Page 81 of One Night with an Earl

Her visit with Penelope’s soldier was still fresh in her mind. Life was fragile, as fragile as the doomed relationship between Penelope and an injured officer. Penelope could never be with the young lieutenant, but Ana’s situation was different. She didn’t seek marriage.

She sought a lover.

“How long until intermission?” Penelope asked.

It was a good question. Ana was beginning to feel restless in the private box. The play could last hours and go well into the late evening. “Hopefully soon.”

“Hush,” Lady Malvern admonished. “If you are to speak, then converse with Lord Drake. Your father is dominating him.”

Penelope rolled her eyes as soon as her mother turned away. “I feel bad for Father. Mother is going to scold him later.”

Ana could imagine the conversation there would be on the carriage ride home. Lord Malvern had perfected the art of ignoring his wife’s incessant complaining, while Ana, who hadn’t the talent of feigning “deafness,” would want to stuff her ears with cotton.

Suddenly, she longed for a moment alone with the earl.

But how? Her mind whirled with a way to send him a message.

Soon after, it was time for intermission. Without waiting for Lord Drake and Lord Malvern to offer to fetch refreshments for the ladies, Ana rose. “Please pardon me a moment.” She mumbled an excuse, then glanced at Oliver, hoped he understood her true intent, then hurried from the box.

She found a liveried servant in the vestibule, snatched a glass of wine from a tray, and swallowed a mouthful. After a minute passed and she did not see Oliver’s tall frame descend the stairs, she set the empty glass on a passing servant’s tray. Disappointment settled low in her stomach. Either he could not escape or her message wasn’t received.

Just as she headed back toward the staircase leading to the private boxes, a hand wrapped around her waist, pulled her to a solid chest, then steered her behind a column.

She knew who spoke before she turned. His voice, his essence was intimately familiar. “I’ve been waiting.”

“I had to detach myself from her ladyship. It wasn’t easy. For a moment, I was worried you’d left the theater.”

She turned to look up into Oliver’s eyes and smiled. “Don’t be ridiculous. It would cause a scene with the Malverns if I simply up and left.”

“Truth is I’m glad you made a quick escape from that box.”

“Oh? Why is that?”

“Because I cannot keep my hands from you.”

Her body ached to be closer. She boldly reached out to trail a finger down his sleeve. “Would it shock you if I said I’m glad to hear it?”

His nostrils flared. “Oh? Are my powers of persuasion that strong?”

“Perhaps,” she said. “Or perhaps I have realized the reward is worth the risk. I’m looking forward to tonight.” She licked her lips.

His gaze dropped to her mouth, and he looked like he was going to kiss her. “Good God, Ana. Are you trying to bring me to my knees?”

She pressed a hand against his chest where his heart beat strong beneath her palm. “I worry Lady Malvern will want to stay for the entire play and we will have less time together this evening.”

His dark eyes flashed with triumph. He dipped his head to nip her ear and whisper, “Not if I have any say. Now return to the box before I’m tempted to carry you away and ravish you now.”

…

Later that evening, Ana was restless and nervous. She counted the hours until the house was dark and quiet. She changed out of her drab, serviceable gown, then reached for a wool cloak on a hook in her wardrobe.

For once, she was grateful for the oversized cloak. Slipping out the servants’ entrance, she stepped into the gardens and covered her hair with the hood. A crescent moon was hidden behind the clouds, and the shadows of the hedges appeared like eerie specters. She opened the garden gate, and the squeak of the hinges made her cringe. She froze, the hair on her nape rising.

Silence greeted her.

She made her way to the street, then around the house toward the mews. Just as Oliver had promised, a dark, unmarked carriage waited.

The driver was on his perch. Before she reached the conveyance, a black-clad figure stepped out of the shadows.