The theater lobby was packed full of patrons. It was intermission, and most people had left their seats to socialize. Somehow, I had lost track of my family. I lifted onto my toes. My height was an advantage, but the long hallway was so full of people, it was hard to differentiate anyone in the crowd. People passed by me, some I recognized, and yet not a single soul stopped to chat with me.
A glass of punch in hand, I had to sidestep to avoid a couple who nearly ran into me. Liquid sloshed out of my glass and splattered my white gloves, leaving dots of pink. “Beg pardon,” I said, humiliated by my clumsiness.
The couple continued on their way, not even acknowledging my words.
How rude of them. My shyness often brought about ridicule. I squared my shoulders and reminded myself that it was a poor reflection on them and not me. I moved to the edge of the room, where it was less populated. Corinthian columns bordered the gold embossed wallpapered walls, holding up the vaulted ceilings.
I sipped at the overly warm punch and shuddered at the sour taste. A waiter bearing a full tray appeared from a door embedded in the wall. Another figure slipped out as well,disappearing behind the column. I moved aside to allow the waiter to pass, and he trod on my toe.
“Ouch,” I said, stepping back to avoid further harm. He had the audacity to glare at me and passed without issuing an apology. My shoulder bumped one of the columns, and I leaned against the cool marble surface.
“Am I invisible?” I asked nobody in particular. It was a question I asked myself a lot. In a room full of hundreds, I was often overlooked.
“I see you,” Lord Kendrick said from behind me. There was no mockery in his statement but genuine sincerity.
“What a relief. I thought for a moment that I had perished and had become a ghost,” I said, relying on humor to cover my upset. Warmth flooded my chest, and I blinked back the moisture from my eyes. His solicitousness was touching. The dismissive way Miss Cameron had spoken to me was crushing, especially in front of the duke. To add insult to injury, I had obsessed over the offense during the entire play, rehashing every word in my mind. By doing so, I had given her the power to hurt me.
“I believe you are very much alive,” he said, amusement underling his words.
He settled a hand on my waist, and I noticed his broad frame at my back. I could feel the heat of his body through the ridiculously ruffled bodice of my gown. “Mr. Moran wishes for my stories to be authentic.”
“I think dying and becoming a ghost is going a bit too far for your craft. However, being invisible would have its benefits.” He dropped his hand from my person but remained behind me. “Avoiding entanglements for one.”
“Hence whyyouare hiding. Do you wish to avoid Miss Cameron or your mother?” I wanted him to put his hand back, but I dared not be so bold. He had made himself clear hedidn’t wish to bed me. I was still insulted, but I understood his reasoning. I didn’t have to like it.
“You are correct on all fronts. Am I bothering you?” he asked. His low chuckle brought a smile to my lips.
Yes. “No.” I couldn’t tell him the truth. He was here to court another woman, a very unpleasant girl. I was used to being bullied, and until I stood up for myself, I would continue to be. Confrontation was difficult for me, and it was easier to let it pass than say anything to my tormentor.
“Good. I need some advice.”
“You are asking me for advice? What about Colt?” It was rare to see Lord Kendrick without Colt. When I thought of one man, I often thought of the other. The duke fascinated me. Colt challenged my mind. I desired both of them, which only added to my confusion.
“Colt isn’t here, and I’d like a woman’s perspective.” His earlier teasing manner disappeared.
“I am listening.” I rolled the glass in my palms, my head angled to await his every word. He still stood behind me, and I couldn’t see his expression. Curiosity was eating me alive. People continued to mingle, and the heavy scents of cigars and perfumed bodies clogged my nose.
“My mother is pushing for me to marry. You met Miss Cameron.”
Everything inside me rebelled at the idea of him marrying the heiress. I bit back the protest forming on my lips and turned to look at him, my back to the room at large. He was half-hidden by the column, his hip resting against the marble. In his black jacket and white shirt, hair tied back, he was every inch the duke. His clothes fit him to perfection, but I preferred his work attire. It suited his character. “Yes, she is very, um, interesting.”
“Interesting.” A smile curled his lip, and he licked the bottom one.
My toes curled in my shoes, and a rush of sensation brought every nerve alive. The kiss he had bestowed upon me rushed into my mind. I wanted to kiss him again, yet at the same time run away. How contrary I had become. In my defense, he had said he wouldn’t exchange intimacies with me, yet he kissed me. “I’m trying to be kind.”
“She was rude to you on purpose. You needn’t bother to think the best of her.” His eyes held chips of chillness as his nostrils flared. He was furious on my behalf, which was flattering to my ego.
“If I think the worst of her, I am no better than her,” I countered.
“You are nothing like her, but I digress.” He tugged at his tie, clearly uncomfortable in his formal attire.
“No, I’m not. She is young and very pretty. I am not.” It was a fact I had learned to live with. I was still young, but not in the bloom of youth like Miss Cameron. There was nothing I could do to change my appearance, but I could change how I viewed the world and its inhabitants.
“I beg to differ, but I am not here to discuss you.” The teasing light was back in his eyes.
A loud shout, followed by guffaws, sounded from close by. He moved behind the pillar, and I followed. I might be invisible, but people would rush to his side the second he was spotted. Like I wished to rush to his side. “You had a question for me.”
“You are right. She is young. What is your opinion on a man of thirty marrying such a young lady?” He crossed his arms, the material of his jacket straining at his shoulders.
