AWAKENING THE SHY MISS (12 page)

Chapter Fifteen

Y
esterday she’d forgotten to be self-conscious around him and she hadn’t realised it until she’d been getting ready for bed. She’d been so concerned about the missing artefacts, she hadn’t been nervous about facing Dimitri the day after the storm, also known as the day after
The Acts
. It was much easier to think of it as the day after the storm. She was less inclined to blush spontaneously. But when she’d spoken with him, she hadn’t blushed at all.

Evie puttered around the cataloguing ‘tent’, keeping busy with little tasks. She was too distracted to draw. Evie wished she would forget to be nervous today too, but she knew she wouldn’t. Andrew’s lords were coming to visit, led by Lord Belvoir and his catty daughter, Cecilia. Already, she could feel her stomach was tight with nerves. She did not want Cecilia in Little Westbury. She told herself Cecilia’s remarks couldn’t hurt her any more. She wasn’t a young girl, first out on the town, naïve and eager to make friends. She’d rather not have to test that hypothesis. But that wasn’t the only reason she didn’t want Cecilia in Little Westbury. A jealous little space deep inside her didn’t want Cecilia anywhere near Dimitri, not after yesterday afternoon. She wasn’t ready yet to let Dimitri go. She wanted to enjoy the thought of him as ‘hers’ for just a little while longer, even if the thought was more fantasy than reality.

Just how much, though, was open for discussion. The line between fantasy and reality was a blurry one. She could no longer discount the feeling that there was
something
between her and Dimitri, that it wasn’t all just her. Yesterday wasn’t an isolated incident. There’d been something that had sparked between them from the start. Dimitri cared for her. The thought brought a smile to her face as she worked. It didn’t matter that nothing could come of that caring in the long term. It was just nice to know he
liked
her and maybe even more than liked her, because she more than liked him. For the first time in her life, she was in a reciprocated relationship. That was enough.

At least it was until she saw a cloud of dust on the horizon. The knot in her stomach, which had loosened just a little, tightened again. Andrew’s lordly cavalcade was here. On cue, Dimitri strode out with Andrew beside him to meet the carriages. He was dressed as an English gentleman today, complete with a blue jacket, pristine linen and buckskin breeches, and tall boots polished to perfection. Everything about him was perfection. Even at a distance, she could tell he’d taken care with his
toilette
. His jaw was smooth, his hair was drawn back tight with a silver clasp done in the shape of a bear, the great Russian symbol. He looked every inch the Prince and less like the man she’d come to know.

Four carriages pulled up and disgorged their passengers, their voices floating to Evie’s work station as everyone exchanged greetings. Dimitri’s voice stood out above the rest, with its hard ‘r’s and low tones, contrasting with Andrew’s enthusiastic tenor. Dimitri seemed polished, relaxed, while Andrew appeared over-excited.

Belvoir and Cecilia were the last ones out of the carriages. Evie had hoped that perhaps they’d not come after all. She should have guessed Cecilia would want to make an entrance. Her father handed her down and Andrew introduced her to Dimitri. ‘Your Highness.’ Cecilia’s lilting voice carried on the breeze as she dipped a pretty curtsy, flashing a beatific smile. She looked stunning with her gold curls and pale skin, both of which were set off to advantage in a pink summer gown, her signature colour, with a pert straw hat with matching ribbon to keep off the sun, even though she carried a lacy parasol too. Cecilia Northam took no chances with the alabaster perfection of her skin. Evie looked down at her own ink-stained hands. Not like her. She had freckles in the summer and ink was her constant companion.

Dimitri bowed gallantly over Cecilia’s hand and raised her up. Cecilia took advantage, tucking her hand through his arm and not letting him go. It was clear she was ready for the tour to commence with her on the Prince’s arm and in the lead. Dimitri smiled at Cecilia and Evie wished he didn’t look so pleased about it even if it was ‘just business’.

She glanced at her desk. Maybe she should draw after all. She couldn’t spend the whole day fuming and wondering. If she wasn’t among them, it was her fault. Dimitri had invited her, saying she was a vital part of the work they’d done, but she had declined. She didn’t want to spend the day waiting in trepidation for Cecilia to make a cutting remark or, worst of all, to bring up her most embarrassing moment in front of Dimitri. Distance would be her strategy today. With luck, she’d escape Cecilia’s notice entirely.

* * *

She was absorbed in the drawing of a goblet when the group came past her station. The goblet took a certain level of skill because it had to be drawn from all angles, even the bottom of the base, in order to show off the insignia stamped into it that denoted it belonged to Lucius Artorious. It was one of the most important finds they had that linked the villa to his ownership.

‘This is where the magic happens.’ Dimitri walked the group up to her table with a sweep of his free hand, one of his big gestures. Evie would have liked to have stopped him. She wished he’d taken her at her word last night when she’d said she’d wanted no part of the ‘festivities’ today. But he hadn’t listened, so now she pasted a smile on her face and set down her pen, rising to greet the guests.

Cecilia was still on Dimitri’s arm, but his eyes lingered on Evie as he made the introductions. ‘Some of you may already know her, this is Miss Evaine Milham, our resident artist, who is in charge of drawing and cataloguing each of our finds no matter how small. Thanks to her, our work is recorded.’

‘Oh, Evie! It is you,’ Cecilia gushed with a bonhomie Evie had come not to trust. ‘I hardly recognised you.’ She laughed and fluttered a hand. ‘One never expects to see someone out of context. Normally, you’re wandering ballrooms, but here you are,
working
away.’

Evie would have given anything for Beatrice and May to suddenly emerge. Beatrice knew just how to handle Cecilia but Evie was on her own now. All handling would be left up to her. She decided not to dignify Cecilia’s doubly-pointed jab with a response. Instead, she directed attention towards the goblet. ‘Let me tell you about one of our most important finds,’ she began, catching a flicker of approval in Dimitri’s eye and a flash of apology too. She was glad when they left, but Andrew lingered behind, fingering the goblet.

‘I wish you wouldn’t touch that,’ Evie snapped. ‘It’s at least a thousand years old.’

Andrew withdrew his fingers. ‘You’re waspish today,’ he commented, studying her carefully. What was he looking for? The way he watched her with Dimitri these days was making her uncomfortable. ‘I don’t suppose your temper has anything to do with Dimitri fawning all over Cecilia?’

‘It looks more to me like it’s Cecilia fawning all over Dimitri. Besides, what do I care who he fawns over?’ Evie replied coolly.

‘They are handsome together, two very good-looking people always are,’ Andrew remarked. She tried not to let it sting. How could she compete with beautiful Cecilia Northam? She’d never been able to compete, but she hated being reminded of it. Cecilia was the beginning of all her woes.

‘I have work to do, if you would excuse me?’ Evie sat down and picked up her pen, her dismissal obvious.

Andrew didn’t leave immediately. Instead, he squatted down level with the table, level with her. His voice was soft. ‘Evie, look at me. He’s going to leave. I don’t want you to throw yourself away on a man who won’t appreciate you, not when there’s a man who does, perhaps even a man who is very nearby.’

Only then did he leave her. She waited for her heart to pound, her blood to race. Andrew had all but declared himself. Coupled with his talk of restoring his grandfather’s estate, and all the time he dedicated to driving her home, this was as close to direct declaration as it came. And she didn’t want it. Didn’t want him.

Evie stared into the distance, seeing nothing but her own thoughts. So the world didn’t end with a bang after all, but instead a quiet whisper of truth, arrived at after years of consideration. She would have thought such a momentous truth would be heralded with more fanfare. She didn’t want Andrew. She wanted Dimitri. But it wasn’t just that Dimitri was a trade-off, a better substitute for Andrew. She didn’t want Andrew regardless. Dimitri had merely helped her see it. And in helping her, she had come to want him with an intensity that rocked her to her core. She’d not realised how intense until she’d seen Cecilia standing with him, a reminder of how unattainable he truly was, how he wasn’t the sort of man meant for her even if he had all the time in the world. And it hurt. She didn’t want to give him up, not to time, not to the Cecilia Northams of the world. There were a lot of things perhaps she could change, but she couldn’t change that.

A shadow fell across her desk, large and male. She looked up to find Dimitri standing there looking penitent. He’d taken his coat off and it was slung over his arm. ‘I’m sorry.’

Evie rose and smoothed her hands on her apron, feeling self-conscious for the first time in a while in his presence. ‘For what? There’s nothing to be sorry for.’

‘I disagree. I wronged you today. I didn’t respect your request.’ He held out his hand. ‘Would you come walk with me?’

* * *

‘Tell me about Cecilia Northam. Tell me what she did to you,’ Dimitri asked quietly as they strolled in the little copse of trees to the west of the site. The animosity between the two women had been palpable today and Evie had handled the situation like a champion, but he still regretted putting her in that position and he was furious with Andrew, who ought to have known better.

‘There’s not much to tell...’ Evie began hesitantly. ‘She came out the same year we did, we being my friends, the ones you met that day in the street. She went on to be popular and we did not.’

‘And yet she’s not married,’ Dimitri commented. All the girls had been out three Seasons. Popular or not, Cecilia was no further along in her pursuit of a husband than Evie was arguably.

Evie gave a small laugh. ‘That’s thanks to my friend Claire. They were both angling after the same gentleman, only Claire loved him and Cecilia did not. Cecilia just wanted him as a trophy on her arm. Her father even offered to buy him a diplomatic post.’

‘Ah—’ Dimitri chuckled ‘—that explains why she was so taken with me.’ He tried for some self-deprecating humour. Cecilia was lovely, but to a man who had been schooled in the royal court of Kuban, she was untutored in the true art of subtlety. She’d been angling for him the moment she’d stepped out of the carriage and he’d known it. He was not interested.

Evie didn’t find it funny. ‘Of course she found you worth her attentions. She can’t stand for anyone to have anything more beautiful than she. She once copied a dress of Claire’s and wore it the same night to make sure everyone knew she was prettier in it.’

Dimitri went carefully here. They were getting closer to the heart of the matter. ‘And you, Evie? What did she do to you?’

Evie turned to face him, her sweet face set with a hardness he was not used to seeing on her and certainly didn’t like. The urge to protect surged strong as the simple sentence came out. ‘She exposed me, showed everyone what I was and that I wasn’t good enough for London society.’

Dimitri nodded, saying nothing. Sometimes silence was the best encourager. He squeezed her hand. Silence and touch. Evie bit her lip. ‘I was eager to be friends with all the new girls I met in London. Cecilia and her mother came to tea one afternoon and I showed Cecilia my sketch book full of drawings for dresses. I had always shown Claire and Bea and May. We all grew up together. I thought nothing of it.’ She paused here, blushing. ‘My friends were always so complimentary about my drawings that I thought Cecilia would be too. I even offered to make her something, as a gesture of friendship. I was always making things for Claire and the girls. It was prideful of me. I had sought to impress her. Perhaps I got my just desserts.’ Evie looked down. ‘She took my sketch book. I didn’t notice it was gone until later. She showed it to the other girls out that Season and made fun of the drawings and then made fun of me, in public. At balls she’d ask me if I was wearing a dress I had made myself and it was never done in a nice way. She nicknamed me the “seamstress”. The best way to deter her attentions was to not call attention to myself. It was horrible.’

He could imagine. He didn’t need any more details. He could imagine too how Evie had made the choice to slide away, withdrawing month by month until she was only surrounded by what was comfortable to her. Dimitri saw the knee-jerk logic of that, and the pain. He hurt for her, for the Evie who was ridiculed for her talents and then shunned.

‘I am doubly sorry, then, that I allowed her to be here.’

‘It’s all right. She’s everywhere. I have to deal with her.’ Evie shrugged and offered him a half-smile. ‘It’s enough to know that Andrew was wrong.’

‘Wrong?’ Dimitri was wary.

‘He said you were interested in her.’

What was Andrew playing at now? Dimitri feared he knew. There was only one reason a man would say something like that. Andrew wanted to drive a wedge between him and Evie. This was the second time Andrew had tried to do so. This time he’d gone after Evie. But he knew better than to malign Andrew to her.

Dimitri turned to face her. ‘How could I be interested in her when all my interest is fixed on you? The question is, are you still interested in him?’

He held his breath. He hadn’t known how much her answer mattered to him. This had been on the periphery of his thoughts, a little haze of guilt. He’d been wrong to kiss her, wrong to introduce her to passion’s delights if she still cared for another. This was probably something that should have been resolved beforehand, but it had seemed not to matter to either of them in the heat of the moment. It had been, in fact, easily forgotten by them both.

Evie reached up a hand and stroked the long line of his jaw. ‘I want
you
.’