Free London's Perfect Scoundrel by Suzanne Enoch Page B

Mama has agreed to accompany you to the next tea. We need to redouble our efforts. Plimpton’s after the Alvington votes.”
    “Mama’s going?”
    “She’s very committed to my cause. And so should you be, Evelyn.”
    “I already am, Victor.” Wonderful . Now she would have to go to the tea, and she’d have to spend the entire time there listening to how wonderful Victor was, and how their mother had encouraged her to marry before Victor’s return from India, because now that he was home, no one would be good enough for Evie. And it wasn’t because she was perfect; it was because Victor’s standards were so high.
    “Where are you off to now?” Her brother took the top book from the stack in her arms before she could stop him. “A reading primer?”
    “The duchess asked me to familiarize myself with it.”
    With a snort, he returned it. “Have your fun, then. Does the duke know you’re supporting his wife’s cause?”
    “Of course he does.” Thankfully, lying to Victor was fairly simple, since he remained consumed with his campaign.
    “Make certain he knows that you have my approval, then.”
    “I will.”
    “Well, hurry up. You don’t keep a duchess waiting.”
    No one kept the Marquis of St. Aubyn waiting, either. As soon as Victor vanished into his study, Evelyn hurried out the front door. “To the orphanage, with all possible speed,” she whispered up to Phillip.
    “Very good, Miss Ruddick.”
    This project would have been so much easier without Victor or St. Aubyn about. One misstep in front of either of them would ruin everything. As Lucinda had pointed out, other charities existed, all of them without Saint and at least one of them probably tame and ladylike enough to be acceptable to Victor and his political ambitions.
    The Heart of Hope Orphanage, though, was the establishment that had caught her attention, the one that most seemed to need her, and the one that she most needed. If she could make a difference there, then she would truly have accomplished something. No one would stop her from doing that; she wouldn’t allow it.
     
    The Marquis of St. Aubyn eyed the clustered group of females inside the orphanage’s main entry. He had no idea where they’d come from or why they’d decided to visit the Heart of Hope this morning, but they were a wholly unremarkable lot, as far as he was concerned. If they hadn’t been muttering Miss Ruddick’s name, he never would have allowed them entry. At least they’d provided him with a few moments of amusement, when he’d tried pacing back and forth and they’d scurried away from him like a terrified flock of hens. Apparently even the lower classes knew of his reputation.
    Frightening poorly coiffed spinsters was well and good, he supposed, but he hadn’t risen at the ungodly hour of nine in the morning for their sakes. He pulled out his pocket watch and flipped it open again. MissRuddick was late. If she didn’t appear in the next ten minutes, she would find these odd females booted out to the street and the doors locked behind them.
    He supposed he didn’t need to wait; the more objects he placed in Evelyn’s path, the more likely she was to give up this nonsense. At the same time, he found himself curious as to what she intended to do here. In his experience, no one volunteered their time or their money without reason; whatever she was up to, he would figure it out. He would figure her out, and then take all of his building frustration out on her, again and again and again.
    The front double doors opened. He half thought it might be another of the hens, but at the electricity creeping up his arms, he turned. Miss Ruddick hurried into the foyer, her bonnet blown back from her auburn hair, and a stack of books and papers clutched to her heaving chest. Delicious .
    “Good morning, my lord, ladies,” she panted. “My apologies for being late. I was unavoidably detained.”
    “By whom?” Saint asked, leaving the sanctuary of the stairwell