“Lord Blackburn, I think you know they’re all watching,” she said beneath her breath, fluttering her lashes a little.
He swallowed and nodded. “They’ve been watching all night. You were spot on in that assessment. Not that I’d expect anything less, clever as you are.”
Heat filled her cheeks at that compliment. In this setting where it was obvious he was the kind of man who appreciated intelligence, it felt like it had more meaning. “I suppose we should make our exit before many others leave, then. Just so they can watch us go and see our slightly more than formal farewell.”
“And what would that entail?” he asked.
“Perhaps you hold my hand a little too long?” she suggested. “Watch my carriage drive away with a look of longing on your face?”
“You should be on the stage, natural performer that you are,” he teased. “But I can easily do both.”
“Good.” She let him lead her toward the exit of the salon. It was situated above Mattigan’s, the city’s best bookshop, and they came down the stairs and around to the front of that shop. Inside she could see a cozy fire burning and the bookseller chatting in an animated way to several patrons.
Blackburn raised a hand to have her carriage brought and they stood together as other patrons from the Salon meandered out onto the street for their own exits. They were definitely being watched and she once again leaned just a fraction closer.
He cleared his throat. “Would you still like to attend the opera? They’re performing Rossini in three days at Drury Lane Theatre.”
“Ah, very romantic. Perfect for our own show,” she said. “I would be pleased to join you.”
“Excellent. I’ll send all the details and pick you up that night,” he said.
Her carriage arrived and he lifted her hand to his lips, lingering there a little longer than he had when he first greeted her. She knew it was all for show but when he lifted his green gaze to hers as he brushed his lips over the silk of her glove her heart made a very real rate increase. She didn’t have to pretend her blush or the way her hand shook as he released her and waved off her footman to help her into the rig himself.
“Goodnight,” he said before he closed the door and allowed her to depart. She pushed the curtain away from her window and found he was, indeed, watching her as she rode away. If she hadn’t known it was all an act, she would have thought he truly had an interest in her.
She shoved back into her seat and folded her arms. “Absolutely not,” she chided herself softly. “This is an arrangement of a very different kind and a very good way for you to practice not getting lost in a man just because he’s handsome or witty or fascinating.”
She said the words, but it was harder to feel them. Which meant she had to be very careful as they moved forward in this bargain. She didn’t have much of herself left to lose. She couldn’t give it away to a man who clearly still had feelings for his wayward wife. A man who had made it clear he was only using her.
CHAPTER8
Afew nights later, Evelina stared at herself in the mirror, in her full finery for the opera. It had been a long time since she’d worn the complete costume of a courtesan. Even before Harry had cut her off, he had been critical of her being too flashy, especially if they were going out to someplace that might be considered proper.
But the dark green gown she had donned for the evening had always been one of her favorites. It had been gathered and tucked with exquisite attention to detail, from the way the fabric lay to the little dark yellow cloth flowers that adorned the neckline and capped off the sleeves. It was low cut, of course, revealing a bit more bosom than a proper lady might have dared to do. She’d always considered it the perfect combination of seduction and elegance.
What would Blackburn think of her?
She cut herself off from that thought immediately.Thatwas the thought of a woman entering an affair in truth and that was not her. If she kept having thoughts about Blackburn it wasn’t because she wanted him or longed to be wantedbyhim. This was about the arrangement and nothing more. That had been made clear by their lack of contact since they’d last met at Lady Lena’s, beyond a quick note to inform her what time he would pick her up tonight. It had been warm but formal, nothing to confuse matters and so she refused to let herself become confused just because he liked astronomy or was kind to servants and probably children and little animals, too.
She sighed at her reflection in the mirror and got up to walk to her window. The garden behind the home was dark, but she could make out a few shadows of the trees and bushes. Would it be wrong to climb down the trellis and bolt into the night? Change her name and go live beside the sea?
Sometimes that seemed like the perfect answer to all her problems.
She heard the bell below and shrugged off her worries. She also tried to ignore how her hands shook as she smoothed her gown one last time and then moved to the door. Her maid arrived in mere moments to tell her of Blackburn’s arrival and Evelina made her way to the stairs to go meet him.
To her surprise, she found him waiting at the bottom of those stairs as she turned across the landing to come down the second flight of them. He was leaning on the banister, staring up at her, and her breath caught.
The last few times she’d seen him, including at Lady Lena’s, the man had been slightly disheveled. His hair had been a fraction too long, his cheeks slashed with stubble like he’d forgotten to shave. He’d looked like a man with troubles.
But tonight, dressed in full formal attire and cleaned up, he looked…well, he was very handsome. His gaze flitted over her from head to toe as she stepped from the last step and it was in that moment she realized her gown matched those eyes perfectly. Had she done that on purpose when she was choosing between this dress and a wine-colored one that would have been just as perfect for the opera?
She didn’t think so. That was something a courtesan did when she was truly lovers with a man, not when she was pretending.
“Good evening, Evelina,” he said, taking her hand and lifting it to his lips briefly. The brush of his mouth was soft on her bare skin and sent unexpected tingles up her arm.
“My lord,” she managed to gasp out in response.
Those green eyes lifted to hers and he smiled. “Well, that won’t do at all now that we’ve reached this moment when we’re about to reveal ourselves as entangled. If we were truly lovers, you wouldn’t be so formal, I don’t think.”
