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She departed without another word, the rustle of her emerald skirts the sole sound remaining in the box. Adelaide sat motionless, her hands folded in her lap as she watched the doorway.
"Julian," she said softly.
"Yes?"
"That was remarkably noble."
He turned to her, the sternness in his expression softening. "She was unforgivably rude."
"She was. Yet you need not have defended me so fiercely."
"I needed to do precisely that." He resumed his seat, moving his chair closer to hers. "No one speaks to my wife in that manner—not in my presence, nor my absence."
Adelaide looked at him. The wall sconce illuminated the silver at his temples as his blue-gray eyes met hers with an intensity that caused her to forget the bustling theater beyond.
"Thank you," she said quietly.
"You need not thank me for defending what is mine."
The word lingered—mine. She had little opportunity to absorb its weight before the house lights began to dim. The hum of the audience subsided as the heavy curtain rose.
Julian leaned close, his shoulder pressing against hers. "I witnessed this same opera in Vienna," he murmured, his breath warm near her ear. "The grand overture never fails to stir the spirit. Listen."
The orchestra surged into motion, the stage filling with light and dramatic action as Don Giovanni strode onto the boards. Adelaide watched the performance, yet her awareness of Julian's proximity—the solid warmth of his arm and the subtle scent of cedar and soap—monopolized her attention.
The first act passed in a vivid blur of music and shared awareness. When intermission arrived and the house lights lifted, Julian turned to her.
"You are remarkably quiet."
"I am listening."
"To the performance?"
"To everything," she looked at him directly. "You need not worry that Lady Carlisle's remark unsettled me."
"I am not worried; I am instructing you not to let it."
"Those represent distinct sentiments."
"In what manner?"
"One represents concern, while the other constitutes instruction." She tilted her head with a faint smile. "I prefer concern."
"Very well. I am concerned—deeply so."
"How reassuring."
His mouth curved into a subtle smile. "Does it help if I assure you that society's superficial charm has never impressed me?"
"Society's charm has never dazzled me either." She picked up her fan from the rail, turning it between her fingers. "There is far more to existence than the opinions of the ton."
"Such as?"
"Botany, natural history, the accurate classification of juniper species, and the proper southern approach to Xanthos," she offered a quiet, genuine smile. "You."
Julian stilled. The admission hung between them, honest and unguarded.
"Adelaide."
