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important you look your best.”
    Evelyn swallowed. She could wear silk or sackcloth and it would make no difference. She pictured herself walking through Charlotte’s ballroom, followed by a thousand whispers as she pretended not to notice the scornful way eyebrows climbed in horror at her presence, or how a hundred fans snapped open to hide mockery or pity or hatred as she passed.
    “I’ve decided not to attend Charlotte’s ball this year,” she said. “I can’t see why my being there will be of any importance one way or the other.”
    “You must come! People will think you have something to be ashamed of if you stay home!” Eloisa spluttered. “There are at least a dozen people who would stand by you.”
    Evelyn tilted her head. “A dozen? Out of Charlotte’s usual three hundred guests? Hardly encouraging, especially when six of them will be my own family.”
    “Well, better to have six people by your side than no one at all! But that’s why you need the protection of an influential lover, a gentleman with a title, a fortune, and a taste for notorious ladies.” Eloisa smiled. “I will put a word in Wilton’s ear. He is not without influence. Nor is Somerson, or even Frayne. They’re bound to know someone right for you.”
    Was it her imagination, or had Sam looked shocked for a fleeting instant? His expression was bland and unreadable now, and she frowned, wondering if she’d been mistaken. Why would he care?
    “Not Frayne!” Evelyn quipped in mock horror, and laid a dramatic hand on her heart.
    Sam’s eyebrows rose a fraction of an inch, and a muscle twitched in his jaw in appreciation, and Evelyn felt warmed by it.
    The Earl of Frayne was notorious for his scandalous affairs. It was no wonder Lucy had decided that what was good for the gander would suit her as well.
    And if there ever was a goose, it was Lucy.
    Eloisa didn’t laugh. “Oh, Evie, you must take this seriously! Come to the modiste with me tomorrow. We’ll use my name, and you can wear a veil. They can hardly refuse to serve you if I’m standing behind you. We’ll get Lucy and Charlotte to come with us. The four of us will make a formidable force against insult.”
    “I have a perfectly suitable gown upstairs,” Evelyn said.
    “What color is it?” Eloisa demanded.
    “Green,” Evelyn replied. She glanced at Sam, and his lips spread in a warm smile, as if he approved. Her heart leapt, and she pursed her lips. It didn’t matter one whit what he thought. “Or blue,” she said. His smile faded.
    “No one is wearing green or blue this year!” Eloisa cried. “You will stand out, no, you will stick out! Charlotte and Lucy will be horrified!”
    “Then I shall stay home.”
    “No! No, that won’t do either,” Eloisa said, reversing herself. “You will stick out all the more if you are absent from your own sister’s annual ball! It is one of the most important events of the Season.”
    Evelyn kept her expression flat, letting her sister know how little she cared.
    Eloisa wasn’t deterred. “I’ll make an appointment with my modiste for tomorrow anyway, and my shoemaker.” She stood up and pulled on her gloves. “I’ll come early, and we can take a turn through the park first. You look like you could do with some fresh air.”
    “Not the park!” Evelyn blurted before she could stop herself. Eloisa raised her eyebrows. “I hear it’s going to rain tomorrow. My cook’s elbow aches when the weather is about to change.”
    Eloisa sniffed. “Excuses. I suppose there’s a reason why you cannot visit the modiste either. A plague of locusts on Bond Street, perhaps, predicted by your butler’s bunions.” She turned to go. “I despair of you, Evelyn. I am going to consult with Charlotte, see which suitable gentlemen might be on her guest list.”
    “No one lower than a marquess, or perhaps a prince, if one of them is between mistresses,” Evelyn quipped, meaning to quell her sister. But Eloisa smiled. So did Sam. A