Heat washed over her skin at the intense way he studied her mouth. She bit her lower lip, suddenly self-conscious, and he let out a low sound that made her belly tingle.
She’d kissedhismouth. Just once. Four years ago, before she’d left for Brazil. The shameful episode was etched into her brain. As was the subsequent humiliation.
“You mentioned a bet?” she said breathlessly.
“I did. Kit Hollingsworth is offering a hundred pounds to whoever unmasks the Phantom.”
“And you think that person will be me?”
His gaze flashed back up to hers. “I do. Because if anyone loves meddling and mysteries, it’s you. You’ve been back in London for weeks without a scandal to your name, which means you must be desperate for something to do.”
Lucy tried not to look interested. Shehadbeen getting a little bored. Life in thetonwas so restrictive compared to the wonderful freedoms she’d enjoyed for the past three years, traveling the globe with her intrepid parents.
Still, the fact that Arden knew her well enough to guess that she’d been longing for a challenge was annoying, to say the least. She hated to be so predictable.
She tilted her head and pretended to give the matter serious thought, despite already knowing she couldn’t refuse such an enticing challenge.
“Let me just make sure I have this right. Kit Hollingsworth will give me a hundred pounds if I prove the Phantom of Drury Lane is a person and not a ghost?”
Arden nodded. “You must provide a name.”
“Very well. It’s father’s birthday coming up next month. I’ll use the money to buy him a new microscope. His favorite one was damaged when we were shipwrecked a few months ago.”
Arden’s lips curved at her confidence, and he moved back, giving her some space. The noise of the crowd intruded again. “I wish you the best of luck. When will you start your investigation?”
“As soon as possible.” Lucy sent him a questioning glance. “I assume, as one of the theater’s backers, that you have access to the place whenever you like?”
“I have a key to the side entrance, if that’s what you mean. But I’m not trusting you with it, Lucy Lockit.”
Lucy scowled at the teasing nickname. Lucy Lockit was a character from John Gay’s comedy, The Beggar’s Opera—the foolish daughter of the fictional warden of Newgate, who stole the keys to free her bigamous, cheating lover from debtor’s prison.
“How am I supposed to investigate, then?”
His easy smile made her feel like she’d walked into a trap. “I’ll escort you, if you like.”
Lucy blinked. Arden had never offered to take her anywhere before. In the past, he’d gone out of his way toavoidher company.
She narrowed her eyes. “You? Escort me?”
He looked almost offended by her skepticism. “Yes, me. We can go tomorrow morning. Hard as this may be for you to believe, Montgomery, but I do occasionally get out of bed before noon.”
A sudden, unwanted mental image of him, sprawled in an artfully concealing tangle of bed sheets, heated her cheeks. He sent her an amused, wicked glance, as if he knew precisely the direction of her wayward thoughts.
“I’ll be there, I promise,” he said. “The entrance for the boxes is on Brydges Street. I’ll meet you there at ten.”
He didn’t wait for her agreement. He simply turned on his heel and walked away.
Lucy watched him leave with mingled relief and regret. Interacting with Arden always left her slightly on edge, but the thought of having something to enliven her day tomorrow was enough to lift her spirits.
Discovering the identity of the mysterious Phantom would be gratifying, but not half as satisfying as proving to Arden that she was a clever, capable woman, and not the foolish girl he’d kissed and then rejected with such obvious loathing four years ago.
CHAPTER2
Arden was waiting at the Brydges Street entrance to the theater when Lucy’s carriage pulled up the following morning. Her parents had insisted that she be accompanied by Rebecca, her long-suffering maid, for propriety’s sake, but since the girl was desperate to finish reading her book, Lucy laughingly told her to stay in the carriage withEmmaand Jane Austen.
Arden took her hand to help her down the step, but he released her with unflattering haste, and Lucy bit back a sigh.
He tilted his head toward the theater door. “There’s probably a rehearsal going on at the moment. The company can’t afford to close between productions, so they practice the upcoming play during the day, and perform the current one at night.”
