Page 224

“Evander!”

I stop abruptly, turning.

“Stop behaving so improperly, for fuck’s sake.”

I turn back and resume my way. Behind me, his footsteps continue to follow.

We reach the gazebo. Julian is already there beside Nathaniel, Isobel, Agnes, and the photographer, Monsieur Viande, who is arranging tools and plates with skillful hands.

Isobel turns toward me. “Viscount Evander.”

“Lady Isobel.”

She fixes Dorian with a polite smile.

“Lord Dorian, would you care to pose for a photograph together?”

Irritation tightens my stomach.

He’d better not.

He casts a quick glance at me.

Just do it and see what happens.

“I believe it more appropriate that you take it with your brother,” he says, indicating Nathaniel with a nod.

“If you wish, sister.”

She swallows slightly, her mouth curving into a meager smile, disappointed without being able to show it openly.

Monsieur Viande, adjusting the camera, adds calmly: “It is a common thing, to portray families.”

Nathaniel observes me for a moment, then beckons me to approach.

Dorian leans toward me.

“He said a family portrait, perhaps you did not hear.”

Nathaniel merely shrugs his shoulders.

“Evander is part of our family.”

The words hit me, unexpected, and a subtle warmth runs down my spine.

Family.

Would things have turned out differently?

“Go ahead,” I say.

Nathaniel gives me a brief look and does not insist further. They settle themselves before the machine. Monsieur Viande begins to issue precise instructions, his hands indicating positions and tilts. Julian stations himself beside the photographer to observe every detail. I remain apart with Agnes and Dorian, watching the scene. Every now and then, he catches my eye.

She pulls her cloak slightly tighter around her shoulders. Noticing the gesture, I step toward her.

“Are you cold, Mademoiselle?”

“A little.”