Sunlight poured into the drawing room of the Everleigh Estate, Evelina sat between her elder sister Arabella and her sister-in-law Clarissa, their chatter mingling with the faint shrieks of children darting through the gardens outside. The scent of roses drifted in on the summer breeze, sweet but faint as if the day itself conspired to soften the edges of their talk.
"You looked breathtaking at the summer ball," Arabella said in tone half-admiring yet half-playful tone. "I swear, every head in that hall turned the moment you entered."
Clarissa added with a grin, "And with the Grand Duke escorting you? He wore the look of a man who had just won a rare prize."
Evelina laughed softly, though color warmed her cheeks. "You make it sound far grander than it was. It was just a ball and His Grace was merely being polite."
Arabella lifted a brow. "Polite? Sister, the way he hovered near you, one would think he feared you might vanish into thin air."
Before Evelina could protest further Clarissa leaned in, lowering her voice though mischief with sparkled in her eyes. "Polite or not, that is not the only story floating about. I have also heard whispers about you and the young Duke of Ravenscroft."
Evelina's hand stilled on the rim of her teacup. For the briefest moment, the laughter from the garden seemed too far away. "It was nothing," she said, careful to keep her tone even. "A brief conversation, nothing more."
Arabella and Clarissa exchanged a glance that was anything but casual. Arabella reached across and clasped Evelina's hand gently. "Rumors may begin with nothing but you know how swiftly they can grow. People will twist a simple word into a scandal if it serves their purpose."
Clarissa nodded, her expression softening. "And you must remember, Father's loyalty lies with the Grand Duke. He would never place you in harm's way but tongues wagging about you and the young Ravenscroft could bring the wrong kind of attention. To them, even your silence can be turned against you."
Evelina looked down at her lap, the weight of their concern pressing against her chest. She tried to smile, though it felt fragile. "I know. I will be cautious."
Arabella gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "We only want to protect you. You're the heart of this family, Evelina. No rumor is worth seeing your name shadowed."
For a moment, Evelina let her gaze drift out to the gardens. The children ran, chasing butterflies across the lawn, their laughter bright and unburdened. She envied them, their world untouched by whispers, alliances, and politics.
But as she watched, she couldn't quite shake the image of Lucian's quiet eyes from her thoughts nor the way the court would never understand the simple truth that sometimes a conversation was just that, and sometimes… it was something a heart refused to forget.
By afternoon, casting long shadows across the fields as Evelina rode out to the Whitcombe estate. The invitation from Baron Whitcombe had been politely worded, promising a ride through the trails of Kingswood Forest. It was no secret among her friends that Evelina delighted in horseback riding and she had agreed without hesitation. Few things steadied her heart like the rhythm of hooves and the rush of air in her face.
Dressed in her riding suit of deep navy trimmed with silver, Evelina carried herself with quiet confidence, her gloves fitted snugly as she dismounted at the appointed place. Lady Margaret Lescott, the baron's fiancée and her closest friend greeted her warmly.
"Evee," Margaret said with a smile that carried both excitement and a trace of nervousness, "how kind of you to come. I have been looking forward to this all week."
"The pleasure is mine," Evelina replied with a sweet smile. "A ride through Kingswood is always a welcome break from the chatter of the city."
Baron Whitcombe joined them offering a courteous bow before gesturing toward the forest path. His eyes, though usually steady, held a faint gleam that betrayed his own anticipation not just for the day but for the weeks to come.
They lingered a while before mounting, speaking of his and Margaret's upcoming wedding. Evelina listened attentively as Margaret described the plans with the enthusiasm of a bride-to-be.
"The celebration will be modest by court standards," Margaret said, her cheeks glowing, "but I hope it feels warm and full of joy. I want it to be a day remembered not for its splendor but for its sincerity."
Baron Whitcombe's lips curved into a rare, softened smile. "Every detail is of her choosing," he said, pride quiet but clear. "I have no doubt, it will be as radiant as she is."
Evelina's chest warmed at their easy affection. "Then it will surely be a beautiful day," she said. "The truest celebrations are not in the grandness of the hall but in the happiness of those within it."
Margaret laughed lightly brushing a strand of hair back beneath her riding hat. "You make me feel calmer already, Evee. It seems every corner of court has its whispers, but here in this, we are untouched."
At that, Evelina's smile faltered for only a breath. The words reminded her of the whispers that trailed her from the summer ball, of young Ravenscroft's name whispered beside hers. She quickly recovered, nodding. "Yes. Here, it is simpler. And perhaps that is why I treasure days like these."
The horses stamped impatiently, eager for the ride and Baron Whitcombe gestured toward the shaded trail. "Shall we?" he asked.
The horses stamped restlessly as the small party prepared to mount. Evelina adjusted her gloves, smiling as Margaret fussed with the strap of her riding hat. Baron Whitcombe, ever the patient fiancé, offered a steadying hand. Their laughter mingled easily and Evelina felt some of the morning's heaviness lift.
But then, the sound of hooves on the packed earth drew her gaze to the edge of the clearing. Another rider approached, tall and unmistakably poised even at a distance.
Lord Lucian Ravenscroft.
His dark coat caught the slanting light, his expression composed but his eyes sharp as ever. He dismounted smoothly, offering a respectful bow first to Lady Lescott and Baron Whitcombe before his gaze settled, however briefly, on Evelina.
"My apologies for arriving late," Lucian said, his tone courteous, though his presence seemed to shift the air around them. "I was invited to join the ride and thought it unwise to decline."
"You are most welcome, my lord," Baron Whitcombe replied, though his glance flicked quickly toward Evelina, a trace of surprise there.
Within moments, the group mounted. Ravenscroft positioned himself near the rear, his gaze steady as Evelina urged her mare forward, taking the lead with Margaret at her side. The forest canopy soon enclosed them cool and green, the sounds of hooves muffled by the earth.
It was not long, Evelina's pace quickened, her horse spirited as its rider carried her a little further ahead. When she glanced back, she found Lucian had matched her stride. The others were just visible behind, their voices fading beneath the hush of leaves and birdsong.
"You ride well," Lucian said with his distinguished low voice. "Better than most men I have seen and far better than any lady could be expected to."
Evelina arched a brow, though a faint smile tugged at her lips. "Expected to? That sounds dangerously like flattery, my lord."
"Not flattery," he replied evenly, his gaze steady on her profile. "Observation."
She laughed softly, shaking her head as she guided her mare around a bend. "Horseback riding is hardly a remarkable talent. It is only practice and perhaps a little stubbornness."
"Then perhaps it is the stubbornness I admire," Lucian said, and though his tone was calm, there was something unguarded in the way the words slipped out.
Evelina glanced at him then, her eyes narrowing slightly in both curiosity and caution. "Careful, my lord. Rumors cling easily to misplaced admiration."
The words were meant to be light but they carried more weight than she intended. For a moment the air between them stilled, the forest pressing in close.
Lucian held her gaze. "Let them whisper. You and I both know the truth of our conversation even if the court chooses to twist it."
Her heart skipped once, though she quickly looked away, focusing instead on the trail winding ahead. "Perhaps. But not every truth is meant for the court to know."
They rode in silence for a few moments, the rhythm of hooves and the quiet hush of the forest filling the space between them. Evelina could feel it the unspoken words, the questions hovering on Ravenscroft's tongue, and the steady weight of his regard.
Behind them, the sounds of Margaret and Baron Whitcombe's laughter grew fainter. Evelina realized only then how far they had strayed, though a part of her wondered if it was truly by accident.