Free Lady Eve's Indiscretion by Grace Burrowes Page B

out with Deene, which would have been remarkable enough.”
    He did not ask, for Louisa’s expression confirmed she was dying to shock him further.
    She took the remaining end of the bench. “We also know that when they came tooling back, there was Deene, reclining against the seat like the Caliph of Mayfair, and Evie handling the ribbons.”
    Evie. Handling. The ribbons… News, indeed. Westhaven rose and turned to glower at them. “You will not remark this to Eve, and you will not tattle to Their Graces.”
    â€œToo late.” Jenny looked worried now, and Louisa looked annoyed, which was her version of what others would call anxiety. “Mama came to the door to see us off on our perambulation, and she saw Evie driving Deene’s team too.”
    Bloody hell.
    â€œWe need to warn Evie,” Westhaven muttered. This was what came from making purely social calls on one’s parents, from heeding a wife’s gentle admonitions to spend more time with his siblings.
    Now the damned look was directed at him, and he knew very well what it meant. Jenny—ever anxious to be helpful—spelled it out for him anyway. “Yes, Brother, we do need to warn Evie.”
    He left them there on the bench, no doubt hatching up more awkwardness for him to deal with. When it suited his family, he was the heir , the duke-in-training, and therefore called upon to handle whatever odd business nobody else wanted to handle.
    He desperately hoped Their Graces lived to biblical ages to forestall the day when he graduated to the title altogether. While he was offering up a short prayer to that effect, he found Eve in the music room.
    â€œGreetings, Sister.” She was sitting at the piano, the instrument dwarfing her petite presence.
    â€œGayle!” She hurried off the bench and hugged him tightly.
    A man with five sisters did not dare admit to having favorites. He appreciated each of them for their various attributes: Maggie for her courage and brains; Sophie for her quiet competence and practicality; Louisa for her independence and well-hidden tender heart; Jenny for her determination and kindness.
    But Evie… Evie was just plain lovable. Where Jenny smiled and dragged him about by the arm, or Louisa called him a dolt, Evie hugged him and called him by his name.
    â€œWere you thinking to play an étude?” he asked, leading her to a settee against the wall.
    â€œI was thinking to have some privacy. Shall I ring for a tray?”
    â€œNo, thank you. As soon as His Grace catches wind of my presence, I’ll no doubt be sequestered in the ducal study with several trays, a decanter, and such a lengthy lecture on whatever damned bill is plaguing our sire at the moment that my appetite will desert me. You’re in good looks, Evie.”
    She was. Eve was an exquisite woman in a diminutive package, but today there was something a little rosier about her complexion, a little more animated in her bearing.
    â€œI got some air, which on a spring day is never a bad idea. How is Anna?”
    He was ever willing to expound on the topic of his countess, but he couldn’t let Eve prevaricate that easily.
    â€œYou were out driving with Deene.”
    Some of the life went out of her. “Are you going to castigate me for this? I know Lucas has a certain reputation among his fellows.”
    â€œEvery unmarried man of means at his age has a certain reputation among his fellows, whether it’s deserved or not.” Though she had a point—at least before his travels, Deene had been somewhat profligate in his appetites.
    Somewhat profligate? Was there such a thing?
    â€œHe can be decent company.” Eve didn’t seem to be defending the man so much as justifying her actions to herself.
    â€œHe has been a firm friend to this family, Evie. I do not raise the subject of your outing to criticize you in any way. I’m asking, rather, because I want to know what the man did