Page 31 of Unmasking a Wicked Marquess
Is it her?
The thrill he had been thinking of, that longing desire, now filled his stomach, but then the lady was gone, and he could not be certain it was Juliet at all.
“Edward, dear.” Amelia elbowed him once more. “You are not listening. The ladies wish to know what you think of opera?”
Edward looked back at the ladies, seeing they had that same dewy look in all of their eyes, with fans fluttering madly and eyelashes being batted. His longing to run and flee from them grew even stronger now.
“The opera is enjoyable, though I have seen shows in Italy, of course, so I’m wondering how it will compare.”
“Oh, Italy!” one lady gushed.
“He is a well-travelled man,” another said.
“You must take your new bride to Italy sometime, My Lord,” one of the mothers urged him. “Or … have you not chosen a bride yet?”
“A bride?” Edward repeated in astonishment, to which his mother laughed softly and waved at him.
“My son is yet to pick his wife.” At her words, all the ladies stood taller, started arguing over room and tried to elbow each other out of the way in the politest manner. One lady stood on another’s foot, though she tried to cover it up with a sickly-sweet smile.
“If you would excuse me,” Edward said with a deep bow, “I have seen a friend I must greet.”
Amelia’s smiled dropped from her cheeks.
“Edward –”
“I shall join you soon, Mother.” He moved away quickly before his mother could invent a reason for him to stay. He walked through the crowds, craning his neck back and forth as he searched for the cascading curls of auburn hair once more. He saw briefly gentlemen of his acquittance, and they waved and nodded at one another, though he did not stop for conversation.
When he saw her, Edward was so shocked to at last find her that he practically tripped over his own feet. He put his body behind one of the marble pillars at the side of the foyer, using its cover as a chance to stare at her openly without being observed.
Juliet was with her sister and another gentleman, who, judging by the way he had hold of Lady Violet’s hand, had to be her husband. Lady Violet and her husband were enamoured in conversation with one another, but Juliet was looking through the crowds instead. She turned her head back and forth, her unusually purple eyes restlessly moving.
Is she looking for me?
Her lips parted and closed as she searched, and his eyes dwelled on those lips, thinking of the one kiss he had shared with her that evening at the masquerade ball. How he longed to relive that moment, to capture her lips again, to kiss her and feel that thrill, only this time, not to pull back so fast.
Across the opera house, he heard the gaggle of ladies cackling, and he glanced towards them resentfully. He had no wish to spend an evening in the company of a lady who only looked at him for his title and the money he brought with him. In contrast, Juliet had looked at him and kissed him because she likedhim.
To show how much she had not been seeking out his fortune, when she had discovered his name and would have known automatically he was the heir to a dukedom, she had run from him. She had hardly stayed and pursued him. He needed no more certainty that Juliet wasn’t a fortune hunter.
He stepped out from the cover of the pillar, not thinking through his actions but being filled with a determination to talk to her again, no matter how difficult.
She turned away from her sister and brother-in-law, who were absorbed in conversation, and snatched up a glass from a passing server who carried a tray of drinks. As she picked up the glass, Edward paused at her side and collected his own glass, using the opportunity to come closer to her.
“Good evening,” he whispered. She turned towards him, gasped, and dropped the glass. He managed to catch it by the spindle only because he was ready for her shock. She said nothing as she stared at him, those violet eyes wide and gazing at him. “You going to run from me again?” he asked.
“I … Oh, what are you doing?” she hissed in panic, glancing back at her sister, who still hadn’t noticed the pair of them together.
“I wish I had an explanation, but I don’t. Let us put it like this. I cannot stay away.” His deepened voice made her jerk her head back towards him. Her lips formed a perfect ‘o’ shape of amazement, but she said nothing more. “Half an hour into the performance, meet me in the corridor that leads to the privy. There is an alcove there behind a statue of a former singer here. We can talk in private there.”
He feared her saying no, of her throwing the contents of her glass in his face as he handed her the glass back, but she didn’t. Instead, their fingers brushed on the glass, and such a heat passed through him that he smiled as he stared at her. She let her fingers linger and didn’t pull back from him.
“I shall see you there.” He turned and walked away before anyone could see them talking together.
***
“Juliet? Are you ready? It’s time to go in.” Violet took Juliet’s arm and steered her through the foyer towards the doors.
Juliet struggled to follow, glancing over her shoulder as she realized what had just happened. She was staring at Lord Ashton as he returned to stand with his mother and was surrounded by a group of ladies. When he smiled at the ladies, such jealousy shot through Juliet that she felt sick.
