Enticing Eve: Scandalous Secrets, Book 2 (6 page)

Mama and Papa have left me, and they didn’t say goodbye … such were the thoughts of a frightened little girl.

“No son of a man as kind and loving as your grandfather could ever desert his family,” her grandmother whispered as if reading Eve’s mind.
 

Although Eve believed her grandmother at the time, she soon came to learn that her father couldn’t have been any less like the man who sired him. Indeed her parents did not want her, but that became the least of their offenses.
 

A few years later, James Weston and his wife fled London, leaving his mother under the weight of their massive debts. By this time, the Weston family estates were in disarray, their accounts dwindling, and Eve and her grandmother faced losing their home.
 

If not for the kindness of the Dowager Duchess of Davenport and her son, Sebastian, Eve and her grandmother would have been penniless. Not only did the duke straighten out the Westons’ finances, but he also managed their estates along with his own,
 
bestowing
 
upon
 
Eve’s
 
father
 
a
 
generous allowance that thus allowed the Viscount and his wife to continue traveling abroad to their hearts’ content.

It was because of the kindness of the ninth Duke of Davenport that Eve and her grandmother were able to survive with their social standing intact. Additionally, his discretion insured that no one outside of their immediate families ever knew of his generosity.

When Eve’s parents perished, the family’s estates were part of an entail to be inherited by Eve’s cousin.
 

The loss of her beloved son then, subsequently, the prospect of losing her home devastated the Dowager Viscountess and, for the first time in her life, hatred pulsated through Eve’s veins. She despised her parents. Not for herself or her own pain but for their despicable treatment of her grandmother.
 

Sebastian once again stepped in, paying a hefty sum for their estate. Eve was certain he paid twice what it was worth and felt indebted to him. She once tried to thank him, but Sebastian wouldn’t hear of it, stating that Fiona was like a second mother to him. It was at that exact moment that Eve learned the power of family. It stemmed not from one’s bloodlines but one’s heart. After all, the duke was more of a son to Fiona Weston than her own had ever been.

Although Eve’s father was the first man to disappoint her, he wasn’t the last. Her thoughts drifted back to Colin. What made him think that he could return after so much time had passed and pick up where he left off?

Eve shoved herself away from the door.
 

“Damn the past and damn Colin MacAlistair, the insufferable, presumptuous man,” Eve muttered aloud.

Heading down the wide hallway to her grandmother’s suite, Eve’s resolve strengthened with every step. She survived the wreckage that Colin’s departure had made of her life. So, too, would she survive his return.
 

Upon reaching her grandmother’s suite, Eve rapped on the door. She could discern several inaudible words spoken in a clipped tone before the woman’s usually sweet voice bellowed the command, “Enter!”

Eve turned the brass knob; however, she encountered resistance while trying to push the door open. Managing to peer through the narrow opening she’d created, her attention was immediately drawn to the floor where a sea of colorful fabrics were strewn about, including several gowns piled high in front of the door.

“Grandmamma,” Eve called, scanning the room. “I believe your gowns are attempting an escape.”
 

The elder woman’s eyes widened as if surprised that her garments were attempting a massive fashion coup. “Oh, my dear girl, allow me to help you.”

Wearing a bright fuchsia and violet gown while a fur hat dyed in vivid orange bobbed atop her silver ringlets, Fiona
 
kicked several garments blocking her path. She stopped briefly to rescue a black and white feather boa and wrap it around her neck before winding her way to the door.
 

Eve stifled a giggle behind her hand as the sweet woman then scooped up several of the gowns that blocked the door before heaving them onto a floral chaise.

“My dear,” the Viscountess announced, adjusting her hat so it now lay flat atop her mass of curls. “I fear I have become quite boring.”
 

Eve arched her brow as she surveyed the collection of colorful fabrics, feathers, and furs strewn about the room, smiling at the sweet woman’s perception of boring.
 

Although a member of nobility by marriage, the Dowager Viscountess rebelled against polite society

and its strict rules of conduct by dressing in the most ostentatious manner possible. Her gratification came from quizzing acquaintances at balls and other gatherings in regards to what they thought of her garish garments.

Such was the Viscountess’s social experiment. By testing members of her peerage, her goal was to see who amongst them would be honest with her. In most cases, her test subjects failed miserably but there were exceptions, those who voiced their opinions or met her grandmother’s exam with a wry sense of humor. These were the friends allowed into the Viscountess’s inner circle – her extended family.

“Dear Grandmamma,” Eve entered the room then reached for her grandmother’s outrageous hat, tilting it so it again lay crooked on her head. “Rest assured that you will never be boring. Such a thing is impossible.”
 

Fiona laughed, her head bobbing up and down as her hat fell to the floor. After kicking it to the side, she then proceeded to her open wardrobe where only a rainbow-colored satin gown now hung. “I suppose this will suffice,” she said in a dejected tone, her shoulders slumped.

Eve turned her attention towards her grandmother’s bed and ran her fingers over a jade gown accented with peacock feathers. “May I inquire as to the occasion?” she asked.

“Have you forgotten the duke’s dinner invitation?” Fiona turned to her granddaughter, her smile bright. “You and I discussed it earlier.”

Eve’s hand stilled in the process of toying with a soft, colorful feather. She had indeed forgotten. In truth, Eve hoped to avoid another encounter with Colin, well aware that she allowed him to get too close. Such a thing must never happen again.
 

It would never happen again.
 

Her thoughts returned to her betrothed. Perhaps she could use tonight’s dinner party to speak privately with Colin and ask him not to tell Tristan about their history before she had the opportunity.
 

Yes, that is what she would do.
 

“Go with the peacock gown,” Eve instructed her grandmother. “It has always been one of my favorites.”
 

The Viscountess reached for the creation in question. “I am partial to this, as well. Then again, I adore each of the gowns you’ve designed for me.” She winked at her granddaughter then shook the garment causing several feathers to float through the air.

Eve motioned to the many gowns scattered about the spacious room. “Shall I help you straighten this mess before I dress for our outing?”
 

“Oh,
 
good
 
heavens,
 
no,”
 
her
 
grandmother replied, her expression animated. “I’ll ring for Hattie. You know how she loves playing dress up.”

Hattie, the Dowager Viscountess’s maid, was a plump, middle-aged woman with a heart of gold and flaming red hair with streaks of blonde. The thought of Hattie wearing Fiona’s rainbow dress or the fuchsia one with splashes of orange and yellow
 
caused Eve’s shoulders to shake with mirth as she exited her grandmother’s bedchamber.
 

For one brief moment, Eve had forgotten about the evening with Colin that lay before her. Reality was quick to return, though, and Eve could no longer hide from what she was certain would be a long night.
 

Even though her reunion with Colin this afternoon had shaken Eve to her very core, causing her to doubt everything she believed just hours earlier, she remained determined that Colin would never know how much he affected her.

Over the course of Colin’s departure and the events that followed, Eve became proficient at the art of pretense. She convinced polite society, her friends, and even her family that she was happy and that her life was as it should be. No one ever suspected the terrible heartache she harbored.
 

The evening ahead would be no exception.
 

Eve would make certain of it.

* * *

Eve and her grandmother arrived at the duke’s grand estate shortly before four. It was a warm day though not oppressive with a gentle breeze keeping the heat at bay. Since the summer months would quickly be drawing to a close, Eve was happy to learn that they’d be having dinner on the terrace.

Gwendolyn MacAlistair, the Duchess of Davenport, and her sister-in-law Victoria received Eve and Fiona with wide smiles and warm hugs.

“It is wonderful to see you, Fiona,” Gwen said, kissing the Dowager Viscountess’s cheek before admiring Eve’s gown made of daffodil-colored silk accentuated with jade ribbon and piping. “You look lovely, Eve. Is that your design?”

“But, of course.” Eve grinned, bending her knees in a mock curtsey.

“Oh, you’re wearing the peacock gown,” Victoria’s silken voice was rich with enthusiasm as she toyed with the plumage at the Viscountess’s skirts. “I adore this one, Fiona.”

 
“I know you do, my dear, which is why I brought
   
a
 
surprise
   
for
   
you,”
   
the
   
Dowager Viscountess announced as she reached into her exceptionally large reticule, a multi-hued concoction of mauve, turquoise, and scarlet feathers. She then removed what could best be described as the most ostentatious fan Eve had ever seen. At least she thought it was a fan since the mass of peacock feathers almost rendered her grandmother’s creation unrecognizable.

With an elegant flick of her wrist, the elder woman then revealed a painted screen resembling the face of a peacock with large eyes.
 

Victoria laughed as she admired her gift. “Fiona, this is fabulous. Thank you.”

“Hattie and I completed it today,” Fiona explained. “I made another for myself so you and I will match, you see. I thought we could test those fops at the Russells’ ball next week.”

“Perfect,” her cohort said with a conspiratorial wink. “I have just the gown to wear with it. Would you like to see it?”

The Dowager Viscountess nodded in agreement, and the two women proceeded down the hall, plotting their grand scheme in exuberant voices.

“Is it your grandmother’s intention to ensure that Victoria never weds?” Gwen whispered to Eve behind her hand.
 

 
“I believe that is Grandmamma’s dastardly scheme,” Eve arched her brow. “Ever since she witnessed the young Mister Elliot flirting with Tori at the Stocktons’ annual ball, Grandmamma’s most popular topic of conversation is how none of the fops in attendance are good enough for Victoria.”

Gwen grimaced. “I see.”

“I must warn you.” Eve turned towards Gwen. “Grandmamma has requested that I design a peacock gown for Victoria, lest Tori find herself in desperate need of warding off an unwanted admirer.”

With a dejected sigh, Gwen looked upwards toward the ceiling as if seeking divine intervention. “Please assure me that it will be tasteful.”

“It shall be a mixture of tasteful elegance with a flamboyant flair.” Eve’s voice was animated before she added with a hint of sarcasm, “I dare say that Victoria will be the talk of the town if she ever dares to don this gown.”

“Of that I am certain,” Gwen rolled her eyes.

At that very moment, Victoria’s rambunctious collie entered the hall, and upon catching sight of Fiona’s skirt adorned with peacock feathers, raced towards her. The Viscountess began to waddle as fast as her stubby legs could take her while Victoria carried her train.

“Molly, stop it, you silly girl,” Victoria said to her precious pup in an attempt to shoo her away. When that approach failed to garner her desired result, she dropped Fiona’s train and instead began to scratch her dog’s chin. “What are you doing?”

The Viscountess meanwhile continued to waddle towards the stairs. Her skirt was too snug for her to walk up the stairs so instead she hopped, an impassioned “ooh” escaping her lips with each step.

First, Gwen’s shoulders began to shake with mirth followed by Eve’s. As the two watched the scene unfold, Molly escaped from Victoria’s grasp and bounded up the stairs, snatching Fiona’s reticule in her teeth before running off with it.

“If you will excuse me,” Gwen said with a wry smile.
 
“I must help rescue your grandmother’s bird from Victoria’s collie.”

“It is a reticule,” Eve corrected.

Gwen arched her brow. “Try convincing the collie of that.”

“Point well taken.” Eve couldn’t help but laugh.