The lake shimmered beneath the afternoon sun, a still mirror framed by tall pines. Evelina stood close to the water's edge, her skirts brushing the grass. She plucked absently at a branch that drooped above her, determined to keep her eyes on anything but him.
Lucian broke the silence first. His tone was dry, almost playful. "Your horse is a traitor. The moment you urged yours ahead, mine all but dragged me after you."
Evelina turned, surprise flickering across her face before laughter slipped free. It was soft, unguarded, a sound that startled even herself. "Your lordship shows remarkable humility. To admit defeat to a lady's horsemanship borders on charming."
"Borders?" he echoed, feigning offense. The faint smile on his lips betrayed him.
Her eyes glinted with mischief. "Charm is dangerous currency, Lord Ravenscroft. Best not spend it freely. Someone might think you intend it."
He tilted his head, his voice dropping lower. "And if I did?"
The air between them tightened. Evelina shook her head quickly, as though to dispel the weight of his tone. "You make words sound heavier than swords."
"They are heavier," he said simply.
Her lips curved despite herself. "Then I should be wary of you. A man who wields both words and swords."
"Not both," he answered, his gaze holding steady. "Only where it matters."
Something in his voice unsettled her. She tried to laugh it away, but his reply lingered. To her surprise, he gave a soft laugh himself, rare and quiet. It startled her enough to say without thought, "I did not know you laughed, my lord."
"There is much you do not know of me," he replied.
Her brows rose. "And should I? You hardly seem the sort to open yourself for examination, like a book to be read."
"Perhaps not," he admitted. His expression softened, unreadable. "But to you, I would."
Evelina's breath caught. Before she could speak again, he stepped closer and said, "Lady Everleigh, call me Lucian. Just once. Leave the titles here by the water. Let me be a man, not a name."
She studied him. His eyes did not waver. At last, she allowed a faint smile. "Only if you will call me Evee. Just once."
The name passed his lips with surprising tenderness. "Evee."
Her cheeks warmed. She turned quickly to the lake, hoping the sunlight hid it. "Then we are even."
Silence fell, lighter than before but no less dangerous. Evelina knew she should not linger. The longer they stood together, the more the world outside would twist their presence into whispers.
"We should return," she said, her voice calm once more. "Too long here, and tongues will wag, no matter how hidden this lake may be."
Lucian inclined his head. His reluctance was plain, but he did not argue. "As you wish."
***
By the time he returned to Ravenscroft Estate, her image haunted him. Not the composed Lady Everleigh of court, but Evee who had laughed freely, who had let her eyes sparkle with mischief, who had spoken his name as if it were not burdened with rank.
Lucian.
The sound replayed in his chest. For a moment, they had not been a duke's heir and a marquess's daughter. They had been only a man and a woman by the water.
Then, as swiftly, she had reminded him of the world. The world must remain as it was. The truth shadowed him as he stepped into his study. The fire burned low. His guard stood waiting.
The man bowed. "My lord. News from the capital."
Lucian gestured for him to speak.
"Grand Duke Montclair grows bold. He hosts ministers at his table. He courts southern lords with gifts and promises. The Crown Prince grows watchful, but the balance tilts. Words will not hold much longer."
Lucian's jaw tightened. "And House Everleigh?"
"The Marquess remains cautious. Loyal to Montclair, yes, but not reckless. He shields his children, especially Lady Evelina. She is untouched by politics."
"As she should be," Lucian said.
The guard hesitated. "Yet whispers spread. Montclair's attentions toward Lady Evelina are less subtle. Some suggest he will bind her house more tightly, perhaps through marriage."
The words cut deep. Ravenscroft's expression did not betray him. His voice was quiet, steady. "Rumor is coin in court. Let them spend it. We will not act on shadows."
The guard bowed and withdrew, leaving him alone.
Lucian sat still in the glow of the fire. Her laughter echoed in memory. The warmth of her smile clashed with the cold certainty of Montclair's shadow.
She had said the world would remain as it was. He knew, with painful clarity, that his own could not.
***
The first light of dawn warmed Evelina's cheek. She stirred slowly, listening to the quiet rhythm of the house: footsteps on stairs, porcelain clattering softly, voices hushed. Ordinary sounds, an ordinary morning. Yet her heart felt anything but ordinary.
She turned onto her side, pulling the sheet close. The memory of yesterday refused to let her rest. The shimmer of the lake. The sound of his voice when he asked her to call him Lucian.
Her pulse fluttered. She had said yes. More than that, she had given something in return. Evee. No one called her sounded like that. It was hers alone, tucked away since childhood. Yet spoken by him, it had sounded different. Warm. Dangerous.
A knock at the door. Anna entered with her usual brisk cheer, carrying the brush. "Good morning, my lady."
Evelina hummed in reply, her face turned toward the window. She let Anna brush her hair in long strokes, each one tugging her closer to calm.
"You seem thoughtful this morning," Anna said.
"Do I?" Evelina forced a small smile. "Perhaps the heat. It was a restless night."
Not a lie, but not the truth. Restless, yes, but not from weather.
Anna studied her in the mirror but said nothing. Instead, she held up a gown. "The pale blue, my lady. It catches the light beautifully."
"Yes," Evelina answered softly. "The blue will do."
She would go down to breakfast, smile, and sit with her family as though nothing had shifted. No one would suspect. No one would know that the world within her had tilted toward something forbidden.
Her parents shielded her from storms of court. Yet what of storms she stepped into by choice?
She pressed her lips together, silencing the thought. She would appear unchanged. She would play her part. Only she would know the truth, that one word and one laugh had altered everything.
She descended the stairs, her gown falling in pale folds. Her face serene. Her mother always said appearance was armor. Evelina wore hers well.
The breakfast room smelled of tea and bread. Her sisters, Arabella and Clarissa, spoke softly at the table. Evelina's steps slowed as she saw another figure rise to greet her.
Grand Duke Montclair.
He bowed his head politely. "Lady Everleigh. Forgive my intrusion at such an hour. I had business in the city and thought I might take the liberty of calling."
Evelina's heart gave a muted thrum. Her mother gestured warmly for her to join them. Refusal was impossible.
She crossed the room with calm steps. Montclair himself pulled out her chair before taking his own. His voice carried gently across the table. "It has been a week since last we spoke. I regret my silence. Matters of state detained me. I hope you did not think me neglectful."
Evelina steadied her teacup. "I understand, Your Grace. The duties of your station allow little rest."
His smile deepened. His gaze lingered too long.
Arabella spoke then, laughter in her voice. She turned the talk to lighter matters, the garden fêtes, new fashions from abroad, trivial comforts. The air grew easier, but Evelina still felt Montclair's presence close beside her, like a question waiting.
She smiled when required. She answered when addressed. She played her part well. Yet her thoughts remained elsewhere, caught in the echo of a name spoken beside a quiet lake.
Lucian.
At last, Alistair rose to depart. Evelina excused herself too, claiming weariness. She bid him farewell with practiced courtesy. Only once alone in her chamber did her mask fall away.
She pressed her hands to her face. She should not think of yesterday. She should not replay his laughter, his words, the way light caught his eyes. But she did. She could not stop.
Her heart, against all reason, refused to obey.