“Don’t look now, my lord, but every opera glass is now trained upon us,” Milly said, catching the glint of glasses.
“Shall we give them something to talk about, then?”
Before she could stop him, he had taken her hand and kissed the back.
“By jove, did you see that! The Duchess of Chantry just about fell out of her box!”
Milly hid her smile at Charles’s words.
She was exquisite, every inch perfection, and Joseph wanted to place his lips on the soft, sweet-smelling skin of her neck.
Milly had walked into his box, and he’d been spellbound. Her dress was colored somewhere between cream and apricot, the perfect complement to her blonde hair and lovely skin. It clung to the sweet curves of her body, and made his collar feel tight.
Her hair was piled high and the curls pinned into place. She wore a simple satin of small flowers the same color as her dress tied around her head, and the effect was stunning in its simplicity.
“You liked the opera four years ago. Do you still?”
She sat at his side, hands crossed in her lap, eyes forward. To anyone looking, she would appear relaxed, yet he knew her well enough to see that was not the case. Coming here was not easy for her. Being the center of attention had once been something she enjoyed, but he could see that was no longer the case.
“I am yet to determine that, my lord.”
He’d noticed that about her too; she no longer spoke in carrying tones.
“What entertainments did you enjoy while you were gone?” He would take any opportunity to find out what her life had been like.
“I once saw a travelling theatre company perform a terrible rendition ofTwelfth Nightin a field near the village of Dainty. I sat on my lump of hay with great expectation of an entertaining evening. Alas, it was not to be.”
She’d sat on a lump of hay while he’d sat in his box, here at the theatre. With a full belly and warm bed waiting for him. The thought made him angry.
“I hope it did not rain.” He managed to get out in a reasonable tone.
“No indeed, it was a clear night, if a little cold. But I must own that I have never enjoyed an experience more.”
He looked at her, but her eyes were facing forward.
“I believe you said it was a terrible rendition.”
She looked at him briefly, and he saw something pass across her face. Laughter, fear, or sadness, he could not discern what.
“Oh it was, but there is something special about sitting outside on a starlit night, eating roasted chestnuts with people whose only expectation in life is to rise in the morning healthy and whole.”
Joseph made himself look around the primped and pampered guests, and suddenly he knew exactly what she meant.
“We believe ours is a privileged life, and in many ways it is....”
“But in so many ways it is not,” she finished softly.
He did not answer as he did not know what to say. So instead he sat by her side in silence as the opera began.
She sat completely still and took everything in. It was as if this were her first visit. For Joseph’s part, he tried to not watch her, and for the most he succeeded.
When intermission came, his family rose, as did Milly.
“Come, we will walk,” Ellie said, taking her husband’s arm.
The others followed. Rory took Milly’s arm and Joseph her aunt’s.
“Thank you, my lord, for inviting us tonight. It will go a long way toward soothing her nerves about entering society.”
