Uncertainty snaked under her skin. “I don’t know you well enough to disbelieve it.”
He studied her a long moment. “You are right, of course,” he finally said.
Imogen’s stomach dropped. “I am?”
“Yes. You have no reason to believe my seeking you out is honest. We have known each other but a matter of days and have not had more than the slightest of conversations.” His voice dropped then to a whisper, pain coating his words. “And if you knew the half of what I have done, you would run screaming from me this instant.”
Imogen was shocked speechless. Before she had time to recover he continued in a firmer tone, “But know this: I am not after your sister for a relationship, be it honorable or not. I do not wish to disparage her, Miss Duncan,” he said slowly, carefully, “but she is not at all my type.”
Instantly her ire returned. “Not your type?” she asked in disbelief. “How can she not be? She is wonderfully sweet, and beautiful, and graceful. She would make you a fine marchioness if you had a mind to make her your wife.”
He sputtered out a laugh. “You are her greatest champion, I see.”
The ridiculousness of the situation hit her. Here she had been accusing him of using her to get to Mariah, and in the next breath she was berating him for not wanting her. But she could not back down now. She squared her shoulders. “I am.”
“Well, you may champion her all you like, but it will not change my mind. I have no intention, nor have I ever had any intention, of making Miss Mariah my bride, as lovely a person as she may be. And,” he added, enunciating each word with sharp precision, “I seek you out because I happen to like you.”
Imogen slumped back into her seat, her teeth biting into her lower lip. “Oh,” she breathed.
“Is it so very hard to believe that someone would wish to be your friend?”
“Well, it has not happened before now, so I am sure you can understand my surprise.”
“More fools they, then.” He grinned. “And all to my benefit, as I shall not have to share you.” The smile fell from his face and he looked at her oddly for a moment. “Your sister is very lucky, you know, to have you as a champion. Not all siblings are so close.”
She tilted her head and regarded him. “That comment seems to have a wealth of meaning behind it, my lord. Do you have siblings?”
He looked away, but not before she saw the flash of pain in his eyes. “Yes, there are four of us now. Though we are not close. Not any longer.”
His wording jarred her. “Four of you now? Have you lost a sibling?”
“Yes,” he mumbled. “A brother. But it was long ago.”
Imogen wanted to reach out, to lay a comforting hand on his arm. But he seemed to shake off the sudden pall that surrounded him and turned to her with a smile. “Now then, what does Lord Avery have for us this evening, hmm?”
The abrupt change of subject left her reeling. He held out his hand. She looked at it blankly for a moment before she placed her program into it.
But if he could let the charged moment pass so easily, then she could as well. It was obvious he did not want to continue with it. She straightened and directed her gaze to the heavy vellum in his hand. “He is to have a soprano from Italy,” she remarked as he glanced over the paper.
“Is he now?” Lord Willbridge murmured. “I wonder if this one is truly from Italy, or if she is from Italy by way of Gloucestershire like the last one.” He leered sideways at her, and she smothered a surprised giggle.
“Surely not.”
“Surely yes.” He nodded knowingly. “Though don’t let on. Lord Avery, I’m sure, had no knowledge of the deception, though how anyone could have been fooled by her atrocious accent I’ll never know.”
She laughed. “Well, to tell the truth, I could care less if she were from Italy or India or the East End. If she has a beautiful voice I will listen to it, and gladly.”
“Do you sing?” he asked.
“Very rarely, and only when forced.”
He grinned. “Then I shall have to force you.”
Alarm filled her. “No, you would not dare.” His answer was merely a lift of an eyebrow. She groaned. “No, promise me you will not. I would faint dead away were anyone to make me sing in public.”
“Faint dead away? Come now. You are made of sterner stuff than that, Miss Duncan.”
Just then the crowd began to pour into the room and take their seats. Imogen’s mother and sister were on them in a moment.
