Page 42 of The Study of Seduction
She tore her gaze from his and tried to concentrate on the performances. But it was impossible. Because of the extra people in the box, they’d had to bring in more chairs and pull them closer together, so Edwin’s leg lay snug up against hers from thigh to calf.
Did he realize it? If it had been any other man, she would have assumed that he did, but with Edwin, it was impossible to know. The man was so impenetrable, he could out-riddle the Sphinx.
Whatever the reason, the sensation of having his leg pressed against hers felt much too intimate for the theater. Much too intimate for anywhere.
How ridiculous. It was only a leg—everyone had them. So why was her blood rustling through her veins like a tiger stirring in deep grasses? Why was her breath coming in hard hitches?
She drew her leg casually away from his. She was just overly aware of him tonight because of Count Durand. Thanks to the Frenchman, Edwin would once again have to be jilted, and she hated that.
The second hour ofOlympic Revelsended after what seemed like an eternity. But even as Edwin rose and asked her, “Would you like to go downstairs to view the renovations to the lobby?” a knock came at the door.
When it was opened, the same servant entered who’d escorted them to the box earlier. He bowed to Edwin. “My lord, Madame Vestris sent me to ask if you and your two guests would wish to pay her a visit in her dressing room.”
Clarissa drew in a sharp breath. That was a distinct honor.
Edwin seemed conscious of it, too, for he lifted an eyebrow at her. “Well?”
“Do you really need to ask? OfcourseI wish to go!” She could meet Madame Vestrisandescape the count.
She turned to her mother, who was busily chatting with her friends about wedding plans. “Mama, do you want to join me and Edwin? Madame Vestris has invited us to her dressing room.”
“That ismostkind of her,” Mama said. “Though you know I cannot go. All that tramping up and down stairs is too hard on my poor hip. But I realize that you admire the woman, so you should visit her.” Mama’s gaze lighted briefly on the count. “And now that you and Edwin are betrothed, well . . . I do believe it would be all right for me to remain here and entertain our guests.”
Clarissa fought to hide her relief that Mama was staying behind. Perhaps she could keep the count from dogging their steps, and that would give Clarissa a chance to speak privately to Edwin. “Yes, I’m sure it would be considered quite respectable,” Clarissa said, though she wasn’t sure of any such thing.
And one glance at Durand showed he was none too happy about her and Edwin going off together. That alone made her determined to do it.
Her mother smiled. “But do tell Madame Vestris how pleased I am that we could come and see her newly appointed theater.”
“Yes, Mama.”
As Clarissa and Edwin followed the servant to the door, her mother called out, “Oh, and tell her how much I’m enjoying the burlesque.”
“Of course,” Clarissa said.
They were nearly into the hall when her mother’s voice wafted to her. “And ask her to sign a playbill for me!”
“I will! We’re going now!” Clarissa called back.
As she shut the door firmly, the servant paused. “Are you sure her ladyship does not wish to join us?”
“We’re sure,” Edwin answered.
His rumble of a voice made her heart skip. Just a little, mind. Nothing unsettling.
No, the unsettling part was how easily he guided her through the crowded passageways. For a man who wasn’t good with people, he certainly knew how to maneuver around them.
Twice, he laid his hand in the small of her back to steer her, and she felt the heat of it like a brand. Once, he even tugged her close to prevent her being run down by a rushing maid, and Clarissa stumbled against him, forcing him to steady her with both hands on her waist.
“All right?” he asked, his gaze playing over her as if checking for injuries.
She nodded.
But she wasn’t all right. This night had thrown her into turmoil. First Durand’s deliberate meddling and now Edwin’s disturbing effect on her. She truly didn’t know what to think or how to act.
As the servant boy led them through a warren of passageways to the backstage area of the theater, she wished she could just pull Edwin into a nearby room and discuss their increasingly precarious situation. But Madame Vestris was waiting, and Clarissa didn’t mean to lose her chance to meet the famous actress.
Besides, she was curious about Edwin’s friendship with the woman. He hadn’t yet explained why he’d been asked to invest in the theater in the first place. If they had only been friends in childhood . . .
