“I’m looking at the people,” Madeline managed. It felt like a thin explanation, but he only nodded, leaning forward to rest his elbow on the railing. He stared down at the crowd for a long time, then nodded again.
“They look as though they are having a good time. Sister Abigail said that she had hoped to come here tonight with some patrons, but I think the excursion was canceled after all.”
Madeline missed a beat, glancing over at him.
“Sisterwho?”
“I don’t believe that you know her,” Tristan responded, leaning back in his seat. “You look very beautiful tonight, Madeline.”
She glanced at him, open-mouthed. How could he give her such a careless complimentnow, when they had shared the moments they had last night, and he had disappeared so suspiciously?
I have to know, Madeline realized, with something like resignation. She opened her mouth to ask him quite bluntly, just where exactly he had gone. The question was huge in her mind, growing larger by the minute.
At that moment, however, the orchestra began with a flourish, and the curtain shot up. Applause broke out over the crowd, making Madeline flinch. She blinked, glancing around at the clapping audience. The show, it seemed, had begun.
Dorothea had told Madeline what the name of the opera was, but Madeline had forgotten it. There was some ballet to begin, with shepherdesses and a single shepherd leaping about gracefully on the stage, making no noise when they landed from their leaps.
Dorothea sat closest to the stage, with James coming next, and then Madeline. Tristan sat at her side. He leaned forward, resting his elbow on the railing. She could sense him beside her, feel the warmth coming from him. He was looking at her; she just knew it, and her skin prickled all over.
The music swept upwards in a glorious finale, the shepherdesses and shepherds danced offstage, and a single woman came striding out onto the stage. Madeline stared, her vision momentarily blurring, and immediately felt foolish.
The woman was, of course, Miss Juliana Bolt.
She wore a long, vibrant robe of bright yellow, and her hair was loose in a bright red torrent. She faced the audience with a broad, knowing smile and spread her arms.
She began to sing, and her voicewasglorious. It was something in Italian, and Madeline did not understand most of the words, but the emotion was still there. She leaned forward, swallowing hard.
She’s so beautiful. How could a man ever choosemeover her?
“You were with Miss Bolt this morning, weren’t you?” Madeline whispered.
She had thought that her voice was too quiet for him to hear over the music. Indeed, Tristan did not reply immediately. However, he rose to his feet after a moment, snatched up her hand, and tugged her to her feet.
“Let us speak outside,” he said shortly.
Madeline was too amazed to respond. Dorothea’s eyes were glued to the stage, entirely entranced. James glanced their way curiously, but soon turned his attention back to the stage.
Tristan dragged her out of the box and out into the hall. The music faded a little, and at last Madeline tugged her hand out of his.
“What are you doing?” she hissed. “Stop dragging me around, if you please!”
Tristan offered her a tight smile. “We will talk, you and I.”
“Will we?”
“Yes, if you please. Come, let’s find somewhere private.”
She folded her arms. “Here is private, isn’t it?”
Tristan sniffed. “What, where anybody could wander along? I think not. Let’s go in here.”
A little way along the hall, down a quiet doorway and along a narrow corridor that Madeline was not sure was designed for common use, there was a curtained alcove. He swept back the curtain to reveal a pair of seats facing each other.
“What on earth isthisroom for?” Madeline wondered aloud.
Tristan threw himself into one seat and gestured for her to take the other. She stepped inside, eyeing him warily. After a moment, he reached forward and pulled the curtain closed.
“I was not seeing Miss Juliana Bolt this morning, if you must know,” Tristan snapped. “Did our conversation last night mean nothing? I thought we had agreed on trust.”
