Page 32 of A Virgin for the Duke of Depravity
Theresa gave a low laugh. “It was an adjustment after life at the convent. You could call this home as I do. A marriage of convenience might not?—”
“I cannot allow him to find me,” Margaret cut her off.
She could not entertain the idea that a man from London would earn her hand in such a way, buying her at auction like a prize heifer. Margaret would not be a pawn in whatever game her grandfather had in mind.
“I merely mean that it may bring you happiness.” Theresa rubbed her stomach thoughtfully. “I had not thought that I would be able to leave the convent when my mother arrived, nor did I envision having a sister. Or a husband.”
Leo came to take his seat. The Duke of Hiverville found his seat a couple of rows back from theirs.
“The play shall begin shortly, My Lady,” Leo said.
The black curtain fluttered. But Margaret could not ignore the feeling that something was wrong. The small hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. It felt like Mother Superior’s disapproving gaze, but it was worse somehow. Like a predator’s stare or a judge about to pass sentence.
She chanced a glance to her right. Several rows behind them, she saw her grandfather looking back at her.
Her stomach felt as though it had filled with ice, tumbling around in her body as if she were in freefall. His cold blue eyes pinned her in place, and she found that she could not look away. Her breathing quickened to match the pounding of her heart.
He narrowed his eyes on her as she stared back at him, as if daring her to keep defying him. She did not take the bait. She tore her gaze away from him and tried to consider her options.
Fear heightened her awareness. She took in his belly and realized that she only had one option.
Surely, he could not catch me if I ran.
The only thing she could remember was her father’s voice.
“Run…”he echoed inside her head.
“I am not feeling well,” she said abruptly, rising from her seat.
“What is wrong, My Lady?” Leo asked as he reached for her.
She only shook her head. She could not answer him.
She edged her way out of the private box and hurried toward the exit. The crowds were pushing through the doors of the opera house, trying to get in before the play started. Margaret was a fish swimming upstream.
Once she burst into the evening air, she paused to catch her breath, but her lungs refused to expand. She placed one hand on her chest, where her heart was pounding so hard that she was sure everyone could hear it. Big gulps of air eventually filled her lungs, but she felt no sense of calm.
What if he followed her out?
What would she do if he cornered her?
There were no book clubs for her to escape to, and she did not know this part of the city. She scanned the horizon, trying to form a plan to escape without having to involve her friends.
She would not let Theresa get swept up in whatever the Earl had planned for her. She would not give her grandfather the chance to exact revenge when Theresa had found her happiness in London.
“Margaret.”
At the sound of her name, she pivoted and scanned the crowds frantically. She spotted Leo, the crowds parting around him as he walked toward her.
“Come this way.”
He led her back to the stables, where she dove into their carriage without a second thought. The carriage would shelter her from the prying eyes of the operagoers, and it would be the last place her grandfather would look.
Leo sat beside her and waited patiently for her to catch her breath. When her breathing returned to normal, Margaret realized that he had saved her once again. She realized that he was holding up his end of the deal, that he was protecting her from something he was not even aware of.
Maybe there was a way she could thank him for his services.
Tentatively, she leaned toward him. When Leo did not rebuff her attempt at closeness, she grew bolder. She tilted her head and pressed her lips to his just as he had done to her the night before.
