Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

" M y dear Miss Balfour, how wonderful to see you again!" Lady Worthington's familiar voice drew Evelina's attention. The elderly matron approached, her ample form swathed in rich burgundy velvet.

Evelina curtsied, a warm smile gracing her features. "Lady Worthington, it is a pleasure. I trust you are well?"

"Oh, quite well, my dear. And how is your family? I see young Margaret has made her debut, at last. She looks absolutely charming."

Evelina stood at the edge of the ballroom, her watchful gaze never straying far from her younger sister.

Margaret was a vision in pale blue silk, her lovely curls adorned with delicate white flowers. Evelina's heart swelled with pride as she observed her sister's graceful movements and polite smiles. All those hours of instruction had not been in vain.

"You are too kind, My Lady. We are all in good health, thank you." Evelina's smile faltered slightly as she thought of her father's latest gambling losses, but she quickly composed herself.

Lady Worthington leaned in conspiratorially. "I must say, Evelina, you have done a remarkable job with your sisters. It's no small feat to raise four young ladies, especially given your… circumstances." Sympathy flickered in her eyes.

Evelina's spine stiffened imperceptibly. "You are most gracious, Lady Worthington. My sisters are my joy, and it is my privilege to guide them."

As Lady Worthington opened her mouth to reply, Evelina jolted slightly at the feel of feathers tickling her face. She turned to see the culprit, only to find herself face-to-face with the Countess of Claymont.

"Evelina! How delightful to see you!" Clara Jones exclaimed, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "I do hope you're enjoying the ball."

Evelina curtsied, her smile genuine. Despite her eccentricities, the Countess of Claymont had always been kind to the Balfour sisters.

"Indeed I am, Lady Claymont. It is a splendid affair."

Clara's expression softened. "My dear, I must apologize for my nephew's boorish behavior the other day. Gabriel can be rather… abrupt at times, but I assure you, he has a good heart beneath that stern exterior."

Evelina's cheeks flushed at the memory of her encounter with the Duke. "There is no need for apologies, My Lady. His Grace was… quite clear in his expectations."

Clara opened her mouth to reply, but her words were lost in a sudden hush that fell over the ballroom. Evelina turned, her heart skipping a beat as she saw the cause of the commotion.

The Duke of Dunmore had arrived.

Gabriel Jones cut an imposing figure as he strode into the room, his broad shoulders encased in a perfectly tailored black evening coat. His cravat was impeccably tied, and his dark hair was styled in a fashionable yet understated manner. As he made his way through the crowd, people parted before him like water around a ship's prow.

Evelina found herself unable to look away, even as she silently chastised herself for her fascination with him. The Duke was infuriating, arrogant, and entirely too sure of himself.

She had no business admiring the way his green eyes seemed to catch the light of the chandeliers, or how his strong jaw gave him an air of unwavering determination.

"Well, well," Clara murmured beside her, "it seems my nephew has decided to grace us with his presence, after all. How… unexpected."

Evelina tore her gaze away from the Duke, focusing instead on her sister. Margaret was now engaged in conversation with a young gentleman, her cheeks flushed with pleasure.

Good. At least one of them was enjoying the evening.

As the night wore on, Evelina found herself constantly aware of the Duke's presence. He moved through the crowd with easy grace, exchanging pleasantries with various members of the ton. Yet, she could not shake the feeling that his eyes often strayed in her direction.

"Ridiculous," she muttered to herself. "You're imagining things, Evelina."

"I beg your pardon, Miss Balfour?" Lady Ashworth, another of the ton's respected matrons, looked at her quizzically.

Evelina's cheeks flamed. "Oh! Forgive me, Lady Ashworth. I was merely… thinking aloud about the lovely music."

Lady Ashworth nodded, though her expression remained skeptical. "Indeed. As I was saying, your sister Margaret is a credit to you. So poised, so well-mannered. Why, if I didn't know better, I'd think she'd been raised by a duchess rather than…" she trailed off, clearly realizing she'd overstepped.

Evelina forced a smile. "You are too kind, My Lady. Margaret has always been a quick study."

As Lady Ashworth fumbled for a response, Evelina felt a prickle of awareness at the back of her neck. She turned around, her breath catching in her throat as she found herself looking directly into the intense eyes of the Duke of Dunmore.

He stood mere feet away, his gaze fixed on her with an intensity that made her pulse quicken. For a moment, neither moved. Then, with deliberate steps, he closed the distance between them.

"Miss Balfour," he said, his deep voice sending an involuntary shiver down her spine. "Might I have the honor of this dance?"

Evelina's mind raced. To refuse would be a terrible insult, but to accept… She glanced at Margaret, who was watching the exchange with wide-eyed curiosity.

"Your Grace," Evelina replied, dipping into a curtsy. "I would be honored."

As the Duke led her onto the dance floor, Evelina was acutely aware of the eyes on them. Her ears picked up the conversation between the women she left behind as she walked away slowly.

"Well, I never! The Duke, dancing with our dear Evie?" Lady Worthington's voice was barely above a whisper as she addressed Lady Ashworth. "What could have prompted such an unusual pairing?"

Lady Ashworth's voice was tinged with interest. "Perhaps he's finally decided to take a wife. Though I must say, Miss Balfour seems an… unconventional choice for a man of his station."

"Unconventional, indeed," Lady Worthington agreed. "But then, the Duke has always been something of an enigma. This is the most excitement we've had at a ball in ages!"

It was all expected. The ton thrived on gossip, and the sight of the reclusive Duke of Dunmore dancing with Miss Balfour, a quasi-spinster, would surely set tongues wagging.

On the dance floor, Evelina tried to focus on the steps of the lively country dance but found herself increasingly distracted by the Duke's presence. Each time they came together, his hand on her waist, she felt a jolt of awareness that both thrilled and unsettled her.

"I must say, Miss Balfour," the Duke began as they circled each other, "your sister Margaret is a credit to you. She conducts herself with remarkable poise for one so young."

Evelina's eyes narrowed slightly. "You seem to have taken quite an interest in my family, Your Grace."

A ghost of a smile played at the corners of his mouth. "Merely an observation, I assure you. My aunt has spoken highly of your abilities as a tutor. She tells me you've educated all of your sisters?"

"Indeed," Evelina replied, her tone cooling. "Though I'm sure Lady Claymont exaggerates my modest efforts."

They came together again, his hand on her waist, hers on his shoulder. The Duke's eyes bored into hers as he spoke. "I think not, Miss Balfour. Your reputation is quite pristine. Save, of course, for the matter of your… unmarried state."

Evelina stiffened, missing a step in her indignation. The Duke smoothly corrected their movement, his grip on her waist tightening almost imperceptibly.

"I was unaware that my marital status was a matter of such fascination, Your Grace," she said, her voice low and tight with anger.

Gabriel's expression remained impassive, but Evelina could have sworn she saw a flicker of amusement in his eyes. "Come now, Miss Balfour. Surely you're aware that a woman of your age and position is something of an… anomaly in Society."

As they parted again, Evelina fought to keep her composure. "Perhaps, Your Grace, I simply have higher standards than to marry the first man who deigns to propose marriage."

This time, there was no mistaking the spark of interest in Gabriel's eyes. "Is that so? How… intriguing. And, pray tell, Miss Balfour, what sort of man might meet your lofty standards?"

Evelina's cheeks flushed, but she held her ground. "A gentleman of intelligence and integrity, Your Grace. One who values a woman for her mind as well as her appearance."

"A rare creature, indeed," Gabriel murmured. "And here I thought all young ladies dreamed only of titles and fortune."

"You do us a great disservice, Your Grace," Evelina retorted. "There are many women who seek more than status in marriage."

Gabriel's eyebrow arched. "And you count yourself among their number, I presume?"

"I do," Evelina affirmed. "Though I fail to see how my aspirations are any concern of yours, Your Grace."

"I usually find no interest in people, yet you…" A low chuckle escaped the Duke's lips. "Miss Balfour, you are full of surprises."

As they continued to dance, the other guests couldn't help but notice the intensity of their interaction. Lady Worthington fanned herself vigorously, her eyes never leaving the pair.

"Did you see that?" she whispered to Lady Ashworth. "I do believe Miss Balfour just said something that made the Duke laugh! When was the last time anyone saw him so… engaged?"

Lady Ashworth shook her head in wonder. "Not since before his wife passed, I'd wager. This is most unusual, indeed."

Evelina tried to ignore the rather loud voices of the women behind her.

"You still haven't explained your sudden interest in my family, Your Grace," she pressed. "I find it hard to believe that my sisters' accomplishments are truly so fascinating to a man of your standing."

Gabriel's eyes glinted with amusement. "Perhaps I simply enjoy a good mystery, Miss Balfour. And you, I must say, are quite the enigma."

Evelina furrowed her brow. "I assure you, Your Grace, there is nothing mysterious about me. I am exactly as I appear."

"And that," Gabriel said softly, "is what intrigues me the most. In a world of masks and pretense, your honesty is… refreshing."

Evelina faltered, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. For a moment, she saw past the Duke's stern exterior to the man beneath—a man who, perhaps, was not as cold and unfeeling as he appeared.

The music swelled, and Gabriel spun her expertly, breaking the spell. As they came back together, his expression had returned to its usual impassivity.

"Miss Balfour, I have come to a decision," he announced, his voice low and serious.

Evelina's eyes widened in shock. Surely he wasn't…

"I've thought long and hard about my interview with you, as well as the unpleasantness that followed it. But since I received your letter, I've started to reconsider. My aunt strongly recommends you, and given my satisfaction with your skills and experience, I must say you're the perfect tutor for my daughter, Eliza. I'd love it if you gave it some thought, and I hope this incident does not influence your response to my offer."

Relief washed over Evelina, quickly followed by confusion. "I… I'm not sure what to say, Your Grace."

Gabriel's lips curled into a smile that was equal parts charming and predatory. "Say yes, Miss Balfour. Though I warn you, I will be keeping a very close eye on your progress with my daughter."

Evelina bristled at his tone. "Do you doubt my abilities, Your Grace?"

"Not at all," he replied smoothly. "I simply take a keen interest in my daughter's education. You'll find I can be quite… involved when it comes to Eliza's welfare."

"I see," Evelina said, her voice cool. "And what, precisely, would my duties include?"

Gabriel's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Eager to negotiate terms already, Miss Balfour? I admire your practicality. We can discuss the details at length tomorrow, should you accept."

"Tomorrow?" Evelina echoed, startled.

"Indeed." Gabriel nodded. "I see no reason to delay. Unless, of course, you have other pressing engagements?"

Evelina opened her mouth to protest, then closed it again. She could hardly tell him that her only plans for the morrow involved mending Margaret's old gowns.

The music was drawing to a close, and Evelina knew she only had moments to make her decision. Every fiber of her being wanted to refuse, to tell this arrogant man exactly what he could do with his offer. Even though she knew she couldn't do it.

But then, as they made their final turn, Evelina's gaze fell on Margaret. Her sister was radiant, but Evelina's trained eye caught the telltale signs of wear on her gown.

The tiny stitches at the hem where she'd repaired a tear, the slightly faded color of the fabric that had been carefully cleaned and pressed too many times.

At that moment, Evelina knew she had no choice.

As the final notes of the music faded, she met the Duke's gaze. "Very well, Your Grace. I accept your offer."

Gabriel's eyebrows rose slightly as if he'd expected more resistance. "Excellent. Be at Dunmore House tomorrow morning at nine o'clock sharp. We'll discuss your tasks in more detail then." With a curt nod, he released her hand and stepped back. "Good evening, Miss Balfour."

Evelina watched as he strode away, her emotions a tumultuous mix of anticipation and dread. What had she just agreed to?

As she made her way back to Margaret's side, Clara appeared before her, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"My dear," the Countess said, her voice low and excited, "what on earth did you and my nephew discuss that had him looking so… intrigued?"

Evelina opened her mouth to reply but found she had no words to explain the strange turn her evening had taken. How could she possibly convey the magnitude of what had just transpired?

Around them, the ballroom buzzed with excitement. Lady Worthington was practically vibrating with enthusiasm as she spoke to a group of matrons.

"Did you see?" she exclaimed. "The Duke of Dunmore, dancing with Miss Balfour! And not just a perfunctory turn about the room, mind you. They were engaged in quite an intense conversation. I haven't seen His Grace so animated in years!"

"Indeed, it was most unusual," another voice declared. "And did you notice how he sought her out specifically? Perhaps our reclusive Duke is finally ready to rejoin Society."

As more speculation swirled around her, Evelina felt a mix of embarrassment and amusement. If only they knew the true nature of her interaction with the Duke. How would they react if they learned she was to be employed as a tutor, rather than courted?

The night wore on, and as Evelina guided Margaret through the intricacies of her debut ball, her mind kept returning to the Duke's proposition. She had accepted it out of necessity, yes, but there was a part of her—a part she scarcely dared acknowledge—that was thrilled at the challenge.

Gabriel Jones might think he could intimidate her with his stern demeanor and piercing gaze, but Evelina Balfour was made of sterner stuff. If the Duke of Dunmore thought he could simply order her about like a servant, he was in for quite a surprise.

Tomorrow, she would enter the lion's den. Tomorrow, she would begin her new life as a tutor to the daughter of one of England's most powerful men.

Tomorrow, everything would change.