Cynicism about members of Society was something Evie doubted she’d ever be able to shed. It was ironic since she had so many friends who moved in that upper echelon. But those people were different. They were the members of Society who didn’t feel as though they entirely belonged or who had been ignored or disdained for one reason or another. These were the people whom her close friend Lord Lucien Westbrook invited to join the Phoenix Club, a membership club for men—and women—that Evie managed. She was also one of four patronesses of the club, which was as close to that most revered sector of Society as she ever wanted to get.

That Society had refused to welcome Heloise after her marriage to Alfred was perhaps the primary reason Evie couldn’t ever embrace it fully. Heloise had been Alfred’s mistress, and though they’d fallen in love, the ton couldn’t forgive or forget Heloise’s past. What would they think if they knew the truth—that she and Evie were the daughters of a French chevalier who’d been killed during the Terror? Evie wasn’t naïve enough to think that would matter. Many in Society liked to think they were better than others. It was the basis of their self-worth.

“Did I lose you?” Lord Gregory asked as they approached the tree.

Evie shook her head gently. “Not at all. I’m certain the Creightons would be delighted to meet their neighbors.” Heloise, in the interest of being friendly, might even try to invite them to Threadbury Hall.

Lord Gregory turned to face her, his lips turning up slightly. “This is where we leave you, I’m afraid. What will I do if Ash despairs in your absence?”

Evie knew that was nonsense. Was Lord Gregory flirting with her? It didn’t seem like it—he was refreshingly genuine. “He won’t.”

“I suppose not. You did say you wished to visit, and I shall ensure your parting is short, if not temporary.”

“Your persistence is unwavering. Anyway, I suspect you’ll find where he belongs. A child is perhaps missing him even now.” That pulled at Evie’s heartstrings, both because she hated to think of a child saddened by the loss of their pet and because she didn’t want Ash to belong to anyone.

Except perhaps to her.

No! She didn’t have time for a dog.

“That may be true,” Lord Gregory said. “I’ll keep you informed.” He started to turn toward the opening between the hedge and tree, but Evie stopped him.

“One last nuzzle,” she said softly, cupping Ash’s sweet face. His round brown eyes met hers, and she nearly succumbed. The pup didn’t need Lord Gregory’s help in trying to persuade her to keep him.

Evie kissed the dog’s head and quickly backed away. “Thank you for taking care of him.”