speak to her. At last she caught him standing alone by the dance floor, with no excuse to avoid her.
‘Dance with me.’ She was holding out a hand to him, sure he would come to her, as he always had, and swing her easily in his arms.
‘I do not think that is wise,’ he replied. Just the thought of touching her made his palms begin to sweat.
‘Dancing, not wise?’ She laughed. ‘Is that your professional opinion? I assumed that such harmless exercise would be recommended by a physician.’
‘You know that is not what I mean,’ he said in a harsh whisper, glancing around to be sure that no one else could hear.
She gave him a coquettish flutter of her fan. ‘I really have no idea. If you mean something specific by the refusal, you had best tell me directly.’
‘If you truly mean to marry St Aldric, I think it is unwise for the two of us to dance,’ he said through gritted teeth.
‘My commitment to him has not stopped me from standing up with every other man in this room. Save yourself, of course. You have been avoiding me.’
‘I have not,’ he said, wishing that it was not such an obvious lie.
‘I am sure that St Aldric has no objection to it.’
‘What he wishes does not concern me.’ And now he sounded like a jealous fool.
‘If not him, then whom? What reason could you possibly have that would prevent you? If people notice you avoiding me, they will wonder. And they will talk.’
Now she had trapped him. She was probably right. Someone would remark at how strangely he behaved around her. Above all else, there must be no talk.
She continued to pressure him, sure that he could not refuse. ‘I am open for the next waltz. Stand up with me and stop being silly about it.’ She gave him a sly smile. ‘It will be over before you realise and, I swear, no harm shall come to you.’
‘No! Not a waltz.’ He’d said it too loudly and a matron a few feet away gave him a sharp, disapproving look. But the idea was simply too much to bear. ‘I will stand up with you, if you insist. But let it be some other dance.’
‘All right,’ she said, giving him a disgusted sigh. ‘La Belle Assembly. It is starting now. And we will stand up with St Aldric and another, so you need have no fear of upsetting him.’
Sam’s eyes narrowed. ‘It is not from fear of him that I refuse you.’
‘Fear of me, then?’ She gave a toss of her head. ‘That does little to improve my opinion of you.’
The letter had been a lie. She did not need moral support to make this decision. She merely wished another opportunity to torment him. He seized her hand with no real gentleness, as he had done when they were children, and dragged her towards the centre of the room. ‘Come on, then, brat. The sooner it is begun, the sooner it will be done. Then you must leave me in peace for the rest of the night.’
He had been right. This had been a mistake.
She had thought that a public temptation might force a commitment out of him. At the very least, it would give her one last chance to be with him. But this was not the memory she wished for. It was too painful.
They shared the set with St Aldric and his partner, a lady of great beauty and little wit, but she was a skilled dancer and little more was required of her now. They traded bows and curtsies, and the dance began.
Sam
