Thirty-Two
Evelyn’s arms fell from Ahmad’s neck. She would have stepped away from him, but he made that impossible. He kept one hand firmly around her waist. A sign of his support and protection.
She appreciated it, but she didn’t need it. She wasn’t afraid of Viscountess Heatherton. “Lady Heatherton,” she said. “Is there something we can do for you?”
It was a cool question, under the circumstances, delivered with creditable calm. Evelyn was rather proud of herself.
But Lady Heatherton didn’t even seem to hear her.
Her gaze was fixed on Ahmad, her coldly beautiful face half-shadowed in the light of the lamp that dangled from the branches above. A cerulean silk evening gown, trimmed with acres of lace and satin piping, hugged her slight curves. “So much for refusing to dally with your customers,” she said. “I thought you lacking in scruples in your personal life, but it seems even your business principles are writ on water.”
Evelyn gave Ahmad an uncertain look. His jaw was set, and banked flames burned in his eyes. Not flames of passion, but of rage.
Good gracious. He knew her.
And suddenly Lady Heatherton’s visit to Russell Square made sense. All those questions about Ahmad she’d asked, and the warning she’d issued.
“You’ve mistaken the situation,” Ahmad said. “A common failing of yours.”
Lady Heatherton’s eyes flashed. “Our situation? Or this situation? You and your little Sussex horsewoman?”
“That’s enough,” he said.
“What’s the matter, darling? Don’t want to provoke a scandal?” Lady Heatherton laughed. “That ship sailed the minute the pair of you left the pavilion.”
“Did you follow us here?” Evelyn asked.
Lady Heatherton flicked her a glance. “Don’t be absurd.”
“Then how did you—”
“You’re not the only one of Lady Blackstone’s guests having a stroll on the avenue. There are plenty of others here, too.” Lady Heatherton shot her another acid look. “Best hurry back to your chaperone before your reputation is ruined beyond repair.”
Ahmad’s hand tightened on Evelyn’s waist. “She’s not going anywhere.”
“I told you,” Evelyn said to Lady Heatherton. “My reputation is in good order.”
“Not for long, my dear. As for your reputation—” Lady Heatherton turned on Ahmad. “How dare you give my evening gown to that odious gray-haired creature?”
“I beg your pardon,” Evelyn said.
“It wasn’t your gown,” Ahmad said at the same time. “You returned it.”
Evelyn’s indignation on Stella’s behalf dissipated as understanding set in.
So, this was what had prompted Ahmad to come to Russell Square that evening, asking if Evelyn would agree to a partnership. He’d lost Lady Heatherton as his customer and needed another lady to wear his gowns in her place.
Evelyn supposed she should be grateful to Lady Heatherton for withdrawing her custom. If she hadn’t, Ahmad would never have come. But Evelyn didn’t feel particularly grateful at the moment.
A burgeoning anxiety was building within her. She’d been caught with a man in the gardens, unchaperoned, on a dark walk. If word got out . . .
And it would.
Lady Heatherton would never be persuaded to keep her silence.
Evelyn’s throat closed with frustration. All this time spent worrying over whether Fenny’s presence would harm her, and here Evelyn was, fully responsible for her own ruination.
“We should go back to the pavilion,” she said softly.
“Yes. We should.” Taking her hand, Ahmad guided her around Lady Heatherton in the direction of the main avenue. They’d gone no more than a few steps when Lady Arundell appeared, blocking their way.
She wasn’t alone.
Anne was with her, and so were Stella and Julia.
Evelyn’s heart plummeted. Good lord. Had everyone followed after them?
Her three friends ran ahead to meet her.
“I tried to stop her,” Anne said under her breath.
“She insisted on coming,” Stella whispered.
Julia added, “Your uncle nearly did, too.”
Evelyn winced. Uncle Harris knew about this?
“Miss Maltravers.” Lady Arundell’s tone was so frosty and authoritative it made Evelyn’s pulse jump. “Lady Heatherton. And you, sir?”
“This is Mr. Malik, ma’am,” Evelyn said.
Lady Arundell didn’t seem interested in his name. “Watching the fireworks, were you? They are, indeed, better the further one gets from the pagoda. All this darkness, I expect.”
Lady Heatherton cast a withering glance at Stella’s ice-blue gown before turning her wrath on Lady Arundell. “They weren’t watching fireworks. If I hadn’t arrived when I did—”
“Nonsense. Miss Maltravers is a sensible girl.” Lady Arundell advanced on Lady Heatherton. “I’m more concerned with you, Mildred. Your husband wouldn’t like to hear you’ve been wandering the dark walks alone. Pray he doesn’t learn of it.”
Lady Heatherton’s eyes narrowed. “Are you threatening me?”
“I’m reminding you,” Lady Arundell said. “Gossip works both ways. I’ll not see a girl in my charge ruined because you failed to hold your tongue.”
The two of them stood facing each other for an interminable moment. If Lady Heatherton was an elegant cobra, then Lady Arundell was a mongoose in black mourning silk. She not only outranked her opponent, she outmatched her in terms of size and aggression. Indeed, in that instant, she seemed quite fierce.
A proud smile edged Anne’s mouth.
“Your charge is in no danger from me,” Lady Heatherton said at last. “I have no quarrel with her.”
“I’m delighted to hear it.” Lady Arundell gestured to the end of the path. “I bid you good evening.”
Lady Heatherton’s expression tightened. Casting one last cold look in Ahmad’s direction, she stalked away.
Only when she was gone did Evelyn take a breath. It was the briefest respite before Lady Arundell turned on her.
“I’m disappointed in you, Miss Maltravers. Don’t you realize what people will think? And you, poised to make something of yourself in society!”
“It’s my fault,” Ahmad said.