Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

" N ow, Eliza, let us unravel the beauty of these verses together," Evelina encouraged, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm as she shared her passion for literature with the young Eliza.

After arriving on time, Evelina had gracefully commenced her lesson with Eliza in the grand study of Dunmore House. With a gentle demeanor and a wealth of knowledge, she took on the role of guiding the girl through the intricacies of literature and etiquette. It felt much like the days of educating her sisters once more.

She sat across from the little girl, a book open between them, delving into the world of poetry.

Eager to learn, Eliza leaned in attentively, absorbing every word Evelina spoke.

"I never quite knew these words could paint such vivid pictures in my mind," she breathed, her curiosity piqued. "Everything makes a lot more sense now. I had been struggling with the writer's meaning for a while. It was all too confusing."

Evelina laughed lightly and winked at the sweet girl. "Now this one is actually high above what is expected of you. I have to say, you surprise me. You are a remarkably intelligent young woman, Eliza."

"Miss Balfour, do you think I could write poetry like this someday?" Eliza asked, her eyes shining with hope.

Evelina's smile was warm and encouraging. "Of course. With dedication and a smart mind like yours, you can achieve anything you set your mind to."

She could feel a special bond forming between her and Eliza, transcending the roles of tutor and student. Their interactions during their lessons were quickly becoming more than just educational.

They were on their fourth lesson so far, and there were more moments of shared laughter, discovery, and understanding—and Evelina was glad for it. She adored the young girl and was glad to be the one to coax her out of her shell.

As the sun began its descent, casting a warm glow through the study's windows, Evelina realized the hours had slipped away and it was time for her to depart.

She turned to Eliza, a hint of reluctance in her gaze. "I must bid you farewell for today, dear Eliza. But worry not, for tomorrow we shall continue our adventures in literature," she spoke softly.

Eliza's face fell slightly, yet another sign of their growing bond. "Must you go so soon, Miss Balfour? I wish you could stay longer," she complained, her words filled with longing.

"Oh," Evelina murmured as she placed a gentle hand on Eliza's shoulder, her eyes reflecting the affection she held for the young girl. "I promise to do my best to arrive a bit earlier tomorrow. That way, we can have more time together." She gave her a warm smile. "Will that do?"

She let out a sigh of relief at the spark of joy in the girl's eyes as she nodded in response. After reassuring her one more time, she left the study.

Evelina's footsteps echoed softly in the grand hallway as she made her way towards the front door, her eyes darting around her surroundings. The place was large, beautiful, and very different from her home.

Her gaze traced the grandeur as she walked, and she began to notice a pattern.

The paintings were… odd.

As the thought sank in, one painting in particular caught her attention, stopping her in her tracks.

It stood out, not for its grandeur or opulence, but for its haunting beauty and unconventional style.

The painting depicted a solitary figure shrouded in shadows, their face obscured by darkness. The colors were muted, giving the impression of a faded memory or a long-forgotten dream.

Evelina felt drawn to it, as if an invisible thread connected her to the melancholy portrayed on the canvas.

As she stood before it, her thoughts swirled with a mix of curiosity and unease. The figure in the painting seemed to exude a sense of profound sadness and longing, emotions that resonated deeply within her heart.

She reached out a trembling hand, her fingertips grazing the surface of the painting as if seeking to bridge the gap between reality and the ethereal world captured within the frame.

Mesmerized by the poignant beauty, she fell deeper into its depths, losing track of time, completely enveloped by the melancholic aura of the artwork before her.

Her heart stuttered as she came to a realization. Most of the artwork in Dunmore House was like this—beautiful and depressing, just like the master of the house himself.

His dark brooding presence, chiseled frame, perfectly sculpted face…

Evelina's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she realized the direction her thoughts were taking. She let out a sigh.

Despite the Duke's vexing demeanor, she couldn't deny his allure. It was akin to a captivating masterpiece that demanded attention. No one could deny it.

Her thoughts shifted, and a frown creased her face as she thought about his daughter. What was the impact of such solemn art on Eliza?

She couldn't shake the thought that the environment, filled with these somber paintings, might be what was, in fact, affecting the young girl's spirit, contributing to her reserved and introverted nature.

The idea of suggesting a shift towards more vibrant and stimulating art to uplift Eliza's spirits filled her mind. Another forlorn sigh escaped her lips as she deliberated on whether to broach the subject with the Duke.

"And what do you think you are doing?"

Evelina froze as a low, familiar voice cut through the silence, shattering her reverie and sending a jolt of surprise through her, pulling her abruptly from her thoughts.

She slowly turned around to meet the Duke's gaze, only to find a mix of confusion and suspicion clouding his features as his eyes lingered on the hand resting on the artwork.

Her eyes shifted to her hand in embarrassment as well, and she quickly withdrew it, clearing her throat awkwardly to ease the tension.

However, when her gaze returned to his, she was met with only deepening suspicion, and she felt a surge of irritation and indignation overtake her.

With a forced curtsy, she greeted him formally. "Your Grace, I'm done with today's lesson."

"Do tell me, Miss Balfour, is touching what does not belong to one a part of the many things you intend to teach my daughter?"

The Duke's raised eyebrow indicated his disregard for her words. His accusatory tone and insinuation stung, causing a deep blush to spread across Evelina's cheeks, her frown deepening in response.

The weight of his scrutiny, amplified by those unfeeling, piercing green eyes of his, pressed down upon her, challenging her. However, despite feeling like she could melt under his gaze, she steeled her resolve, refusing to cower.

She stood taller, meeting his eyes with fierce determination as she explained, "I was merely inspecting the artwork, Your Grace. I apologize if I overstepped."

Her boldness surprised even herself. It had been wrong of her to touch the man's property, yes. However, she would not let him capitalize on this to besmirch her good name.

He opened his mouth to respond, but she pushed forward before he could. Her brow furrowed as she spoke, "The art is… truly remarkable, unlike anything I've seen before."

The hall was silent, and the Duke's eyes narrowed, inspecting her closely. Then he advanced towards her, his imposing figure casting a shadow on the dimly lit hallway.

Evelina's heart raced with an excitement she couldn't quite fathom as the man got closer. She tried to ignore the emotions stirring within her, her focus now solely on his proximity.

Coming to a halt only a few feet away, the Duke, now standing beside the grand painting as she was, wore a smug smile as he remarked, "Our backgrounds are quite distinct. One wouldn't expect you to have had the privilege of familiarizing yourself with such intellectually stimulating artwork."

At his condescending tone, Evelina turned her head to face him directly, his arrogance pushing her anger to its peak.

The audacity of his continuous insults left her seething, a tempest of emotions swirling within her. He clearly thought he was above everyone else. She felt a surge of defiance, a primal urge to challenge his haughty demeanor and cut him down to size.

"It seems you're mistaken. I certainly wasn't complimenting your taste in art, Your Grace."

As he struggled to compose himself, he opened his mouth again, clearly in an attempt to question her intentions.

However, with a regal air, she continued. "Your choice in paintings speaks volumes about your person and character, Your Grace. I merely observed what is evident."

Evelina knew well she should stop. It was so unlike her to act this way. Yet, she could not. It was an inexplicable feeling—she could not stop herself when with this man.

Gabriel's demeanor shifted, his gaze once again drawn to the unsettling painting before them, his irritation palpable. Without meeting her eyes, he warned curtly, "Mind your words, Miss Balfour."

Undeterred by his attempt to assert his authority, she stood her ground, her tone laced with defiance. "I digress, Your Grace, but surely even you must see the harm these paintings inflict on your daughter."

Her words, a subtle mix of concern and accusation, clearly were not what he had expected at all.

His eyes widened in shock. "Miss Balfour, you speak out of turn, questioning matters that do not concern you." His voice dripped with derision, his eyes ablaze with suppressed fury.

Evelina held his gaze unwaveringly, her voice cutting through the tense air again. "It's important I say it. These works bind one to a sort of suffering within these walls, and young Eliza can certainly not be spared from the toxicity."

"They are mere artworks, Miss Balfour." He shook his head and scoffed loudly in disbelief. "Only the heavens could explain how you've come to the conclusion that these pieces result in ‘suffering'—"

Not giving him a moment to properly arrange his line of defense, Evelina attacked again. "Would you say then that you did not choose them exactly for their unconventional, haunting appearance?"

"I say that what I do, as a duke in his own residence, has nothing to do with a strange, overly bold spinster who happens to come by only for the purpose of offering her services."

Evelina only scoffed in the face of it all, making him furrow his brow in further anger and shock.

"You're clearly avoiding the obvious truth, Your Grace. Bringing up my unmarried status will not change the fact that even I, an overly bold childless spinster, can understand your daughter's needs better than you do."

Clearly unaccustomed to such confrontation, Gabriel struggled to maintain his composure. "You dare accuse me of neglect, Miss Balfour? You, a stranger, who knows nothing of the burdens I carry?"

"Your Grace, your arrogance and self-conceit blind you to your daughter's pain." Evelina shook her head, her anger rising at his insistence to defend his obviously poor decision. "Is this the legacy you truly wish to leave? Is this all you truly wish to imprint on your daughter?"

"You have truly forgotten yourself, Miss Balfour. Such impertinence will certainly not be tolerated!"

His booming voice echoed through the hall, sending a jolt through her, even seeming to rattle the windows.

Silence fell over them as they stared at each other intensely, their breaths hot and heavy following the Duke's outburst.

Evelina instinctively let out a small gasp, and her heart pounded in her chest as he suddenly closed the distance between them, his imposing figure sending a shiver down her spine.

In the dimly candle-lit hall, his proximity only added to her unease, his hot breath tickling her face, a physical manifestation of the tension that still crackled in the air.

Her blood hummed in her veins, but she was frozen in place. She felt the intensity of his gaze, his words slow, dripping with authority and finality.

"My paintings are fine as they are and shall remain there." His glare was a warning not to utter a response. "And that is the end of this measly discussion."

Despite her rising anxiety, Evelina held her ground, meeting his glare with defiance. Yet, she couldn't form any words because of his proximity. All she could do was stand there and watch this beast of a man looking back at her.

Finally, the Duke stepped back, seemingly satisfied by her lack of response. His eyes lingered on her for a moment before he delivered a condescending remark.

"It is late. One would expect you to be aware that it is unbecoming of a woman of your standing to be out at such hours."

The weight of his disapproval and judgment hung heavy in the air, and Evelina's frustration simmered beneath the surface as she struggled to come up with a less aggressive response. She felt nearly lethargic in the aftermath of such an argument. She couldn't recognize herself at this point.

Suddenly, the Duke turned on his heel, his parting words laced with a veiled threat. "Remember, Miss Balfour, do not overstep your boundaries once again. After all, you wouldn't want to be mistaken for a common thief."

Left alone at last, Evelina released the breath she had been holding, a mix of relief and exasperation flooding her senses.

She watched the man's retreating figure, his long strides taking him far from her in seconds, and she couldn't help but mutter under her breath, protesting his high-handedness.

"Arrogant, insufferable, terrible, terrible man."