He pulled her into a smaller room, trapping her between his arms and the wall. “Why, Celeste?”
She sucked in her breath and desire unfurled between them. Conflicting emotions raged in him—fury that he still felt so strongly for her and euphoria to be close to her again. His lips trailed along her jawline. “Leave him.”
Their lips found each other, and he kissed her slowly, wanting to savor the feel of her mouth against his. Celeste couldn’t feel these same emotions with Fitzsimmons. Caleb refused to believe it. She leaned into him, but as his hand slid down her waist, she gasped and pushed him away.
“We have to stop,” Celeste insisted.
“Is the man in your box Fitzsimmons?”
Anger coursed through him, and he demanded again. “Is it?”
“No!” she snapped, stepping further away.
He ran a hand through his hair, looking around. Christ, they were in some type of large closet. What was he doing?
“I have to go.”
“Caleb,” she said.
He stopped, his heart pounding. Hope flared in him, and he turned. She said, “Lord Burrows isn’t a good person.”
The fury in him flared again. “What?”
She swallowed. “He isn’t a good person.”
He stalked back to her. “Who are you to judge others, Celeste? You used me.”
“I didn’t—”
“You did,” he interrupted.
Her lower lip trembled, and he reminded himself that this woman was attached to another man. One who didn’t bother to escort her to any events, it seemed. She deserved more, and it infuriated him.
“I have to go. Don’t worry about me or who I associate with. I’ve moved on, and you should as well.”
He forced himself to ignore the stricken look on her face. She’d chosen someone else over him, and he suspected it was all because he was the Marquess of Haven. He had half the ladies of London throwing themselves at him, but he couldn’t have her. It infuriated Caleb.
***
Celeste took a deep breath, her heart racing. It took everything in her not to race after Caleb and tell him that Heathcliff Fitzsimmons, the Second, wasn’t real, or she supposed he was, but not human. She’d missed Caleb over the last three months.
Still, she didn’t regret sending him on his way. He’d become the talk of London. He would be married to a proper lady who wanted to be an ornament on his arm. She wouldn’tdo that. Celeste closed her eyes, hating the pain that sliced through her. He’d been escorting Lord Burrows’ daughter, her half-sister.
She’d wanted to scream at Caleb that he was a fool if he thought Lord Burrows was someone he should associate with. Celeste couldn’t tell him that, though. She’d never revealed to anyone her connection with the older lord. Devons and Derry may suspect who her father was, but she’d never confirmed it. Certain he was finally gone, she left the small room and made her way back to Devons’ box. Diana and Devons both frowned at her with concern.
She sat and, unable to stop herself, Celeste perused the family who had never claimed her. Her father had married ten years after she was born and now had a daughter and a son. She’d heard the son was away on some type of grand tour. Her eyes roamed over Lady Eloise, and pain pierced her heart. How badly had she wanted a sister as a child? She swallowed back the lump in her throat.
Her eyes landed on her father’s wife. She did a great deal of work with those in need. Celeste wondered if Burrows had ever told his wife about her. Her eyes connected with harsh blue ones, and she realized that her father’s mother, the Dowager Lady Burrows, was watching her. Celeste yanked her gaze away. Once when she’d delivered a letter to Burrows, she’d caught the woman sneering at her from a window.
The hate emanating from her caused her to shiver. She forced herself to focus on the stage and the opera. Both her business partner and his wife kept whispering and glancing back at her. Celeste would leave at the intermission. Her gaze went back to Lord Burrows’ box, and her stomach clenched as she saw Lady Eloise smile sweetly at something Caleb said. He couldn’t choose her. There were so many ladies available. Please let her not be his pick, she silently pleaded.
Finally, the curtain went down for the intermission, and she stood. Diana looped her arm through Lord Tillerson's; the man Caleb had thought was Fitzsimmons. Devons held his arm out to her, and she rolled her eyes. The man, while a dear friend, was a nuisance. They made their way to the area where champagne was being handed out.
“What is going on?” he asked.
She shook her head, not wanting to discuss it. He leaned in and said, “Celeste, you left, and then Lord Haven departed his box. I don’t care about your relationship, but I need to know if he hurt you.”
She looked at him in shock. “No. He would never.”
