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He nodded. ‘Two. And a third who will be making a come out next year.’
He wondered whether it would be worth asking Gussie if she would invite Miss Gibson to one of the extravagant entertainments she was bound to be throwing this Season. Since she’d married Lord Carelyon their paths had crossed fairly frequently and she had never displayed the very blatant hostility that his other siblings did not bother to hide.
‘Perhaps you will meet one of them, one day,’ he said.
‘Oh, no. There is no need. I mean, I really do not expect you to attempt to embroil your family in our...in this...’ She blushed as she faltered to a halt. ‘I am quite content with the invitations I am already receiving. There is so much to do in London. Balls and trips to the theatre and exhibitions and I don’t know what. In fact, I am enjoying myself far more than I thought I would.’
And in a totally different way, too. Even though Lord Deben took away with his left hand what he gave with his right, the very fact that he found anything about her to praise was very heartening. More so, perhaps, because he did not scruple to point out the faults he perceived in her as well.
‘You really like my hair?’ She fingered the ringlet he’d toyed with earlier.
‘Oh, yes. And your mouth, too.’
He bent his eyes upon it. His lids drooped. He shook his head.
‘Not tonight. And definitely not here. But soon.’
The breath stuttered in her chest. They were back to speaking of kissing.
‘So tell me,’ he said, leaning closer, ‘whether I may expect to see you at the theatre tomorrow night?’
‘Yes, you will. Of course you will. I told you Uncle Ledbetter has hired a box, did I not?’
‘I recall something of the sort. But who knows, you may have received so many invitations since we last spoke that your aunt has decided to take you instead to the Arlingtons’ soirée, or the Lensboroughs’ rout party.’
She shook her head. Heavens, but it was hard to breathe, let alone form rational thoughts, when he looked at her mouth like that...
‘Oh!’
He was doing it to her. Looking at her mouth, in just the way he’d told her she was to look at a man’s mouth, to let them know she was speculating.
‘That is a very effective tool,’ she said, in total awe of his skill. ‘And a very practical demonstration of the kind of look I should be giving men.’
The sultry look died from his eyes.
‘A salutary lesson,’ he said, somewhat bewilderingly.
Then his face hardened.
‘Time to cease, now, I think. You look sufficiently flustered by my love-making to stir up the gossips.’
She felt like a deflating balloon. For a moment she had forgotten this was all make-believe. She had felt as though she was just talking to a friend.
But a man like Lord Deben could never truly be her friend.
She forced herself to smile, and look about her in an interested way once he’d bowed and left her. Above all, she refused to allow her eyes to follow his progress through the room, like a lovesick puppy. Yet her fingers closed round the handkerchief he’d left lying in her lap. And when she thought nobody was looking, she stuffed it hastily into her reticule. Only then, her mouth firmed with determination, did she get to her own feet, and set off through the throng to seek out her aunt and Mildred, and the rest of their party.
* * *
The moment they entered their box at the theatre the next night, Henrietta scanned the auditorium to see if she could spot Lord Deben. He was standing, quite alone, in a box that was virtually opposite theirs, gazing down upon the crowd below with a decided air of disdain. He couldn’t have been in a better position to notice her if he’d planned it. As she sat down, she wondered if he had. She could imagine him discovering where they were going to be sitting, by some nefarious means, and then making sure he would be able to watch her all night without having to go to the bother of craning his neck.
Well, she wasn’t going to appear any less cool about their forthcoming assignation than he. She would not keep stealing glances at him, to see whether he was watching her, or whether he would acknowledge her across the theatre by bowing, or making some other sign of recognition.
