“There are rumors she has been the mistress of Lord Percival. Her reputation and connections are dubious, and to bring her to the—”
“The hypocrisy of the ton sickens me.” The anger he was controlling was blatant in his hard stare. “I have tupped more than one of the ladies there who cut her most unfairly. They judged her for the acts they do so avidly behind closed doors.”
Heat blossomed in her cheeks. “You’ve changed.”
“Have I?”
“Yes, and you are aware of it, Richard. Everyone refers to you as a disgraced lord, and Mamma has been reluctant to send you invitations to our balls.”
“Disgraced?” His gaze was flinty. “It is your kind who are disgraceful.”
Evie flinched, pain blooming in her heart. “My kind? What have I done that you would hold me in such contempt?”
“That is precisely it, Evie, you have done nothing.”
She faltered at his h
arsh tone. “Permit me to—”
His unswerving gaze made her uneasy. “I will permit you nothing. You live in a gilded cage; one you are happy to reside within. You have no concept of the real world outside, of the sufferings that poor orphaned children, widows, and disabled veterans endure. People, Evie, people who hurt as we do, who bleed as we do. Your life is tea parties, balls, and musicales. You have no notion of the harsh realities of life, and you seem quite content with your ignorance.”
She was shocked by his ruthless candor.
He swore under his breath and raked his fingers through his thick raven-black hair, turning its careful disarray into a tangled mess. “Forgive me, I digress. I did not come here to quarrel.”
Struggling for equanimity she scanned the room, seeking for a less distressing topic. She spied a flower array and walked toward it. “Such a beautiful arrangement, in all its particulars, wouldn’t you agree?”
He dealt her a considering glance. “It is unlike you to quibble.”
“I thought it best to converse about something else, or we shall spend the evening arguing.” She inhaled softly. “Why are you here, Richard?”
“I received your note.”
“I write to you all the time.”
“The one where you heard the most odious and distressing news, and we must confer at once. That one.”
Evie contained her wince. “I sent that weeks ago.” She’d written that letter with her heart aching desperately and anger scything through her veins.
“And would I have been admitted to your parents’ parlor if I’d paid a social call?” he clipped icily.
She closed her eyes briefly before snapping them open. “Forgive me, I am being contrary. There are…rumors once again linking your name to Lady Honoria. I wonder at their veracity.”
His face shuttered. “I’ve not made my intentions public.”
She stared at him, suddenly unable to speak. His intentions? “You called upon her twice, before noon, walked with her in Hyde Park, and danced with her at Lady Pomeroy’s ball last week. The scandal sheets have been voracious. You never dance when you deign to attend a high society event.”
Incredulity filled his tawny gaze. “And?”
“Surely you see that was what has society agog.”
He scowled. “I dance with you upon occasion, and there are no rumors of such a nature.”
She gave an indelicate shrug. “Yes, but all of society knows we are particular friends when they are of a mind to recall it, and to not paint our friendship in a deprecatory fashion with ridiculous drawings in the scandal sheets. I daresay we have been in each other’s company for years, so if there had been something deeper than friendship it would have made itself evident, wouldn’t you agree?”
Good heavens, Lord, forgive my unruly tongue. Evie braced herself for rejection, her heart hammering in her chest. She had never spoken in a fashion that would hint at the tender feelings he roused in her. She hurried to him and pressed three of her fingers against his lips. “I spoke hastily. There is no need to address my outburst.”
He remained silent, but his eyes held a thousand questions. He encircled her wrist gently and shifted her hand. “Shouldn’t I?”