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“I am now.”
The blatant flattery earned him a saucy smile.
Just then, she spied Miss Bidewell. Sweeping in, the woman took possession of Fairford’s arm. “There you are, my lord. I—oh! Lady Sabrina. I didn’t know you enjoyed the theater.”
“I’m here at my mother’s behest. While I can appreciate the skill of the performers, opera is her passion, not mine,” Sabrina replied, having quickly picked up on Fairford’s aversion to it.
Miss Bidewell sniffed in disdain. “I see. Then pray tell us, what is your passion?”
“I quite enjoy politics, philosophy, chess, and most literature,” Sabrina replied.
The other girl’s smile tightened, her eyes glittering with malice. “Yes, your love of books is well known.”
Sabrina knew she was expected to take umbrage at the blatant inference, but she refused to give the little serpent the satisfaction of seeing her react.
No woman with older sisters grew up without learning what to expect from a hostile rival. The proper way to counter an attack on one’s character was to gracefully redirect it back at the source. If she had earned a certain reputation for naughtiness, then she would bloody well use it to make her opponent appear a prudish bore!
“Oh, I’m not completely cerebral in nature,” she laughed mischievously. “I enjoy the outdoors well enough when the weather is fine. I am inordinately fond of gardening.” Here she paused for effect, looking her enemy directly in the eye. “Roses are my particular favorite,” she added. “Although, I admit the thorns can be somewhat, shall we say…inconvenient?”
Miss Bidewell’s face turned ashen, save for two bright-red splotches on her cheeks.
Sabrina noted that Fairford’s expression had turned to one of amused appreciation.
He acknowledged her triumph with a slight nod. “A woman of diverse interests is like a many-faceted jewel.”
She allowed a smile to curve her lips—just a small one, the sort one gives a fellow conspirator when the prank has been played to its humorous end.
But the butt of the joke wasn’t quite ready to concede just yet. “I understand you are sharing a box with Lord Montgomery this evening,” said Miss Bidewell, her voice filled with venom. “I hear he has visited Aylesford quite frequently over the past several weeks.”
Sabrina’s smile remained unshaken. “His mother and mine were favorite companions in their youth. Mama has known him since he was born.”
“How delightful for you to share such an intimate association,” said Miss Bidewell. “One must assume he also adores books, given his similar propensity for lurking in libraries,” she said pointedly. “Although I’m afraid he doesn’t seem quite the gardening type—”
“Actually, I quite enjoy it,” answered Montgomery, stepping out of the shadows and walking down the steps to join them. “Sabrina, your mother is looking for you. I told her I thought you might have come out for a breath of air.”
She started in surprise. How long had he been listening?
“Indeed, we are dear friends,” he continued jovially. He turned to her, his eyes dancing with humor. “We share a great many interests, including horticulture. I’ve yet to show her my own garden, but I have every intention of doing so at the earliest possible opportunity.”
Her heart sank. His insinuation could not be more clear. She winced inwardly as she looked to Fairford, expecting to see irritation. She was surprised, however, to see that his cheery smile remained.
“Perhaps, Lady Sabrina, you would like to visit Wollaton Park?” the man calmly inquired. “The king himself has named it a veritable paradise on earth. I should be most pleased to share my bit of paradise with a fellow enthusiast.”
“I should be delighted, of course,” she answered, jumping at the chance.
“Then, naturally, you must visit anytime you like. I leave you w
ith an open invitation.”
She could feel the animosity emanating from Montgomery, though his face was cast into shadow by the lamplight. She knew that, given half a chance, he would run Fairford through in an instant.
“Sabrina?” All heads turned to see the Dowager Countess of Aylesford approaching. “Ah, there you are! And Henry. Lord Fairford and Miss Bidewell, a delight, as always.”
Miss Bidewell curtseyed, as was proper, though it clearly galled her to do so.
“No need for that, my dear,” said the countess. “When next you see her, do tell your mother that I have relayed to Lady Buxton the latest news regarding the ladies’ charity circle. Hadn’t we better all return to our seats? I believe the program is about to resume.”
For once, Sabrina was glad for her mother’s interference—until Montgomery took her arm to lead her back into the theater. The crowd pressed in on all sides, forcing them into close contact. To her further annoyance, his fingers kept brushing hers as they lay atop his sleeve, sending little sparks of heat throughout her body.
