As it turnedout, Adelia gave Lord Burnley a view of the back of her head out of fascination with what unfolded upon the stage. In lieu of a work by Shakespeare, it was a gripping abolitionist play from America. She had never read the bookUncle Tom’s Cabinbut found the play fascinating and heart-wrenching.
During the intermission, Lord Burnley told her of a Scottish weaver, William Thomson, who’d traveled through the southern states and came home to publish an account in 1842, insisting the American slaves had better lives than the laboring poor in England and particularly in Scotland.
“Of course, while our class was secretly thrilled to learn of America’s misfortune and the challenge to its so-called liberty for all,” Lord Burnley explained, “I don’t recall any lords, especially members of Parliament, my father included, being nearly so pleased to have the conditions of our own poor tossed in our faces.”
“I admit to being woefully uninformed,” Adelia confessed. They were sipping wine in a luxurious lobby, and she felt ignorant, not to mention spoiled.
“Better uninformed than to be a hypocrite,” Lord Burnley remarked, looking about at his fellow theatergoers. “My family, for one, has always ensured our miners work in safe and sanitary conditions, no matter the cost to our profits.”
Adelia frowned. She would have to ask Thomas, whom she now knew was attending the play, whether the conditions of their own mines were acceptable. Thinking of him, she looked to see if her brother had come out into the lobby.
“Are you seeking someone in particular?” Lord Burnley asked.
“My brother,” she started to answer when two ladies and a gentleman walked by, not bothering to disguise their blatant interest in Adelia. Clearly, she overheard the phrase “boring mouse.”
Recoiling under their scrutiny, she turned her back, finding herself facing a pillar.
“Idiots,” Lord Burnley bit out harshly. The next instant, his hand was upon her arm, gently trying to get her attention. Unfortunately, he also leaned down and said something into her bad ear.Worse and worse!
Turning to him, her cheeks hot, she wished only for the darkness of the theatre’s interior.
“Do you agree?” he asked, standing close, his back to the lobby, shielding her from sight with his tall body and broad shoulders.
Having no idea what he’d asked, she shrugged evasively and sipped her wine.
“Chin up,” he said. “You have no reason to lurk in the shadows.”
Despite his kind words, Adelia wanted to draw the attention away from herself. “Do you read many novels?”
And to her happiness, he said he did. She questioned him further, listening with interest to him tell of his favorite authors, many she knew and had read. Maybe it would be possible to share something of her own writing with him, anonymously, of course.
Soon, the dimming of the gas lamps signaled the end of the intermission, and they all streamed back into the theatre. If the Burnleys’ box hadn’t been around the other side from her own family’s, she would have stopped in to meet Thomas’s lady friend.
In any case, when they returned to their seats, she glanced over to see the Smythe box was empty. Perchance the play had not been to their liking.
*
The evening hadturned chilly by the time they left Her Majesty’s Theatre. Adelia insisted Penny sit inside the coach, despite it precluding another kiss with Lord Burnley, if one had been forthcoming.
With her maid slumped in the corner, apparently happy to close her eyes and nap, they sat in silence for what would have been a short ride home if not for the snarl of theatre traffic.
“My brother was there,” she mentioned after a few minutes.
“I like it when you speak without being asked,” Lord Burnley confessed in a low timbre.
Shivers traveled down Adelia’s spine. When she said nothing more, Lord Burnley stretched his legs out, his right one touching hers, and he responded to her words.
“Odd your brother didn’t come over to say hello. Perhaps he doesn’t approve of your being out with me.”
Adelia doubted that was the case. “Thomas might not have noticed us. I didn’t see him during intermission, nor after. Besides, he had a woman with him. Perhaps he wanted to keep her to himself.”
“Did you recognize her?”
“Not at all,” Adelia confessed, “and I thought I’d seen everyone this Season and the last. And the ones before that,” she added belatedly realizing that didn’t reflect well upon her. She clamped her mouth closed.
Normally, speaking so infrequently, her words rarely got her into trouble. Around Lord Burnley, however, she seemed to be almost a chatterbox.
He ignored anything untoward she had said about her many Seasons, instead asking, “Light or dark hair?”
