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Not with him, as it happened.

Apollo raised a brow at her, draping the towel about his shoulders. “Thank you for this, madam. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I truly must go. I’ve a nap awaiting me.”

He didn’t await her response before he strode away. He’d been horridly rude, but he didn’t care. It was the best means of getting his point across to the stubborn creature. There was only one woman he wanted, and she was like sunshine after a rainstorm to the senses. Ophelia couldn’t be more different from the cunning woman who had followed him to the grotto.

CHAPTER 7

Ophelia summoned a smile she didn’t feel as she stood at the front of the ballroom to announce the evening’s surprise entertainment. It was one that she had arranged herself, and she had been looking forward to the culmination of her efforts. But this was the longest she had ever gone without seeing her children, and all she felt inside was the ever-present threat that she might burst into tears at any moment.

There was a curtain behind her hiding scantily clad and nude actors and actresses about to regale the assemblage with their skill. Ophelia herself was dressed in the finest evening gown she had brought to Wingfield Hall. The eyes of the houseguests were fixed upon her. But all she could think about were her son and daughter.

Now is not the time to indulge in maudlin sentiment, she chastised herself sternly.

“Fellow houseguests,” Ophelia announced, “the theatrics you are about to enjoy are quite extraordinary. I can truly say that I’ve not seen anything quite like them anywhere else.”

She paused to allow her audience to chatter amongst themselves, guessing at what she had planned.

“I know you are eager for them to begin,” she continued, “as am I. This evening’s tableau vivants all contain poses plastiques. Without further ado, I present to you Diana the Huntress.”

She hastened to the side, taking her seat just as the curtain shifted and finally gave way, revealing a nearly nude actress depicting the goddess of the hunt, her bow drawn and at the ready. With a look of utter poise, and skin covered completely in makeup that made her look as if she had been carved from marble, the actress may have been a statue, so still was she.

Ophelia listened to the chorus of amazed gasps that went up around her and tried to take an interest in the impressive skill of the actress as she remained still, her face devoid of expression.

“This was truly well done of you,” Theodora said sotto voce at her side.

Theodora had insisted upon being seated together for the evening’s entertainment. Too weary from all the tasks that had burdened her that afternoon—the arrival of the acting troupe, making certain everyone was taken to the proper room and that dinner was delivered at the specified time, just among a few—she had surrendered and agreed.

“Thank you,” she said, unable to squelch a wistful smile as she wondered what Catherine and Reggie were doing now. Were they sleeping? Listening to a story told to them by their nursemaid?

Did they miss her?

She settled a hand over her chest at the notion and resulting pang in her heart.

“I will own that I am surprised, however,” Theodora continued.

“I rather thought the company would appreciate a scandalous tableau vivants,” she defended herself.

“Of course they do, but that is the problem, isn’t it?” Theodora gave her a placating smile. “Oh, my poor dear girl. You really haven’t any notion, do you?”

“No notion of what?” she asked, perplexed.

“That beautiful actress up there.” Theodora nodded with her head toward the woman who was fully in costume as Diana, the goddess of the hunt. “She is Mrs. Gilpin, quite famed for her work on the stage and for the wild love affair she indulged in with the Duke of Prestwick.”

Ophelia stiffened at once. “Why should I concern myself with the affairs of the duke?”

“Because he is in attendance at this house party,” Theodora explained, eyes wide. “Because he is the man you had a private dinner with last night.”

So, Theodora knew.

Ophelia had begun to suspect the other woman had detected who was hiding behind Prestwick’s mask. But this was confirmation.

She understood at once that it wouldn’t behoove her to reveal to Theodora that she had already known as well, so she feigned ignorance.

“He is?”

The other woman’s eyes narrowed on her. “Don’t be silly. Of course he is. I assumed you knew. The two of you seemed rather familiar.”

“We aren’t,” she denied quickly.