Langford realized he had commanded Eric’s attention. With a wide sweep of his arm, he pointed to his right. He clearly wanted Eric to look there. To do so would mean getting up and walking to the balustrade and hanging over like Langford. Eric had no intention of doing any of that. He closed his eyes and gave himself over to the music.
Five minutes later, a firm hand jostled him. He opened his eyes to see Langford hovering above, looking exasperated.
“Did you not see my direction?”
“I did. Whatever you thought I needed to see is not of interest. I don’t care if some woman arrived half naked, or if some idiot is falling down drunk. I only want peace.”
“You want to see this, I promise you.”
“No, I do not.”
A firm hand grasped his shoulder. “Come with me.”
He followed. Langford was easily amused and had probably seen some outrageous gown. He also was a gossip, so it might be unexpected evidence of a liaison that would set tongues wagging. Whatever it was would not be worth the bother.
He trailed Langford to the door to another box. Stratton’s box. “Unless Stratton has grown two heads, there is no drama in there.”
“You would think not, but wait.” Langford opened the door to present the box.
The very crowded box. So crowded that Stratton appeared annoyed. His duchess kept smiling at her visitors, but she also looked dismayed.
Stratton saw them and pushed his way to the back of the box. He shook his shoulders as if he needed to resettle his coat. “Hell of a thing. We were planning a quiet night and this is what happened.”
Eric peered through the dim light at the faces. Men, almost all of them. He knew most of their names, but a few he did not recognize. Bright-eyed and gracious, they all kept their attention settled on the front of the box and the duchess.
The duchess turned to speak to her companion. That other woman turned her face. Eric understood why Langford had dragged him here.
Miss MacCallum sat beside the duchess. And Miss MacCallum was the object of all the attention.
“What is she doing here?” he asked Stratton.
“Clara invited her. She doubts the woman enjoys much entertainment and wanted to treat her.”
“More likely she has heard the truth about that legacy and wanted the whole story. The gentlemen all know most of it already, that is clear.” Langford gestured to the men angling to get an introduction from the duchess to Miss MacCallum. “Nothing like a woman of property to draw the admiration of the younger sons.”
“She is not a woman of property,” Eric corrected.
“Of course not,” Stratton soothed.
“She, however, does have expectations,” Langford added. He surveyed the little scene with what looked suspiciously like pleasure.
“Very small expectations,” Eric said. “A gnat’s worth at most.”
“That does not seem to be the general opinion, from the look of it.”
No, it didn’t. The popinjays were out in force. Miss MacCallum did not even look surprised. With her damnable self-possession, she chatted and smiled as if she had expected this to happen.
Hell if he intended to watch. He decided to leave, only just as he was about to, the duchess saw him. Her gaze locked onto his. Her smile turned brittle. Her eyes narrowed and darkened. She beckoned him with her finger.
“It looks as if Clara wants to talk to you,” Stratton said blandly, as if he did not know better than anyone that when Clara had that look in her eyes, even brave men sought shelter.
“I’ll be your shield if you want to retreat,” Langford said. “Or even when you advance. Yes, I think it would be best if I stand right beside you and try to distract her with flattery and such.”
Stifling a heartfelt sigh, Eric made his way to the duchess and Miss MacCallum.
A fan smacked his chest as soon as he stepped close. Langford, good to his role, stepped quickly so no one else saw.
“You deceived me,” the duchess said.
