Free All Men Are Rogues by Sari Robins Page B

anyway. Father owed it to her. And so did the British government, it seemed. A loud hiccup erupted from her throat. She shuddered as the last upswell of tears slowly diminished. She pressed her cracked lips to the cover of her father’s precious journal and kissed it, reverently. If Father were here he would be sketching out a plan of action. Strategizing his next move. Prepared to play .
    “I am only as powerful as I choose to be.” Her voice was barely more than a scratchy whisper.
    Laying her head back down on the damp cover, she closed her eyes, exhausted, and fell into the dreamless sleep of the half-dead.
     
     
    A hand pressed her shoulder, and Evelyn swatted it away.
    “ Dogmak , Arife .”
    She opened one of her swollen eyelids not more than a slit and noted Shah bending over her. As usual, the squat maid was dressed head to toe in severe black and wore a judgmental scowl on her dark face.
    Evelyn slowly sat up despite the fact that every muscle in her body screamed in protest. She rubbed her grainy eyes and licked her dry lips. Her mouth tasted like stale onions. “What time is it?”
    “Seven. The house is stirring, although the upstairs, they sleep on.” She helped Evelyn to her feet. “I come to check on you when I get up.”
    They walked over to the bed. With a sigh of relief, Evelyn slipped between the covers. She leaned wearily against the plush pillows and closed her eyes. Abruptly she sat up.
    “Father’s journal!”
    Shah held it in her hand and was wrapping it in a long, black cloth. “I have Sahip’s book. You rest. I will keep it safe.”
    Evelyn nodded, relieved. She lay back down and closed her eyes, praying that when she awoke things would be better. She was counting on it.

Chapter 8
     
    W ith the sunshine of a beautiful day to warm her spirits, Evelyn was glad she’d let Lady Fontaine convince her to attend the fair the next afternoon. And with little Miss Jane as her escort, a smile seemed permanently affixed to her lips. The child’s exuberance was infectious.
    “Ooh, Miss Evelyn, they have clowns,” Miss Jane squealed excitedly. “And their dogs are wearing skirts!” She pulled at her cousin’s hand and dragged her through the throng toward the green lawns, where the jokers were throwing colorful balls and the costumed dogs were chasing after them.
    Evelyn allowed herself to be pulled through the squawking vendors with their delicious-smelling smoked meat pies, buttery sweets and pastries until they stood on the edge of the crowd witnessing the spectacle.
    A face-painted entertainer wearing a red-and-purple sack tossed colored rings into the air. Little black-and-white spaniels barked and raced to snare the rings around their heads. The crowd of mostly children and governesses clapped and laughed with each of the little dogs’ triumphs.
    Evelyn opened her parasol to shade herself from the glare of the afternoon sun. All good things in moderation. There were few clouds drifting overhead and the sun bore into her black mourning gown, making sweat gather under her arms and down her back. Miss Jane clutched at her hand, and Evelyn’s heart swelled. With her broad-rimmed pink bonnet, matching muslin high-waisted gown and jersey half-boots, she was the picture of feminine youth.
    Miss Jane was so enraptured that she let go of Evelyn’s hand for the first time in an hour and deigned to sit on the grass in her new gown with the other children. Jane’s governess nodded to Evelyn, then sat down beside her charge. Evelyn sighed, enjoying the moment. Her earlier reservations about attending the fair had vanished, to be replaced by delight with the welcome diversion from her worries. No one could be melancholy while watching dogs frolic.
    A fresh breeze blew in, bringing with it the scents of candied apples and caramel. She scanned the crowd of upturned faces gleefully watching the entertainment. Presently, she looked over at the artist stalls, where fashionable men and women perused