The two parties dispersed, and Thalia took her seat at the front of the box. She hadn’t watchedDon Giovanniin quite some time, and although she remembered the opera well, she felt oddly raw, as though someone had scraped at her emotions.
I must be thinking of my father, demanding I marry with no concern for my wellbeing at all.
Thalia frowned heavily and tried to shake off the thoughts as well as the peculiar sensations accompanying them.
The curtain rose, and the opera began.
Opposite, she could make out the Duke in his box. Miss Parsons sat at the very front wearing her opera glasses. The girl looked riveted to the stage, dreamy and lost in the music.
Despite herself, however, Thalia couldn’t quite concentrate. The Duke was sitting a fraction back from Lydia, largely concealed by shadow, and although she should have known better, she kept imagining his gaze fell on her.
Then, Act Two began, and the music wrought its usual magic on her. Donna Elvira’s broken heart made Thalia’s ache, and when they came to the scene in the graveyard, Thalia’s heart contracted.
She had not been to a graveyard since the death of her brother, Adrian.
Even now, she could recall the way her hands had trembled as she had touched the headstone.
Everything would be different now if Adrian were still here. The four years since his death had crept by, and she felt as though there was a great hollow in her heart.
On stage, Don Giovanni taunted the statue of the Commendatore, and Thalia remembered the way she had wept at her brother’s gravestone, begging him to return.
Tears sprang to her eyes. Unwilling to be seen crying, and at such a scene, she murmured to Elliot, “I need some air. I’ll be back soon.”
With that, she left the box.
Outside, the corridors were all but empty, and she wandered along them until she found an outdoor balcony. The night air greeted her, drying her cheeks.
“Oh, Adrian…” she sighed, wiping the tears that flowed down her face. “You had to go and get yourself killed.”
Adrian had shielded her from her father and all his gambling, conniving ways. He had been only twenty-three when he died, a mere year older than her now. Soon, she would have more years on this earth than he was ever granted, and that felt so awfully, horribly, terribly unfair.
She sniffled, wiping her cheeks and sucking in a deep breath.
“Lady Thalia?” a voice said from behind her, and although she didn’t immediately turn, she knew precisely who it was.
Her stomach twisted.
Of all times for the Duke to find me, why now?
“What are you doing here?” Her voice came out hoarse, and she cursed inwardly for exposing herself so easily.
“Something upset you.” He came closer, standing beside her on the narrow balcony. Below, London spread before them, tiny bobbing lights marking the carriages that wove through the streets. “What was it?”
“Leave me alone.”
“My lady?—”
“Do you make it a point of ignoring the requests of the ladies you meet, or am I an exception?” Finally, she turned to him, looking up into his shadowed face. “Did you truly come here because you saw me leave?”
“I saw something had upset you, and no one else in your box left to check on you.”
“They would have done if I had asked them to, but I had no wish to befollowed. I am not a china doll, liable to break at any given moment.”
“I never said you were,” he said evenly. “But you have also been engaging in activities that have the potential to be dangerous. I would not be surprised if something like that were to catch up with you.”
“And what concern would it be of yours if that were the case?” she demanded. “I told you the last time we met to stop interfering in my life.”
He pinched his nose. “Must you always be this contrarian?”
