“Then we shall look forward to the invitation. I love a hand of bridge,” Charlotte replied, smiling warmly.
They moved on.
“You play bridge?” Seth murmured once they were out of earshot.
She gave him a sidelong look. “Not in the slightest. I was hoping you’d teach me.”
He grinned. “Cards are my natural domain. If there is a wager involved, I am practically a scholar.”
“Then I’ll expect an intensive education.”
His eyes remained fixed forward. “Oh, it will be rigorous. Intrusive. And entirely in private.” His tone was low and velvet-dark—it sent a flush straight to her cheeks. And thatinsufferablydevilish smirk returned.
They crossed into a lobby, past a flurry of silk and perfume. He paused, then tilted his chin to a man with red hair who stood alone on the far side of the foyer and seemed to be watching the gathered theater-goers with interest.
“Do you see that man? I have come to know him by sight. He is a journalist who writes for some of London’s most salacious scandal sheets. And he has no doubt glimpsed us.”
“From the perspective of our subterfuge, is that a good or bad development?” Charlotte asked.
“Grand. It means the ton shall deem us officially as a couple. Less suspicions, fewer gossiping.”
They moved on towards the auditorium. Seth produced the tickets and showed them to a uniformed footman, who directed them to the corridor leading to the boxes. They stopped at a door marked with the name Bellmonte. Beyond was a short flight ofstairs that led to a box in prime position overlooking the stage. As they entered, Seth pulled the chairs back.
She frowned. “I may be compelled to feel insulted. I am hardly a giantess, how will I see?”
He winked. “Perfect. I do not care to be observed too much. Everyone looks up to see who has the boxes. Once the performance starts, they will be focused on the stage. It shall provide us with such much-needed privacy.”
Charlotte sat, musing. “You are far too practiced at that, I daresay. As if I am not the first woman you have brought here. Do many of your lady friends enjoy the theater?”
Seth fell into the seat beside her, swiveling, chin propped on his fist. “I am sure many do, but you are the first to accompany me here. I must confess, I have not been the greatest patron of the arts.”
Charlotte interlaced her fingers with his, and he drew her hand in for a kiss.
“I do enjoy the notion of privacy amid a crowd. It can feel rather... exhilarating.”
“Isn’t it just?” He breathed, taking another kiss, savoring her perfume.
Her face lit up then. “Ah, speaking of crowds. Last night, I was thinking it was a shame that such a grand old house as Hillcrest should be left to go to ruin. Could you not hold a ball there? It would show your willingness to become a respectable man.”
He twirled her palm in his hands, kissing her wrist. “Whatever gave you the impression I care to be a respectable man?”
She let her eyes slip shut. “The question should be… surely… doIwant you to be a respectable man?”
“Is this Amelia or Charlotte speaking?” he arched a brow.
“Charlotte...”
“IfCharlottewishes it, then I wish it,” he murmured, feathering kisses up her forearm.
She giggled softly, eyelids fluttering open. “That is a charming thing to say, but so easy as just words. I imagine every rake to have ever lived has uttered something similar when complementing their seduction,” she remarked, drawing back her hand from his grasp.
The briefest glimpse of absolute despondency that crossed his face made her almost regret her actions. “True,” he sighed, “and I have said it many times myself. But never meant it.”
“And how do I know that you mean it now?”
Charlotte felt her heart thrumming. She had discussed flirtation with Lucy, her maid, and in the briefest of correspondences with Amelia, but had never truly put it into practice.
I could never understand how from what Amelia described. It was as a foreign language to me. Now… I see thehow.
