"Oh, Edward!" Evelyn exclaimed, exasperated. She tossed aside the letter in her hand in frustration. There was no need for her to reread it.

She hadn't been home an hour after leaving Edward when a note arrived for her. Edward made some thin excuse for not seeing her that evening after all. She knew she shouldn't be so distraught, but she had been looking forward to his company. One night of light-hearted diversion would have been such a reprieve after suffering months of disapproving glares from strangers.

"I mustn't blame Edward," she reasoned with herself. "I told Edward that I can look after myself after all, so I must solve my own difficulties."

While a firm plan eluded her, she resolved to carry on as before. But now she must take extra care to avoid Lord Davenport and banish him from her thoughts.

But both those resolutions proved impossible.

All of society was in a sudden uproar over a rumour that his lordship was seeking a wife. The frenzy that one bit of news created was not something she could have imagined. Indeed, his lordship made appearances at all those social events he previously avoided. Overnight, all the gowns were newer, the jewels brighter, and the air so thick with exotic fragrances that choked the air. Old dear friends became rivals. Rivals turned into fierce enemies. It was comical how well-bred young ladies fell over each other to reach him. Afterwards, they spent hours and hours huddled together, reminiscing over every word he deigned to utter.

"The marriage market," Evelyn thought, recalling Lord Davenport's words.

While Lord Davenport seemed to be everywhere she went, he stayed clear of Evelyn. She convinced herself she was glad that his attention was now elsewhere, even if the memory of his kiss was still branded on her lips. She couldn't see or smell strawberries without feeling breathless and light-headed. Then, at odd moments, she felt the icy fire of his gaze on her, even across the expanse of a crowded room. Whatever she did, wherever she went, whoever she spoke to, she felt a prick on her skin that told her he was watching, scrutinising her.

One evening, Evelyn found herself in yet another grand salon of a resplendent townhome, amongst blue-blooded ingénues. A roaring fire had been inexplicably lit on this warm night. The air was thick and suffocating with the strong sweet scent of different potions and perfumes. Yawns were suppressed behind fans and gloved palms. Several heads nodded off at the sound of yet another young lady plucking away on a harp.

Outwardly, Evelyn affected the appearance of rapt attention. But the last place she wanted to be was there. She was still recovering from a head cold. Her maid had again laced her bodice so tight she felt faint. In her mind, she was counting down the hours until it was time to leave.

The hour was fast approaching for the men to put aside their whiskey, cigars and politics to join the ladies once more. The gaggle of young ladies roused out of their stupor to arrange themselves into a charming tableau in anticipation of their arrival. Now and again, a curious set of eyes stole glances towards the serene and elegant Lady Evelyn, in a primrose gown. Her dark tresses were pulled into an updo with invisible pins. As usual, her only ornament was a simple gold pendant around her slender white neck. They all sat up just a bit straighter to mimic the elegant lines of this young lady's shoulders. When Evelyn unfurled her fan, several fans unfurled in imitation. But when her cheeks dimpled, and she held her fan to her lips to suppress a smile, those fans snapped shut in a huff.

"They must think I'm having a laugh at them," Evelyn thought. "But, I suppose I am."

Close to her sat Regina and Mary. As usual, the dowdy sisters spoke to no one except each other. They ignored Evelyn in particular. But bits of the sisters' whispered conversation wafted over to her.

She heard Mary whisper, "--tells me that some husband would want the wife to wrap her lips around it— she would be on her knees before him, or he would crouch over her when he forces it in. "

" I'm sure no gentleman would ask that of a lady!" Regina whispered back with a shudder. "No refined lady would agree to such a thing. Would she?"

".--he would spill into her that way."

"Spill what, Mary?" asked Regina, dumbfounded.

"What about the teeth, I wonder," said Mary half to herself, ignoring Regina's wide-eyed inquiry. "I can't imagine it would be so pleasant if she were to be, say, startled!"

Both girls stifled their giggles when a dower-faced matron uttered several stern warning coughs. The two young ladies dutifully lowered their eyes.

"What nonsense!" Evelyn thought. A warmth rose from somewhere deep within her when Lord Davenport's face flashed before her.

"He invades my dreams, and when I'm awake," she muttered out loud to herself. "Am I to have no reprieve from him?"

The same dower-faced matron again cleared her throat and frowned.

Just then, the double doors of the salon opened to a noisy horde of the boisterous young men as they came bounding in—wafts of cigar smoke mingled with perfumes. The harp stopped for the moment as the lords and ladies greeted each other with excited conversation and laughter.

Two men instantly found their way to Evelyn. The younger of the two, with wavy auburn hair and dark hooded eyes, she recognised as Henry Wilkes. It seemed ages ago since she danced with Henry on that same night she first encountered Lord Davenport. But she did not know the other man.

"Lady Evelyn, may I introduce Sir Adam. I promised he would feast his eyes on the most sublime creature he had ever seen. Well, Sir Adam? Am I not a man of my word?"

Once more, she flinched under Henry's sunken gaze as she fanned herself. "You're too generous, Mr Wilkes."

Mary and Regina batted their lashes behind their fluttering fans, eager for their notice. When their efforts failed, they stood up in unison and huffed off. No one paid them any mind.

"Tell me," Sir Adam slurred as his eyes followed the flutter of her fan. The sharp stink of liquor wafted from him. "How did you enjoy Dido and Aeneas?"

"I've not seen it."

"Well, why would our own Carthaginian queen bother with some trite play," Henry interjected.

"Cartesian?" Lord Adams slurred, scratching at his thinning hair. "I thought it was Troy."

"Marvelous how settings change," Evelyn said with a stilted smile. "I may require one myself, as I've yet to recover from a cold--"

"You've not been well?" Henry cried with concern in his voice that didn't reach his eyes.

She was about to reply, but Lord Adams interjected. "Fresh air! Nothing will revive the body quite like sweet country air, away from this foulness."

"Then, you must join me in the country," Henry Wilkes said to the young lady. "I've acquired a new filly. Quite gentle. You'd honour me, Lady Evelyn, if you'd try her out. There's simply no better way to take in the air."

Lord Adam produced a snifter out of nowhere and took a deep drink before belching out the corner of his mouth. "Good God, man. It's unnatural for young ladies, especially pretty ones, to go gallivanting like some savage. If my lady is feeling unwell, then a turn in my gardens is just the thing. Far more civilised, too. Volumes have been written about my horticulture achievements, you know."

"All self-published," Henry Wilkes replied with a sweet smile.

Evelyn glanced at one man, then the other. "I'm not very proficient on a horse, and my knowledge of gardens is from observation. Which is to say, very little."

"Lady Evelyn means to put us off, Sir Adam. But, we won't give up so easily, will we? We see through Lady Evelyn's modesty, and we assure her she's got a pair of the most diligent friends in us. She must come riding with us, and she'll delight us with her skill."

"You're too kind." She fanned herself with growing unease. The drunken Sir Adams' seemed harmless enough, but he might topple over at any moment, the way he swayed forward and his heavy eyelids drooped. Henry Wilkes, though, felt false with every word he uttered.

"Not at all, my lady. I can't tell you how you've brightened our dark lives with your light. I know you've mastered all feminine pursuits."

"Now you're mocking me, sir. I'm certain I wasn't born possessing any skills at all, for skill implies usefulness."

Both men gave her blank, surprised looks. "How curious," Henry said without moving his lips. "I didn't think one so beautiful would possess such singular thoughts."

Sir Adams was salivating into her cleavage. "Thinking is for homely women."

It took everything in her not to cringe. She raised her fan higher over her chest as she tried her best to keep her smile fixed and her voice even as a young lady ought to. "Tabula rasa," she said despite herself. The sound of a deep chuckle behind her made Evelyn's spine stiffened.

Henry threw back his head and laughed. "I never believed that young ladies should be confined to just domesticity. It's so charming to see one of the fair sex buck the norm."

"How radical," Evelyn retorted under her breath.

Henry inched closer. "I'm afraid I have to disagree with the idea that we enter this world as blank sheets. I am sure the moment I opened my eyes, I recognised truth and beauty. In you, my dearest lady, I see both."

She wondered why this sudden interest from Henry Wilkes after he had not paid her any attention for some weeks now.

"Hard to determine when our consciousness ignited. Who amongst us can claim to recall the moments of our birth? Without those memories, we cannot say for certain what knowledge we arrived with. But, such things are too much for a mere woman to comprehend."

Henry nudged Sir Adam with a wink and a knowing smile. "Remarkable, is she not?" he asked.

Sir. Adams grunted. Now that her fan blocked the most interesting part of her, he was more interested in finding his next drink. "Reading causes ill-humour in a young lady."

She admonished herself to say less and pray they would soon leave her be. "You must forgive me, sirs. I have an unfortunate habit of repeating tidbits I've overheard--"

"Eavesdropping is beneath you, I should think," a familiar deep voice said behind her.

Evelyn's breath caught in her throat. She shivered when Lord Davenport's imposing figure emerged from somewhere behind her. As one, they greeted his lordship before he took up the spot between Sir. Adams and Henry Wilkes, dwarfing both.

"All young ladies require firm guidance," Sir. Adams slurred as he tilted the last drop of liquid from his snifter into his wide, open mouth. He grimaced when Lord Davenport slapped a large hand on his shoulder in a painful grip.

The perspective Henry looked from the indomitable figure of Lord Davenport to the seated young lady from beneath his brows. She had a pinched look about her, perching on the edge of her seat as though she might cry or flee at any moment. "That famous Davenport charm at work again," Henry thought.

Henry knew Lord Davenport arrived late to dinner that evening. He sat at one end of the long dining table to hold court in his usual fashion. But Henry had noticed with some interest how his lordship seemed to take great pains not to speak to Lady Evelyn seated but a few seats away. Yet, not a moment passed when his lordship's gaze didn't seem to seek out that particular young lady. But, of course, Henry had his own sights on that said young lady.

"Forgive me. I-- I've repeated something I overheard," Evelyn was saying, peeking up at his lordship beneath her lashes.

"Damn nuisance!" Sir Adams declared. "Nowadays, anyone capable of shouting will spew their vacuous drivel from any public square. It's an infestation!"

"Are you political, my lady?" Henry asked, but it was Lord Davenport who responded.

"Lady Evelyn is fond of all sorts of lofty pursuits."

Henry's brows shot halfway up his forehead. "Could Lord Davenport claim to know her so well?" he wondered.

"None worth mentioning," Evelyn grumbled down at her folded hands in her lap.

"The lady is immune to flattery," Lord Davenport explained without taking his eyes from her. "However, my lady, you ought to take greater care or you might be accused of being subversive to the crown. That might displease your dearest friends."

"My opinions are of no consequence to anyone," she croaked her response. "I have no desire to be disagreeable, my lord."

"Of course, if you fear your views may spoil our admiration of you, let me assure you it shan't. We are all devout admirers of Lady Evelyn here, aren't we?"

"Quite right," Henry agreed, diverted by what he was witnessing. "Nothing you can say can be disagreeable--"

Lord Davenport cut Henry off. "I'm sure we're all curious where you've studied your fringe philosophies, my lady. What interesting company you must keep."

Evelyn plucked the edges of her fan. It was no use feigning lightheartedness anymore. "My lord, I won't bore you."

"Humour me."

"I--why I've kept your attention far too long, my lord. I see several others eager for your notice--"

"Lady Evelyn--" Lord Davenport interjected, with his eyes still on her. "--means to keep her enigma by withholding what I'm certain is a well thought out opinion. We see through her ploy, don't we?"

She glowered up at him. "I believe you're trying to trick me into speaking of unfeminine things, my lord."

"No one can doubt your femininity," Henry said with genuine amusement as he looked from Lord Davenport to Evelyn again. "I imagine you have an interesting understanding of everything. Women often do, my lord. Their minds are different from ours. Small matters hold such fascination for them. They interpret things in a rather charming, simplistic way. Come! I'm fascinated to know your thoughts on any topic of your choosing, my lady."

Lord Davenport finally tore his gaze from the enchanting young woman before him and flicked his cold gaze to the other man. "Quite. Look, the others are retiring to the music room. Henry? Sir Adams? Perhaps you'll join them?"

Henry Wilkes' pleasant smile never wavered as he bowed in silent acceptance that he and Sir Adams were being dismissed.