Notorious (Rebels of the Ton #1) - Minerva Spencer Page 0,49
Well, I was down by the kitchen when—”
“Oh, Eva. You know you should not be eavesdropping.” Her friend had gotten into trouble more than once at school for lurking and listening. It was such an unappealing habit, not to mention Eva had heard unpleasant things about herself more than once. But who was she to lecture her friend on behavior after the letter she had received earlier?
Not that Eva appeared to mind the gentle scolding. Instead of being contrite she laughed. “Gabe calls it Evasdropping.” Her lip trembled and her beautiful face seemed to collapse in on itself. She grabbed Drusilla’s arm with small hands sheathed in York tan gloves. “I am so frightened for him, Dru. I know he’s done this before—but that was different because I didn’t learn about it until after.”
Drusilla knew exactly what she meant.
“I believe he’s more skilled than Visel, but mistakes and accidents do happen and . . .” She swallowed a sob. “Lord, I’m just so afraid for him.”
So was Drusilla, but she didn’t think admitting to her fear would help matters. She opened her mouth to soothe her friend, but Eva was not finished.
“I can’t stand the thought of him being there alone.”
“He won’t be, Eva. He will have Byer with him.”
“Oh, Byer.” She shook her head, dismissing the viscount with barely a thought. “I want to go.”
“What?”
“I want to be there. Do you want to go with me, or not?”
“Eva—”
“What? Why are you ‘Eva-ing’ me and looking at me that way? He is your husband now, Dru. Don’t you care what happens to him?”
“Of course I care.”
“Don’t you want to be there—to know what happens?”
Dru hesitated a moment too long.
“You do—I can see it in your face. I knew you did.”
Drusilla heaved a sigh. “I would like to know what happens.”
Eva squealed and grabbed her, but Drusilla shook away her hands and gripped Eva’s shoulders, giving her a slight shake.
“Listen to me.”
Eva stilled.
“I said I would like to go but I cannot.”
“But . . . why not?”
“I promised him, Eva.”
“You promised him you would not watch his duel?” She sounded understandably skeptical.
“No, I promised I would respect his privacy.”
“But this is not private—everyone in London knows about it by now.”
“That may be true, but that doesn’t mean he wants everyone in London to be watching tomorrow morning.”
“You don’t understand, Dru. Visel is . . . well, he’s been following Gabe.”
“What?”
Eva nodded, her color heightening. “Yes, he’s up to something—something more than just this duel. He’s—”
Drusilla held up a hand. “Wait. How do you know he is following Gabriel?”
Eva stared at her for a long, silent moment and then admitted, “Because I’ve been following him.”
“My God, Eva!”
“I knew you would respond that way. You needn’t worry—he’s never noticed me.”
“Why would you do such a thing?”
“Because he’s been acting hostile toward Gabe all Season. I thought he might try to harm him. And it turned out I was right, didn’t it?”
Drusilla ignored the question. “So why didn’t you tell somebody? Why would you come to the conclusion that following him was wise?” She allowed her gaze to travel over her friend. “Is that why you are wearing these clothes? Have you been going about dressed like this? What would happen if your father—”
“I did not come here to discuss what I’ve been wearing or doing. Are you going to come with me tomorrow, or not?” Eva looked remarkably like the terrifying Marquess of Exley, her beautiful features as cold and distant as the Scottish Highlands.
“I told you, I cannot.”
“But he will never know.”
The next half hour saw a repeat of this conversation, but with Eva finding new and creative ways to couch her argument. They went around and around and around.
Eva wasn’t the only one arguing; Drusilla had her own demands.
“You must promise me you will not go, Eva.”
Eva’s derisive laughter told her what she thought about that suggestion.
Drusilla stared at her friend and carefully considered her next words before she released them.
“I will tell Gabriel what you are going to do unless you give me your word you will not go.”
Eva’s jaw dropped, and a series of small, disbelieving sounds came out of her mouth before she leaped to her feet, the hem of her greatcoat swirling around her boots. “You wouldn’t.”
Drusilla’s face was hot and her heart felt as if it were being squeezed by a giant fist, but she could not back down. “Yes, I would.”
“But—but I came here to share this with you. It is a . . .