Marcus did not look at Rhoda when he answered. Instead, his glare sent daggers flying toward Flavion’s end of the table. “She has three delightful little girls, Miss Mossant,” he answered gratifyingly, “aged seven, four, and an infant.”
Which, after some quick mental math on Cecily’s part, was a very revealing statement indeed.
It had been nearly eight years since Stephen left England.
Flavion had been carrying on with Lady Corinne for a few months after that.
Lady Corinne had been lucky to find a husband so quickly.
Flavion did not look up from his food.
So… Flavion had planted a cuckoo in another man’s nest. No wonder Lord Blakely was not very pleasant toward Flave. It was a miracle he endured Flavion’s presence at all. She wondered what other little secrets Flavion might have tucked away. Suddenly the idea of cuckolding him was not as diabolical as she’d thought.
Stephen pushed his plate away from him but continued to hold his knife. It was a rather sharp knife. Belatedly, Cecily wondered if she ought to have allowed her guests to be given such sharp objects.
Shortly after the white wine was poured, the mostly empty plates of salmon were removed.
The third course was a peppered roast beef. It went quite well with the red wine that had already been served. The guests dug into this course with a purposeful enthusiasm, most likely fueled by a strong desire to finish the entire meal as quickly as possible.
And then there was the herb-crusted fowl. And the delicately breaded shrimp. And then the citrus garnished venison… By the time dessert was taken away, the various faces about the table were either flushed or pale.
Every drop of wine was consumed.
It was as though a great sigh of relief spread through the room when Cecily rose to indicate that the ladies retreat and prepare to leave for the night’s entertainment. She nearly tiptoed out of the room. It felt, after all, as though she were navigating her way through a theater of war, moments before the trumpet sounded.
Two carriages werebrought around to transport the small group the relatively short distance to the Theatre Royale on Drury Lane. The gentlemen rode in one while the ladies followed in the second. By the time the ladies alighted from their carriage, the men already awaited them on the carpet leading into the theatre. The footmen assisted both Emily and Rhoda out, but Stephen leaned in when it was Cecily’s turn.
Taking advantage of a moment of privacy, Stephen clasped Cecily’s hand in his and looked at her with concern. “Are you holding up all right?”
Cecily rolled her eyes heavenward and exhaled loudly. “That, by far, has to have been the most dismally uncomfortable dinner party ever hosted. Why ever would you invite Lord Blakely when he and Flavion are at such odds with each other? Not that any of this is your fault, really. But good heavens, I never thought to discover proof of my husband’s fertility while hosting a dinner party.”
Stephen’s eyes widened. “I didn’t know she had a child, Cecily! Marcus never told me.”
The innocent look on his face was convincing enough for Cecily. How could she not believe him?
“And,” Stephen added, grasping her hand and assisting her onto the pavement, “it’s not every dinner party where the hostess casually admits to nearly drowning her husband’s mistress.” The corner of his mouth twitched ever so slightly, but the rest of his face remained impassive.
Cecily was beginning to comprehend that Stephen Nottingham had a sense of humor. He simply didn’t want anybody else to know about it.
She gave him a wry, sidelong glance. “Talk about farce…” And then they joined the rest of their party and began to make their way into the theatre.
Cecily had forgotten about the very public kiss Stephen had given her earlier that day.
The gossips had not.
As accustomed to being on the receiving end of vicious gossip, she immediately sensed something different. The women, of course, would never look upon her with approval, but dared she believe she saw a hint of respect along with their general disdain?
And something was different amongst the male members as well. An… interest that had been absent before this evening.
Stephen grasped Cecily about the waist and steered her quickly through the lobby as they ducked through a gauntlet of raised eyebrows and lascivious sneers. Once in Flavion’s private box, the gossipmongers were only slightly easier to ignore. Cecily sat in the back, between Stephen and Flavion, and Lord Blakely was flanked in the front by both Emily and Rhoda.
Cecily was thankful that they had not arrived much earlier. It had taken more than a little courage to stride through the lobby with her chin held high, as though the gossip around her was of no matter. And she was going to have to get used to this!
But of course, after the divorce, she would eventually be shunned altogether. And then she would have no need to worry about what thetonthought at all.
The thought was both freeing and depressing. She would not have imagined she would feel the latter.
She pulled out her opera glasses and made a show of looking below at the gathered crowd and then over into other occupied boxes. Every seat was full. This production had received glowing reviews, and tonight’s performance was obviously sold out.
