“As to the immediate future, I intend to savor tonight’s performance, no matter how gloomy the play. Any Shakespeare is better than none.”
“In that case, I hope you shall not be too disappointed,” he said and helped her down from the carriage.
She looked up at the theatre to find they were not at the Theatre Royal in Drury Lane but at Her Majesty’s on Haymarket.
“As you see, I took the liberty of changing the venue,” he confessed. “I was not up to bodies all over the stage in a typical Shakespearean tragedy.”
And no wonder, not with death so recently touching his family.
“Perfectly fine,” Adelia told him, waiting while the coachman assisted Penny down. Now it made sense how they could have arrived so quickly. If not for the venue change, they would have had much more time for conversing and, perhaps, another spontaneous kiss.
Soon, they were in the Burnleys’ private box on the third level on the left side of the theatre. Although she tried to maneuver into a better position, Adelia ended up on his lordship’s right side with the stage forward and to her left. This would not do, for she would have to look away from him all night to bring her left ear forward in order to catch what the actors were saying. Lord Burnley would have to suffer through a view of the back of her head for hours.
While her maid settled two rows behind, closest to the box’s privacy curtain, Adelia fretted. However, as Lord Burnley leaned over and spoke into her left ear, she realized it was better to hear him and to pretend to hear the play.
“I would like to do it again, too,” he whispered.
She froze at the words she wouldn’t have heard properly if he’d been on her other side—exceedingly glad not to have missed them. Her entire body was infused with warmth as if they were already kissing once more.
Smiling at him, she relaxed and took time to look around the theatre. It was quite full. Some in nearby boxes were craning their necks to look around and, strangely, seemed to be focusing on her.
At first, Adelia wasn’t positive. However, after a few minutes, she knew without a doubt that people from the other side of the theatre as well as in neighboring boxes were staring at her. Heads leaned together, fans were raised to cover mouths or to gesture toward their box.
What on earth?
“Lord Burnley, I fear something is amiss.”
He leaned close to her, following the path of her gaze. Then, he sat up straight.
“The boxes are sharing a few cups of gossip-water, I’d wager, and you, Lady Adelia, are the tea leaf of choice.”
“What? Me? Whyever for?”
She heard his rueful chuckle.
“Because you are out with me, of course. You are obviously my latest conquest.”
“I beg your pardon!” That should not thrill her, but it did, right down to her toes.
“And they are flabbergasted, especially the ladies with whom I’ve been linked in the past, and their pushy mummies, too. I would wager my last farthing they never saw you as a threat.”
Slandered and insulted, she thought. She ought to resent being considered anyone’s conquest. And yet, she was the one seated with Lord Burnley, at least for one night, and she was utterly content.
On the other hand, it was galling to think the other females didn’t view her as significant enough to be competition, not that she could blame them.
“Don’t let it worry you, my lady. Others have survived being linked to me with the same lurid rumors.”
His words deflated her. He was all but telling her how inconsequential she was, merely one in a long line. Adelia considered his words, recalling the many women she’d personally seen him escort outside onto a terrace, probably to go deeper into the garden for a tryst.
How many of them had also sat in the very seat she was in, thinking they had captured the heart, or at least the hand, of Owen Burnley?The luster went off the evening a little.
Just prior to the gas lamps dimmed and the curtain drew back, she glanced over to her own family’s box, expecting it to be empty.
It wasn’t. There was her brother with a woman she’d never seen before.
More curious still!
*
