Page 26 of A Gamble with the Rakish Duke
John did not seem affected by it.
“In fact, I have. She is a wonderful pianist, just like her late mother.”
Oliver’s grip on his wife’s arm tightened. She would not even fight him. She did pull away from him, making him wonder if John’s presence emboldened her. He thought it was proof that she was guilty of something.
“How long have you known each other?” he demanded.
“Enough to know that she can play well. I teach music, after all.” John glanced at him warily.
There was something in his eyes that Oliver could not read. He was certain the man had not seen anyone glance at him that way.
“You teach music and nothing else?” Oliver prodded, steam almost coming out of his ears.
“Nothing else,” John replied solemnly. “It is a good enough source of income for someone with no wife and children.”
Oliver tucked those details away for later. His wife had been thrilled to see another man—an unmarried, unattached man—at the opera.
Alexandra had originally wanted to go alone. She played the piano with passion, and the gentle-looking music teacher shared that passion. He might seem mild at the moment, but what was he like with Alexandra?
A muscle ticked in Oliver’s jaw, and the next words that John and Alexandra exchanged no longer registered. He put his hand on the small of her back and applied some pressure. He could swear he heard a soft whimper, but there was no complaint.
“I shall leave you to enjoy the rest of the opera and the evening, Your Graces.” John bowed politely. “I believe the next act is about to begin.”
“Will you be going back to company?” Alexandra asked.
Oliver’s lips thinned. Was his wife jealously wondering whether her former music teacher had come with a woman?
“My friend is waiting for me,” John answered, although a strange emotion laced his words.
It could not have been shame. Why would it be?
The music master seemed to be a little uneasy for once, and it gave Oliver some satisfaction. But as he watched his wife staring at John’s retreating figure with parted lips, another dark emotion reared its ugly head.
It was jealousy, was it not? Fierce and hot and overwhelming. Oliver was unfamiliar with the feeling, but it seemed clear as a cloudless sky that it was what was bothering him.
“You seemed familiar with him,” he remarked as casually as he could muster.
Alexandra blinked. Then, she finally turned her gaze back to him. “He was my music instructor. So, we worked closely together.”
“Worked closely together, you say?” he asked, twisting the words.
“Yes. Piano requires quite intensive practice, Your Grace.”
If she found his words offensive, she did not show it. There might have been a slight tremor in her fingers, but it could have been his imagination.
“Would I know what it is like to…work closelywith you, now that you are in London?” he asked, looking down at her with a raised eyebrow.
“Well, I suppose.”
“You sound uncertain.”
“Your Grace, remember that you’re the one who decided to leave me in a country house miles away from you.”
She was right. Oliver could have chosen to get to know her, but he had merely thought her a nuisance. If she had grown closer to other men, it would no longer be her fault. Not entirely, anyway.
He looked away from her, and the two returned to their box. Yet, the tension hung heavy between them.
At the moment, he did not feel like sitting close to her. He angled his body away from her as he watched the next act.
