“I’m not offering any. We’re family. If Evie needs an escort, let her send word to me and I’ll provide it.” Ewan turned to her. “Truly, Evie. You’re welcome to join—”
“She’s my sister.” Desmond was now out of his chair and rounding the table toward him, hands curled into fists at his sides. “I’ll take care of her. Do you think I’d ever trust her in your care? You who wish to disgrace us in the eyes of our grandfather?”
Ewan hadn’t expected it to be easy, so he was prepared for his cousin’s accusations. “I know it will take time to heal our family.”
“Time?” He shook his head and let out a sad laugh. “It will never happen.”
Ewan rose to face him, trying not to wince at how truly pathetic Desmond looked with that stark white bandage across his nose and the deep purple and yellow bruises under his eyes. “It will. I don’t blame you for doubting me. My father ought to have stepped in after your own father died, but he didn’t. He allowed the old man to take you in, knowing all the while the damage he might cause. I know what that old bastard has done to you and I’m trying to fix it. Give me the chance.”
“There’s nothing to fix.” Desmond’s hands were still balled into fists, but his tone was strained and revealed his desperation despite his best efforts to maintain that angry facade.
Ewan’s heart twisted into knots. His cousins were suffering, yet too proud to admit it. Not that he blamed them. Were he in their position, the sky could have collapsed on his head and he wouldn’t have uttered a word. “Evie, I’m at your service whenever you need it. Have you made arrangements to attend Lady Dayne’s dinner party? I know you were on the guest list.”
“I won’t be going.” She nibbled her lip. “I’ll send word to Eloise right now.”
“Don’t. Come with us. Please.” Ewan wondered if she had a proper gown to wear, but he didn’t have the heart to ask. The mere question would have utterly destroyed her. In any event, she’d been fashionably dressed in their prior encounters. Clothes weren’t the problem. Their grandfather and his cruel manipulations were. “Don’t let Grandfather win, Evie. Meggie and I will come round at seven to pick you up.”
Desmond glanced at his sister, his jaw in a spasm as he sought to contain himself, but his love for Evie was obvious. He didn’t wish to deprive her of anything, and they both knew Evie wanted to go to the party. “Go with him, Evie. I don’t give a damn. I’ll be here for you when you come home in tears.”
***
The ride to Eloise’s was an unexpected torture for Ewan. He’d done the right thing in bringing his cousin along, but hadn’t expected the flood of tears from Meggie and Evangeline the moment the two of them were settled in his carriage. Both girls were shy and sensitive, and though Meggie had overcome her fears recently, this unexpectedly poignant family reunion —if one could call it that—had set off her waterworks. Then Evangeline had started crying.
The only saving grace was that they were crying for... he wasn’t exactly sure what they were crying about, but they seemed pleased to be together and neither one was angry or tossing daggers at him. Progress.
He’d hired his own conveyance for the remainder of their stay in London, preferring to move about London independent of the duke. The old bastard could come and go as he pleased in his own glossy black carriage with the imposing Lotheil crest emblazoned on it. Ewan was not going to beg the old man for its use. He had no doubt the old man would have denied it to him once he learned Evangeline was to join them. That’s how the bastard operated. Control and separate. Dominate and scare.
They turned onto Chipping Way and slowed behind the row of carriages stacked up to let their guests off in front of the Dayne townhouse. Lily and her family lived next door. He looked forward to seeing her. She’d be a great help to him in calming the girls. Not that Lily was much more than a girl herself, but she had that adorably logical way of dealing with matters. He stifled a grin at the thought of her. It wouldn’t do for Meggie and Evie to realize just how badly he ached for Lily.
The thought of Lily also gave rise to unpleasant thoughts of Callie. Damn. Callie didn’t like competition, and Lily—whether the little bluestocking realized it or not—was competition in her eyes. Callie didn’t have Lily’s warmth or kindness. She’d bare her claws and scratch at Lily’s confidence until only shreds were left.
Ewan ran a hand through his hair, uncertain what to do. He couldn’t handle one girl. How was he to handle all four? No, if Callie was there, he’d have to stay close to her to keep her from causing mischief. Afterward, first thing tomorrow, he’d pay a call on Lily and apologize for any rudeness on his part or Callie’s. She’d understand once he explained.