Page 31 of To Pleasure a Prince
“Will understand,” she finished. Or at least she prayed he would.
Marcus’s gaze locked with hers, and a change came over his face that sent a delicious shiver along her nerves. His eyes smoldered with wanton promises, reminding her of their time in Lord Iversley’s study. When his hot gaze dropped to her mouth, she quickly averted her own gaze.
Lord, what had she agreed to? An opera box could be very intimate even with other people there, especially when the lights went down. She swallowed, nearly changing her mind, but she was no coward.
“Speaking of music,” Simon put in, “what did you think of Miss Tremaine’s harp-playing, Regina?”
“Oh, I didn’t hear it.” Too late she remembered why she’d missed that performance. “I…er…was…well…”
“I was showing her Iversley’s study,” Marcus put in.
Her gaze shot to him, but his expression was dark and unreadable in the dimness of the carriage lamps. Panic assailed her. Did he mean to ruin her, the fool? If he even hinted what the two of them had been doing—
“Iversley has quite an extensive collection of books that Regina wanted to see,” Marcus went on, flashing her a faint smile, “so I gave her the grand tour.”
Regina released her breath. Thank heaven the man hadsomesense.
Cicely had stiffened next to her, but Simon merely snorted. “Regina wanted to see books? I can’t imagine that. I’ve never even seen her crack a book open.”
“Haven’t you?” Marcus kept his gaze fixed on Regina’s face. “She seems far too clever to have avoided books all her life.”
Her heart fluttered. He actually thought she was “clever”?
No, of course not. By “clever,” he meant “calculating.” Marcus would never pay her a compliment.
“Oh, she’ll endure hearing a story read from time to time,” Simon said, “but Regina has little interest in things that can’t play for her, whirl her about the floor, drive her in the park, or take her shopping.”
Humiliation flooded her face with heat. Cicely laid a hand on her arm, but she shrugged it off, preparing to give her brother a sharp retort.
Marcus spoke first. “Your sister may not be the contemplative sort, but tonight has shown that she does have deeper interests. Like music, for example.”
She tensed and eyed him defiantly, daring him even to mention that horrible scene in the drawing room.
“She sings beautifully,” he went on, “and could clearly appreciate Louisa’s performance. And I’ve heard she plays the harp very well. I only regret I wasn’t able to hear her play tonight.”
She gaped at him. That was definitely a compliment. Apparently he could be a perfect gentleman when he wished. Astonishing.
Now that she considered it, why choose the opera, of all things, for them to attend? He didn’t seem the sort to enjoy opera, but she had mentioned enjoying it earlier. Could he actually be doing something to please her?
Or was this a trap? Lord, she never knew what to think. His mercurial moods would drive any reasonable woman daft. Marcus possessed several advantages—wealth, a title, a clever mind. He might attain a respectable position in society if he would only behave. So why did he persist in his boorish behavior, even in his sister’s presence?
The carriage slowed, and she glanced out the window to find that they’d arrived home. The gentlemen disembarked first, and Regina hung back so that Simon had to accompany Cicely up the stairs.
Leaving her to Marcus. With the lights from the Foxmoor town house behind him, his face was in shadow as he handed her down, but she could feel his sharp gaze on her, piercing her to her very soul. And when she took his arm, and they turned toward the stairs, her heart pounded. Even after all that had happened, he had this disturbing effect on her, as if she teetered on the edge of a cliff, and he merely waited to push her off.
Or catch her. She hadn’t decided which yet.
As they climbed the stairs, he murmured, “We can attend the opera another night if you prefer.”
“No, indeed,” she said lightly. “Then you’d accuse me of not holding up my end of our bargain.”
He shrugged. “If your brother isn’t going, then by the terms we set, you don’t have to go.”
Hearing it stated so baldly made her flinch. “So you don’t want me to go?”
“I didn’t say that.”
She hid her smile. “So youwantme to go.”
