Page 46 of Taken By the Duke of Stone

The woman ran a scrutinizing eye down her body and then nodded as if the girl had passed some test she hadn't even been aware she had taken.

"Your Graces," the women chorused.

"We are honored by your invitation," Lady Hartfield smiled politely.

"Hmm," the Duke's mother made a sound in her throat and then fixed her gaze pointedly on the passing scenery.

Lavinia ignored her in favor of admiring the man before her. He looked extra fine in his dark tail coat, the white cravat gleaming at his throat.

"Miss Proctor, Lady Hartfield, we're pleased to have you."

She raised a brow at him, telling him quite clearly that it was obvious the dowager did not share his pleasure at hosting them.

He only shrugged, clearly unbothered by his mother's opinion.

She had crossed past the Opera building countless times but that was the first time she was stepping foot inside the structure. Every inch of it gleamed and sparkled, chandeliers and red carpets lining the hallways.

The place was both tasteful and ostentatious, clearly intended for the upper echelon of the society.

She hadn't know what she had been expecting, but it felt very much like a stuffy ballroom as people noticed their arrival right and began to approach them for introductions.

"This is Lady Hartfield and her niece, Miss Proctor," Victor said for the umpteenth time as an older couple in tow with their perfect blonde daughter came over to greet the Wylds.

The blonde girl stared down at Lavinia from under her nose with so much derision that she had to wonder if they had had an encounter prior to that meeting.

"This is the Earl of Langham and his Countess, and their daughter, Lady Amelia."

"How do you do?" Lady Hartfield said kindly.

Lavinia did her best to pretend like she couldn't feel the younger woman's hatred filled stare, affecting a placid expression and looking anywhere but at the girl.

It turned out to be the same with the other ladies and she quickly caught on that her association with the Duke had made her an object of envy and consequently hatred. As far as she was concerned, she hadn't snatched him away from any other of the ladies and his affections hadn't been otherwise engaged when she had met him.

"You must join us in our box," the Dowager Duchess told the Earl.

"I'm afraid we must decline," the Countess said with a chuckle, "We are expecting a guest, some other time, perhaps."

"Of course."

Lavinia had never been so glad to hear someone refuse an offer. She could only wonder how uncomfortable they would have been.

After what felt like forever, they finally moved into the dome like space of the Opera. It was even more elegant than the outside and it was packed full.

The Wyld's box was located at a prime position at the very top of the room, directly beside the royal box. Even though the Queen's box was empty, it was the closest Lavinia had ever been to royalty.

"It's beautiful," she whispered, marveling at the sea of people beneath them. Different colors assaulted her eyes from every direction and she sat at the edge of her seat in wonder.

The lights went off and the noise tapered off as everybody settled into their seats. You could hear a pin drop as the curtain on the stage slid open and the first singer took to stage. A dark haired woman in a black dress and a fierce expression.

Her voice rose up and tore through the room with such power that Lavinia was left in shock.

"I did not know such feats were even capable," she told the man beside her, "It is no wonder my parents adored the Opera."

"They did?"

She nodded, "Lady Hartfield has told me a lot about them. I do not remember them much. I was no older than three when they passed in a carriage accident."

"Have you lived with the Hartfield's since then?"

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