Devil in Winter (Wallflowers #3)(57)

“Who is undoubtedly close kin of St. Vincent,” Daisy remarked grimly.

“The point is,” Annabelle continued, giving Daisy a swift warning glance, “now that it’s a fait accompli, we want to find out how we can best help you.”

Evie smiled gratefully. “All I need is your friendship. I was so afraid you might withdraw it.”

“Never.” Annabelle glanced over her and reached out to smooth her tumbled red curls. “Dear, I hope this doesn’t seem presumptuous…but since you left your family’s home in haste, I’m sure you weren’t able to take many gowns with you. So I’ve brought some things for you to wear. I know you’re in mourning, and so I’ve brought only the browns and black and grays, and of course some nightgowns and gloves and other things…I’ll have them sent in from the carriage, if you are agreeable. We’re nearly the same height, and I think with a few alterations—”

“Oh Annabelle,” Evie exclaimed, throwing her arms around her friend, “how kind you are! But I don’t want you to s-sacrifice any part of your wedding trousseau for my sake—”

“It’s no sacrifice,” Annabelle informed her, drawing back and smiling. “Before long, I won’t be able to wear them at all.”

Swiftly Evie recalled that the previous month, Annabelle had confided her suspicions that she might be pregnant. “Of course, I…oh, Annabelle, I’ve been so pr-preoccupied with my own problems that I hadn’t even thought to ask how you were feeling! Is it true, then? The doctor confirmed it?”

“Yes,” Daisy interrupted, standing up and doing a little victory dance, as if it were impossible for her to stay still any longer. “The wallflowers are going to be aunts!”

Evie jumped up as well, and they cavorted in childish glee, while Annabelle remained sitting and watched them with amusement. “Heavens, look at the pair of you,” she said. “I wish Lillian were here—no doubt she would have some pithy comment about your savage romping.”

The mention of Lillian was enough to dampen Evie’s elation. She dropped back onto the settee, staring at Annabelle with kindling worry. “Will she forgive me, for m-marrying St. Vincent after what he did to her?”

“Of course,” Annabelle said gently. “You know how loyal she is—she would forgive you anything short of murder. Perhaps not even barring that. But I’m afraid that forgiving St. Vincent is another matter entirely.”

Daisy frowned and tugged at her skirts to straighten them. “It is certain that St. Vincent has made an enemy of Lord Westcliff. Which makes things difficult for the rest of us.”

The conversation was interrupted as tea was brought in by a housemaid. Evie poured some of the delicate amber brew for herself and Annabelle. Daisy declined to have tea, preferring to wander about the room and browse among the shelves of books. She peered closely at the titles that had been engraved on the colored vellum spines. “There’s a layer of dust on most of these books,” she exclaimed. “One would think that they hadn’t been read in ages!”

Annabelle looked up from her tea with a droll smile. “I’ll wager that few, if any, have ever been read, dear. It’s not likely that the gentlemen who frequent this club would choose to occupy themselves with books when there are so many more stimulating pursuits available.”

“Why have a reading room, if no one ever reads in it?” Daisy said, sounding outraged. “I can’t imagine any activity that could be more stimulating than reading. Why, sometimes during a particularly engaging story, I can feel my heart racing!”

“There is one thing…” Annabelle murmured with an unladylike grin. The words were lost on Daisy, however, who drifted farther away along the rows of books. Glancing at Evie’s face, Annabelle kept her voice low as she said, “While we’re on that subject, Evie…it troubles me that you had no one to talk to before your wedding night. Was St. Vincent considerate of you?”

Evie felt her cheeks burn as she responded with a quick nod. “As one would expect, he was very accomplished.”

“But was he kind?”

“Yes…I think so.”

Annabelle smiled at her. “It’s an awkward subject, is it not?” she asked softly. “However, if there are any questions that you might have about such matters, I hope that you will bring yourself to ask me. I feel very much like your older sister, you know.”

“I feel that way too,” Evie returned, reaching out to squeeze her hand. “I suppose I do have a few things that I would like to ask, but they’re so terribly—”

“Zounds!” came Daisy’s exclamation from the other side of the room. They both looked up to see her tugging at one of the mahogany bookshelves. “When I leaned on this bookshelf, I heard a sort of clicking noise, and then the whole thing started to swing out.”

“It’s a secret door,” Evie explained. “There are several hidden doors and passageways in the club, for hiding things if there’s a police raid, or if one needs to leave in haste—”

“Where does this one lead to?”

Fearing that to explain any more would encourage the adventurous Daisy to go exploring, Evie murmured vaguely, “Oh, nowhere that you would wish to go. A storage room, I’m sure. You’d better close it, dear.”