Page 78 of A Stranger’s Kiss

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The dress felt as wonderful caressing her body as it looked in the mirror. The gold silk fell in soft folds, and the detailed stitching on the bodice glittered in the candlelight. Deborah had used gold thread. Olivia twirled in the mirror, feeling like a queen. Poor Deborah. If only she could enjoy this evening without the threat of blackmail hanging over her head—but then, with Lord Deveraux at her side, along with Mr. Timms and his men at the ready, perhaps soon, the blackmailer would be found.

She smoothed the skirt one last time, then hurried down the steps and into the parlor. At the door, she paused. The evening looked like so many others. Her father playing his piano, lost in his music, with Mrs. Lambert darning in her chair by the lamp.

“You look like a princess, lass,” Mrs. Lambert grinned, her mole hairs dancing in agreement.

With a smile, Olivia glided to her father and planted a kiss on the top of his head. This night, he merely smiled absently in return and continued to play. It was just as well. Why disturb him?

“Lord Blair awaits you in the shop,” Mrs. Lambert nodded toward the curtains.

His name made her pulse quicken, and with a quick nod of thanks, Olivia slipped from the parlor and into the shop. A single candle burned on the counter where Nicholas stood, dressed in black with a crisp white shirt, an elaborately tied gray cravat, and his black, silk-banded hat in his hands. The look in his eyes sent a tingle down the back of her neck.

“Come here, lass,” he invited, his voice low.

He caught her fingers as she joined him and dropped a kiss on her knuckles before lifting his hand above her head to twirl her around.

“Hold still, my love,” he whispered in her ear.

The coolness of a metal chain encircled her neck and she glanced down. A diamond pendant lay against her collarbone. “What is this?” she gasped.

“A gift.” He brushed his lips on the tender flesh beneath her ear. “Wed me.”

Olivia shot him a scowl. “Must you tease me so? Be serious, if only for this night.”

“I am serious.”

“Come now, Lord Blair, you’re a rake, and a man above my means.” She crossed to the hook and removed her pelisse and hat. Truly, it was a shame to cover the splendor of her dress, but it couldn’t be helped.

“Is this so wide a gulf you cannot cross?” he asked when she returned.

Olivia reached up and tweaked his nose. “Enough. No more foolishness.” Then, her lightheartedness faded away. “The blackmailer—”

“Will be caught,” he finished her sentence firmly.

She nodded.

“Then allow me?” He winged an arm.

He led her to his waiting carriage, but she was too excited to remember much of the drive. Everywhere she looked, gaily dressed men and women strolled toward the Theatre Royale. Before she knew it, Nicholas’s carriage joined the line of those dropping patrons at the opera house’s front entrance.

The Theatre Royale looked magnificent, living up to its name and more besides. Laughter and excitement filled the air. Women in their velvet, silk and satin evening gowns, with diamonds and other jewels glittering about their necks, milled about on the arms of elegantly clad men.

Olivia held her breath as Nicholas handed her down and escorted her to the top of the stairs. At the theatre door, she paused and looked behind her. Everywhere she turned, an array of color and lights met her eyes. It was an enchanted evening, indeed.

“Ah, Deborah,” Nicholas murmured at her side.

Olivia turned to see the duke’s carriage arrive at the bottom of the steps. The footman opened the door and Lord Deveraux emerged first to lift his hand and assist Deborah. She was beautiful, dressed in blue with sapphires glittering about her neck. The dark blue only served to accentuate her pale face, but as the future Duchess of Lennox, sapphires were a tradition she could not ignore.

Olivia held up her hand in greeting, then stopped in shock. Another man exited the carriage. The lamplight caught on the silver-streaked hair. Her grandfather. She watched him, unable to move.

“Do my eyes betray me?” Nicholas chuckled. “Is that truly the duke?”

His humorous words released her from her spell. “No doubt, he has come to judge me lacking,” she said.

Nicholas merely laughed and patted her hand.

Deborah arrived, once again looking like a nervous bird. “You look beautiful, Olivia,” she said.