9 FLAWED

CHAPTER 9

The dress that Peggy had chosen for her was a loose-fitting sky-blue Regency gown. If Evelina had one thing to be grateful for, it was the fact that she wouldn't be wearing a heavily decorated dress to the Queen's.

Although the Scotswoman had much to say about the dress's fabric and simple detailing, Evelina did not pay any attention to this and wished that Peggy would be able to see how comfortable she felt in this dress and that this was the only thing that really mattered.

"I have a feeling that something is missing," Peggy said thoughtfully, and bundled her over to the vanity area.

"Oh, what now?" Evelina said, resisting the urge to sigh or hiss or whatever would make her point. She hated the idea of a visit to the royals, but there was no need for her to take it out on Peggy. The bubbly middle-aged woman was only there to do her job - and did it well.

Peggy studied Evelina's face in the large silver mirror for a few minutes, her tiny dove eyes narrowing and widening, then, as if an idea clicked, she snapped her fingers quickly. "We've got a problem with your hair. I should have known…"

"Know what?" Evelina's eyelashes fluttered quickly as the woman bent over and pulled a curling tong from one of the drawers. "That's hardly necessary. There's nothing wrong with my hair now," she cried in protest. She did not like having her hair done at all.

"You don't know that. These unstylish brown locks need a few curls to match your look. Allow me."

"Do I even have the choice to say no?"

"Well, the Countess is going to ask for a report on how I have dressed you, and that will include your hair as well."

Peggy went on to begin the work on her hair.

Evelina crossed her arms.

"By the time you're done, I'll look like a bairn," said Evelina.

"Not on my watch. You will only get prettier," Peggy said with a reassuring smile on her lips.

And in some way, Evelina felt she could trust her.

… It turned out that half an hour was a long time for Evelina to get dressed. Peggy, having proved herself to be efficient, managed to wrap up everything she had to do in twenty minutes.

"Surely you like your hair better now?"

Evelina knew she did but could not bring herself to say it. She could only manage a weak nod.

Peggy had swept the loose curls to the back of her head and pinned them in place with an open circle hair barrette. On either side of her temple, one or two strands of curly hair peeked out.

She realised how much the colour of her eyes stood out as she took one last look in the mirror.

"You have always looked so beautiful, my lady." Peggy said admiringly. And Evelina got to her feet and sauntered out of the door.

She stepped into the corridor. Her eyes flickered between the golden ceiling lights and the shiny floor as her mind worked.

She'd worked out her plan while Peggy was doing her hair. There was still a chance she could get out of this arrangement without having her name, as well as Violetta's marital future, sullied.

It was a matter of going to the 'horse' and getting him to see things the way she did.

Apart from the first time that Prince Laith had crossed her path and they'd shared a dance at some silly ball in London, this would be her first opportunity to talk to him. So, she was going to 'take advantage of it,' as her father had put it.

She made a couple of turns in the long, winding corridor, and just as she was about to head for the stairs, she saw the door.

Under normal circumstances, the ajar door to her father's study would not have bothered Evelina. But now, at the sound of something shattering on the ground, her instincts compelled her to do some investigating. Intent on snooping, she tiptoed over to the door.

"This is the worst way to deal with problems. How many times do I have to say it, Huxley?" said Breanna with a frown.

Evelina watched as her father ran a hand through his thick chestnut hair. Then he turned to the Countess with eyes that could kill. "You can say that. You can act so relaxed when you don't have a clue about what it all means, about the gravity of it all."

"Why not get me involved instead of taking it all out on a glass of Scotch?" Breanna said quietly.

But this only seemed to infuriate the Earl further.

"I can break as many bottles as I like. So deal with it."

"Or I won't," Breanna challenged. Her voice was as calm as water. "I won't, and before I leave your life, I'll tell your daughters what kind of man you really are."

"Separation is not as common as you think in many households. Admittedly, I am a flawed man, but everything I do is for you and the girls."

Breanna's mood seemed to be completely affected by this. Biting her lips, she said, "You did it again, didn't you?"

When the Earl's silence went on for too long, Breanna threw a book at him and its thick cover hit him in the face.

Evelina wanted to rush into the room to protect her father from her mother's temper, but stopped when she heard her mother's words.

"You're such a bastard, Cornelius. A bastard for not protecting your title, our children, our lives. Why do you keep doing this to us? How much longer do I have to cover up your excesses? Gah!"

Breanna finished with a scowl on her face.

Hide what? Evelina could only rack her brain to find out. What crime had her father committed? He had always been an upright man.

"I don't care how big your offence is this time, but I won't cover for you," said the Countess determinedly.

"But you can't..." The Earl stepped across the floor to make physical contact with his wife. He dropped to one knee and held her slender waist. "You can't be like this, please. It was just this one time. And I... Look, we can get out of this if Evelina can just cement her marriage to the prince. So please do your best?"

Breanna shook her head in disgust. "The royal carriage should be waiting downstairs."

…

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