Ah, yes. There it was—the flush of shame she’d hoped for.
But oddly, it didn’t make her feel any better.
Chapter Six
Charlotte edged a black-silk covered finger under the amethyst choker around her neck. It was one of her favorite pieces, but tonight it felt like a fist wrapped around her throat. The blasted thing was too tight, the jewels too heavy. To make matters worse, Sarah had tugged at her stays with ruthless zeal, as if she believed tight stays could contain Charlotte’s wickedness.
Dear, foolish old thing.
Charlotte reached behind her neck and released the clasp. The heavy choker fell into her palm in a pile of glittering purple stones, and she tossed it into her reticule. Ah, much better. If she could fit her corset in there, she’d shove that in as well, but as it was she’d have to make do without the use of her lungs tonight. A pity, for she’d quite like to be able to breathe when she faced thetonthis evening.
Once she stepped into her box, every head would turn in her direction. Every eye would fix upon her, silence would reign for one awful moment as every conversation ceased. Then the whispers would begin, just as they always did. Before she’d even taken her seat, her name would be on the lips of every gossip in London.
In other words, it would be very much like every other night this season.
With one difference.Hewas here.
Well, what of it? She’d already surrendered Bedford Square to him. Surely she wasn’t about to give over Drury Lane, too?No. She would march into her box and take her proper place as society’s most notorious widow since Mrs. Fitzherbert. Perhaps she hadn’t set out at the start of the season to become a notorious widow, but she didn’t deny she’d earned those stares, those whispers. Scandal was a small enough price to pay for distractions that served her well.
Julian West could go to the devil, and the rest of thetonright along with him.
“For goodness’ sakes, Aurelie.” Lady Annabel’s voice carried into the hallway from Charlotte’s theater box. “You’ll give Lord Ambrose an apoplexy if you continue to lean over the edge of the box in that lewd manner. He’s staring so intently at your bosom he’ll need a surgeon to remove his opera glass from his eye socket.”
Aurelie gave a Gallic sniff. “He’s the lewd one, not I, darling. It’s nothing to do with me if he chooses to behave like an over-eager stallion. Let him stare.”
Charlotte tiptoed closer to the entrance to her box, a grin curving her lips. Thetonmight gawk and shake their heads over her tonight, but that was no reason to hover here in the corridor like a timid rabbit. She wouldn’t have to suffer the stares alone. Her friends were waiting for her.
The wicked widows had arrived.
“I don’t believe Lady Ambrose is as understanding as you are, Aurelie,” Lissie said, a laugh in her voice. “She looks ready to do him an injury.”
Lady Annabel snickered. “Only because he doesn’t stare atherbosom. At least, not with such pointed admiration.”
“Well, my dear,” Aurelie drawled. “Can you blame him?”
“If one can judge by the look on Lady Ambrose’s face,” Lissie said, “He’ll need a surgeon no matter what Aurelie does. Carry on, my dear Aurelie.”
“I shall, indeed.”
Charlotte swept into the box in a rustle of dark purple silk, her chin high. “Bosoms and surgeons already, ladies? The first act hasn’t even begun.”
Lady Annabel turned to her with a smile. “Ah, Charlotte. There you are. I thought perhaps you’d changed your mind and joined your sister in her box, after all.”
“What, and forgo the pleasure of being gawked at by Lord Ambrose? Oh, good heavens, no. Besides, there’s no room for me in Ellie’s box tonight.”
Or any other night while Julian remained in London.
Aurelie lifted the glass to her eyes and pointed it in the direction of Cam and Ellie’s box. “It does look as if the whole of London is in your sister’s box, Charlotte.Mon dieu, there are a great many Sutherlands, Somersets, and Wests, are there not?”
Lady Annabel raised a delicate blond eyebrow. “Yes, and bound to be more every year, for they keep multiplying. It’s almost indecent, but one can hardly blame the ladies. The Sutherland gentlemen are rather devastating. Don’t you think so, Lissie? And Mr. West is delicious—”
She was interrupted by an excited cry from Aurelie. “Indeed, my dears,bothMr. Wests are delicious! But I think you already know that, don’t you,ma petite?” She gave Charlotte an impish grin.
“What other Mr. West?” Lissie asked. “Oh my goodness, you don’t mean—”
“Captain Julian West.” Charlotte sank into her chair and twitched her skirts into place around her. “Yes, yes—that’s what she means, Lissie. For goodness’ sake, Aurelie. Stop staring at him.”
Lissie’s eyes widened. “What, the gallant Captain West? Why, they’ve been raving about him in the papers. Something about how he single-handedly beat back three French dragoons and saved half his regiment.”
