“My husband is expected at the Austrian ambassador’s musical evening that night, I’m afraid,” Lucy said.
“The intrepid Sir Robert Benson. Of course,” Grimsley said. All of London knew Rob provided discreet security to foreign ambassadors. Most didn’t allude to it, working for wages being distasteful at best to much of society. “Perhaps we’ll meet another time, dear lady.” That time, his gaze never left Fanny.
The earl walked back to his horse, caught his companion’s eyes, and turned as if on a sudden thought. “Do you enjoy the theater?” he asked.
“I’ve never been to the theater,” Fanny replied, longing clear in her tone of voice.
“I have a box for the season,” he said. “Rob Roycontinues its run. I invite you to be my guest when it is convenient.”
“Isn’t that one of Sir Walter Scott’s novels?” Fanny asked, her interest obvious.
He smiled. “The play is indeed based on the book.” To the group at large, he said, “I invite all of you, of course, even the sober Mr. Benson.”
If he expected Eli to produce a smile at that, he was well out of luck. All Eli wanted was to get Fanny, get all of them, out of the park and into the Benson carriage.
The ladies murmured polite gratitude, however, and the earl said, “Shall we say Saturday?”
Lucy agreed on Fanny’s behalf, but Maddy demurred, claiming she had seen it already. Grimsley rejoined his companion—Eli judged the other man to be a secretary or assistant of some sort—and rode off while Eli resigned himself to a tedious evening. If Fanny planned to go to the theater with this man, Eli intended to be with her.
