So, they began their meal in comfortable silence. Theodore was quiet beside her, scooping the soup and swallowing it with measured movement. She hated his composure. No, in fact, she completely and absolutely loathed it.
Eve couldn't even take a scoop without wondering if she was swallowing too loud.
"Pardon me for saying, Lady Whitmore. My eyes seem to be failing me much of late, but if I didn't know any better, I would have thought that you are afraid of Theodore beside you. Having been maimed in the army does not make him dangerous, dear."
At the duke's words, Everetta immediately choked on the spoonful of soup she had just swallowed.
Maimed? Did the man have to constantly bring up Theodore's lack of expressed masculinity?
Tears blurred her vision as she coughed out her lungs.
"Get her water," she heard the duke bark at one of the attending servants.
Then she felt a firm hand at her back, patting her none too gently. Her hands swayed out as she grappled to rise from the table, clutching any surface within reach. Her chair scraped along the polished floor as she pushed it back.
The waiter came just in the nick of time as she reached for the water greedily. The soothing hand remained at her back as she gulped down every drop in the goblet and dropped it on the table with a loud thud.
The burning sensation in her throat gradually calmed, and her vision slowly cleared. Her senses also returned, and the warmth of the hand at her back began seeping in through the thin lace fabric of her dress.
Was it him?
She was afraid to look, just in case it wasn't him.
But when she did, it was him.
She closed her eyes briefly - too long to be considered a blink - and opened them again. He was still there when she opened her eyes, much to her surprise.
For a moment, everything in the room faded, leaving her lost in those smoky eyes of his. Except there was nothing kind or gentle about those eyes.
Then his hand at her back fell away, and he returned to resume his meal as if nothing had happened.
Everetta realized that her palm was pressed against his knee and immediately withdrew it, as though it had scalded her.
"You gave Lady Whitmore quite a scare, Father. I suggest that you remain silent for the rest of the meal," Friedrich said, his tone gentle, as if placating a child.
The duke waved his hand in the air to dismiss the suggestion. "Oh, nonsense! What scare are you talking about? The girl merely choked."
Eve cast a glance at Friedrich, who was, in turn, scowling at his father.
"Very well, very well," the old man finally conceded.
The table fell into comfortable silence, as the only sounds that could be heard were the soft clinking of cutlery and glasses.
After the meal, the duke insisted that they all proceed to the drawing room for entertainment. Candace's mother had sent word that she was ill, so they were to carry on without her.
"Theo, why don't you entertain us with the piano? Be of service by playing these beautiful women something light and sweet."
Theo cast a wary glance at his father before settling down on the piano.
Eve helped herself to a flute of champagne, settling down on the cushion closest to the door as they all waited for him to begin.
True to his nature, he played something dark and somber, seeming to get lost in the music. Everetta recognized the piece easily, having played it a few times herself.
"The army turned you into a bore even," the duke muttered, a scowl on his face.
"Everetta can play the piano as well," Candace quickly volunteered, clasping her hands as she waited for the duke's response.
The duke turned to her, his eyes bright with surprise.
"That is a pleasant surprise, Lady Whitmore. Please alleviate poor Theo here from his suffering."
Everetta blushed from sheer timidity while Theo's hands froze on the keys.
She could see that Friedrich was struggling to give the father a stern glare but was sincerely failing at it.
"I'm not sure I should…" She began to protest, but Theodore had already risen up from the stool.
"Do I have to get on my knees, dear?" Turning to Theodore, he said, "Do fetch your ailing father his pipe."
For a brief moment, she and Theo exchanged glances, then he began to pack his sheets of music.
She walked over to where he stood wearily.
"You can leave them." Her voice was surprisingly calm and composed.
He paused, but only to glance up at her briefly.
"I don't have any 'light and sweet' music here."
His voice came across as cold and detached, but his eyes flashed with an emotion that disappeared all to quickly before she could put a name to it.
Baffled, she sank into the stool and drew in a heavy breath.
The Duke snapped his fingers. "My pipe, Theo."
Theo left the room with his sheets of sombre music clutched in his hands.
Having watched him leave from the corner of her eyes, her courage to play returned somewhat.
He looked… hurt?
The last thing she wanted to do was make him loathe her more than he already did.
Slowly, she placed her hands on the keys.
When she glanced back at the waiting crowd, Candace caught her eye and winked.
Then, she began. The intro was slow at first, but then it picked up tempo and her hands sped over the keys, giving any onlooker the impression that she wasn't actually touching them.
It was one of Chopin's sonatas she knew by heart and was able to play without her music sheets.
Before she was finished, the Duke began clapping. Friedrich and Candace joined him, stopping gradually as the music came to an end.
"I've never been as enthralled, Lady Whitmore." The old man said, touching his chest dramatically.
She giggled, glancing at Candace.
Candace had her usual look of unfiltered awe, so did Friedrich.
But movement at the doorway caught her attention.
She hadn't even realized when he had come back to the room.
And he was looking directly at her.
Not at the piano behind her, not at anything else.
Just her.
Then, he turned on his heel and left the room.
Candace followed her gaze and saw him leave as well.
Breathing down on his pipe, the Duke gestured for an awaiting servant to help him to his room.
"Have a good night, Lady Whitmore… and Lady Kent."
Friedrich bowed at both of them and followed his father out.
Immediately they were alone, Candace rushed to where she still sat.
"Did you see what I saw?"
Eve blinked.
"What exactly did you see?"
Candace swatted her head as if she'd just asked a question even toddlers were supposed to be knowledgeable about.
"The way he was looking at you as you were playing."
Eve's eyes widened with curiosity.
"How was he looking at me?"
"Like… oh, I don't know how to describe it, Eve."
Eve laid a hand on her shoulder.
"It's fine. We have plenty of time to figure it out."
Candace escorted her to her bedroom door, mostly because she wanted to see if she could catch a glance at Lord Untouchable - though she never voiced it aloud.
Eve entered the room and closed the door.
After taking off her dress, rinsing her face with a wash cloth, she threw open the windows and climbed into the large bed.
As she laid down, her mind kept drifting back to him as she struggled to sleep.
The image of him laying down on the bed beside her was so strong that she had to reach out and confirm if he was actually there.
But, of course, he was not.
The cool air soothed her, but it couldn't completely erase the heat that thoughts of him generated.
But she was pulled out of her reverie when someone below shouted, "Fire!"