Page 18 of Marry in Scarlet
But the way he’d emerged from the shadowy corner of his box, that look in his eye—dripping with superiority. Standing there, looking down his long nose at her, so arrogant with thatI-rule-the-worldexpression. It had annoyed her from the very first time she’d met him, when he’d become betrothed to Rose.
Thank God that hadn’t worked out. She might have been related to him by now.
As soon as he’d stepped forward she realized that he’d been watching her for some time. She’d felt a prickle of awareness, but had told herself that of course somebody would be looking at her, that at the opera everybody looked at everyone else. But the faint, disturbing prickle hadn’t gone away.
She was a little bit embarrassed that she’d broken her fan on that other man, but he’d kept talking on and on loudly after she’d asked them several times to be quiet. And the fan was a delicate one, easily broken, so it hadn’t actually hurt him. Just made him realize she was serious.
But when the duke had picked it up, his long fingers playing with the broken ribs as he eyed her in that knowing way... And then when he’d refused to give it back to her, sliding it into his pocket as though he had every right to keep it—and what would he want with a lady’s fan, let alone a broken one?—it was a move calculated to spark her temper. And then, to insult the performers...
When her temper rose, her tongue loosened. Perhaps she had gone a bit far, speaking like that to a man she barelyknew, and in public, but it was true—men like the duke did assume the world was theirs to rule, that nobody else mattered. But other peopledidmatter.
That faint, mocking smile, that knowing glint in his eye, that ironic lift of his eyebrow—just one brow—she couldn’t say why it was all so annoying, only that it was. And to call the glorious singing caterwauling...
He’d deserved it.
“Oh, Aggie, stop ranting at the gel,” Aunt Dottie interjected. “What’s done is done, and if you want my opinion, it won’t hurt those boys to have heard a few home truths.”
“Those boys? We’re talking about the duke, not those other ones—though she shouldn’t speak like that to any gentleman. And as for home truths—she mortally insulted him, or did you not hear it?”
“I heard every word. But that duke—handsome, brooding devil that he is. I do like a bit of arrogance when it’s deserved, and I suspect in his case it is. The man has potential, but it won’t hurt him to be taken down a peg or two.”
“Potential? He’sa duke!”
“Yes, dear, I noticed, but he’s also just a man, and a man, as dear George pointed out, who has no doubt been indulged and spoiled and pampered all his life. I’ve never had any time for that silly mother of his.”
“The duchess is a friend of mine,” Aunt Agatha said stiffly.
“Yes, I know, strange as it is. Can’t think what you see in her, Aggie—and, yes, I know she’s your goddaughter but you needn’t be friends with a goddaughter—but of course, she’s a duchess, so of course you’re friends.”
Aunt Agatha made an offended huffing noise and stared out the window for a minute or two. Aunt Dottie glanced at George and winked. George grinned back at her.
Aunt Agatha thought of another grievance. “And that reminds me, Dorothea. What did you say to the duke as we were leaving?”
Aunt Dottie smiled. “I reminded him about our ball, of course—Rose did give him an invitation, didn’t she, George?”
“Yes,” George said. “In person.” He hadn’t exactly received it with pleasure. His response at the time had been scathing. She’d added her own mite:If you came, you could demonstrate to the ton your supreme indifference. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?He’d ignored her, acted as if she wasn’t even in the room.
“Of all the foolish things,” Aunt Agatha snapped. “Of course he won’t come to the ball. Why would he court humiliation? Attend a ball that was to have been his own wedding ball and is now to celebrate Rose’s hole-in-the-corner marriage to a nobody? Ridiculous!”
“That boy will surprise you,” Aunt Dottie said tranquilly.
“Which one?” George asked.
“Both of them, I hope. Rose’s husband is a dark horse, and the duke is a dark horse of a different color.” She clapped her hands. “All these lovely handsome young men. I’m so looking forward to the ball.”
Aunt Agatha snorted.
Chapter Five
Surprises are foolish things. The pleasure is not enhanced, and the inconvenience is often considerable.
—JANE AUSTEN,EMMA
Several evenings later, Sinc called in at Everingham House to collect Hart for a card night out with friends.
“Won’t be a minute,” Hart told him, shuffling through a pile of invitation cards. “Just need to get this off. Help yourself to a drink if you want one.”
Sinc sauntered over to the bottles and decanters set out on a side table and with comfortable familiarity helped himself. “What is it?”
