What it would feel like forNathanialto embrace her in that way.
The curtains dropped. For a heartbeat, she thought Nathanial might not release her—that perhaps he felt the same reassurance and comfort and newly budding awareness from the way their fingers locked together—but his hand loosened.
She snatched hers back and held it to her chest.
Annabelle wiped away tears. “That was wonderful. I didn’t know music could . . .”
Theo pulled off her dratted glove, where Nathanial’s warmth still lingered, and fixed her attention on anything buthis face. Hers was a little warm. “Yes,” she said, distracted. “It was spectacular.”
“I’ll get us some refreshments,” Nathanial said, and Theo nodded without looking at him. As soon as he left, she peered over the edge of her box into the milling crowd below. The beautiful, auburn woman was still seated, exchanging smiles with a gentleman Theo didn’t recognise, but Sir Montague was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps they were not together after all.
“Who are you looking for?” Annabelle asked.
Theo did not know how to explain she was searching for a distraction from her husband’s presence.
“I’m not looking for anyone,” she said. “I’m just looking. In the box, you can see everyone.”
Everyone, that was, save the elusive Sir Montague. He would have been the ideal distraction.
Just as she was thinking how pleasant it would be to exit the box and find someone to converse with, Sir Montague himself bowed in the doorway. “Forgive me,” he said as he looked directly at her, his dark eyes intense. In a rush, Theo remembered the power over her those eyes had. “I could not resist presenting myself to you as soon as I knew you were here.”
Theo tapped Annabelle on the leg so she would stop gawking. “Sir Montague! I believe we have not met since Almack’s.”
“We have not. Are you enjoying the theatre, Your Grace?” He advanced further into the box at her motion.
“Exquisitely,” she said. “Sir Montague, please allow me to present my sister, Lady Annabelle Beaumont.”
“Lady Annabelle.” Montague’s dark eyes scanned Annabelle, whose cheeks, unusually, flushed. “A pleasure. You share your sister’s beauty.”
Annabelle was complimented into silence. Since Theo’s marriage, she’d received far more attention from gentlemen,but she did not seem to relish it the way Theo had. Sometimes, Theo thought her sister would rather read than attend balls.
Yet Sir Montague made her bite her lip and glance down at her hands.
Theo fixed Sir Montague with a stern glance. “You are forbidden from flirting with my sister, if you please.”
“My apologies. The compliment was meant equally for you.”
“I am an old, married woman now,” she said, trying and failing to hide her pleasure at the lazy smile Sir Montague sent her.
“Married you may be, but I will not allow you to be old.” His smile sharpened, and Theo could not stop looking at the blade of his mouth. “If you are, I must be decrepit.”
Theo laughed, surprised. “You can hardly be so very old.”
“I am past thirty.”
There were more than ten years between them, and at least in terms of experience, Theo felt the difference keenly. The thought brought a pang with it—why would a man so much older and experienced want someone as young as her?—and she cast a cursory glance into the stalls. And frowned. There was Nathanial, undeniably Nathanial, speaking with the auburn-haired lady she’d noticed before.
The same one she could have sworn Sir Montague had been seated beside.
Coincidence, she was certain.
Yet there was something about the way the lady smiled, with razor intent, that put Theo’s teeth on edge. “Who is that lady?” she asked lightly.
Sir Montague glanced where she indicated. “Mrs Stanton,” he said, though there was something reserved about his tone, and he sent her a hesitant glance. “Though you must not credit me with giving you her name—I doubt hers is a society the Duke would want you to keep.”
As Theo watched, this Mrs Stanton laughed and put her hand on Nathanial’s arm—a possessive gesture that he did nothing to shake off. As Theo watched, she leant up and whispered something in his ear, her body uncomfortably close to his.
And Nathanial, to Theo’s horror, smiled.
