Evelyn didn’t wonder. Goodness only knew what sorts of bizarre things Mrs. Quick had witnessed while employed by Uncle Harris. A late-in-the-day call by an Indian habit-maker was likely the least of her concerns.
“Forgive the interruption,” Mr. Malik said.
“You aren’t interrupting anything.” Evelyn’s attention fell to the box he was carrying. “Is that my new habit?” She moved toward him, excitement briefly overshadowing her anxiety. “I thought it required another fitting?”
“It does. This isn’t your habit. It’s something else.” He offered the box to her. “I can explain better once you’ve opened it.”
She set the box down on the sofa, flashing him an uncertain glance as she lifted the lid and parted the cloud of tissue paper within. What she found inside fairly took her breath away. “Oh,” she said softly. “Heavens.”
It was an evening dress. A stunning confection of flawless silvery-blue muslin. She carefully withdrew it from the box, marveling at the shimmering spill of the skirts and the daring cut of the bodice. A fall of artfully draped point appliqué lace adorned the delicate sleeves and the scandalously low décolletage.
She looked at Mr. Malik. He was watching her closely. “Did you make this?”
“I did,” he said. “Quite recently.”
“But not for me?”
“No. It wouldn’t suit you.”
She inwardly flinched. It was a fact, not an insult. The evening dress was made for a fairy princess of a woman. A lady who was slim and fragile—and who didn’t have auburn hair. Mr. Malik’s words nevertheless left Evelyn feeling vaguely unworthy. Just as she’d felt ever since leaving the park.
Seeing Stephen had bruised her confidence. And she needed her confidence now, more than ever.
“I expect not,” she said, managing a smile. “I have it on good authority that pale blue is not my color.”
Some of the tension left Mr. Malik’s face. “No, it isn’t. I envision you in something rather different.”
“You envision me in a ball gown?”
“I do,” he said. “One of mine.”
She hesitated for an instant, caught by the intensity in his obsidian eyes. This was important to him, that much was plain. Whatever this was. “I didn’t realize you made anything for ladies other than riding habits.”
“Not for society ladies, no. But I had planned to this season.” A shadow passed over his countenance. “That is, I had a commission from a titled lady. The dress you see here, and two others like it. She’s since decided she doesn’t want them.”
“I can’t imagine why. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.” Evelyn carefully folded the evening dress back into its box. “Did your dresses not suit her?”
“They suited her,” he said. “Too well.”
“Yet she refused them?”
“She’s a lady of many moods.”
Evelyn waited for him to elaborate, but he said nothing more. And there was more, she sensed it. Something had happened to make his expression so grave. To harden his jaw and cause his gaze to darken with intensity. As if the whole of his future hinged on this moment.
She gestured to the sofa. “Won’t you have a seat?”
Mr. Malik remained standing, only sitting down after she took a seat in the armchair across from him.
She arranged her skirts, privately wishing she’d worn one of her new dresses. That she’d pinched her cheeks and used a pad to fill out her hair. Instead, she was as plainly clothed and coiffed as the first day she’d met him.
If he noticed, he gave no indication. He was looking at her face as intently as when he’d entered the room.
She folded her hands in her lap. “As I say, it’s a very beautiful dress. But I don’t know why you’ve brought it to me.”
“Because,” he said, “I wanted you to see what I’m capable of.”
Her smile came easier this time. “I hope I already know. One need only look at the habit you made for me to appreciate your talent.” Wearing it had been magical. Momentous. Indeed, up until the moment she’d laid eyes on Stephen Connaught, she’d almost imagined she was one of the Pretty Horsebreakers. “You should have seen me in the park today. I do believe every gentleman I passed stopped and stared. Your habit was a great success.”
“I did see you,” he said.
She gave him a startled look. “You were there?”
“I was. And you were . . .” He frowned, shaking his head.
Her smile froze on her lips. She instantly regretted her boast, however feeble. “What?”
“You were dazzling.”
Heat infiltrated her veins, making her cheeks warm and her heartbeat quicken.
Dazzling.
No one in the world had ever described her so. Certainly not a handsome gentleman—one for whom she was growing rather too fond. Compliments in her life were rare enough as it was. But to receive such a compliment from him . . .
There was no disguising the effect it had on her. No pretending she was some sophisticated beauty who had heard it all before.
She exhaled an unsteady breath. “Do you really think so?”
“It’s not a matter of opinion. You eclipsed every other lady in the park. I wouldn’t be surprised if they wrote about your triumph in tomorrow’s paper.”
She tilted forward in her seat, fixing him with a hopeful gaze. “You’re not just saying that?”
He looked steadily back at her. “I never just say things, Miss Maltravers.”
“No. I don’t suppose you do.” Her smile broadened to a ridiculous degree. She felt the urge to laugh. “It was your habit that did the trick, you know. Your habit and my riding.” She sank back in her chair. “Oh, but I do feel vindicated when things go according to plan! Would that all of life could be arranged so happily.”
“Perhaps it can.”
“Yes, well . . . it all depends on the eligible gentlemen I meet. Today wasn’t a success in that regard, I’m afraid.” In truth, Evelyn privately admitted to a distinct feeling of disappointment. The masculine prospects on display in Rotten Row had been nothing to make a young lady’s heart beat faster.
Rather the reverse.
They’d left her cold and vaguely despairing, wondering what her future would be like as the wife of a mean-faced lord or an army captain with a gaggle of unruly children.
“But it was only my first foray,” she said bracingly. “I shall go back again tomorrow and the day after that. There’s bound to be a likely candidate at some point. And with the new habits you’re designing for me—”