The Wayward Debutante. Sarah Barnwell Elliott

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СКАЧАТЬ that if I were in your position, I certainly wouldn’t be wasting my time with the likes of Miss Budgen. I’d be dancing with a different heiress every night and fathering weak-chinned, aristocratic brats. What about marriage?”

      James frowned. “You’re as bad as Will. I’m not sure that any self-respecting heiress would waste her time with me, nor am I interested in the least. Now—” he paused, looking north, in the direction of Hyde Park “—I’m walking this way.”

      Jonathon took the hint, but he couldn’t help calling out over his shoulder as he headed in the opposite direction, “Perhaps you should try to be interested. It might cheer you up.”

      Chapter Three

      Eleanor didn’t exactly know what she was doing there, seated once more in the shadowy outer edges of the theater, just two weeks after her first ordeal there. She’d anticipated spending a quiet evening at home with Beatrice and Charles as no social events had been organized. Only that had changed late in the afternoon when Charles’s mother, Lady Emma Summerson, invited them all to dinner.

      “You’ll come, of course, won’t you, Eleanor?” Beatrice had asked. “The invitation is rather tardy, I know, but that’s because something novel has come up. Mrs. Parker-Branch visited Emma late this afternoon with her latest protégé in tow—she fancies herself a great patron, as you know. He’s a Florentine tenor and has agreed to sing for Emma tonight.”

      Normally Eleanor would have agreed immediately, but something—she wasn’t sure what—had made her hold back. “It sounds like a late evening.”

      “I suppose, but you’ve done nothing all day. It won’t be anything too formal, I promise. Say you’ll come.”

      Indeed, Eleanor had meant to say just that. But when she’d opened her mouth something else came out entirely.

      “Perhaps I’ll give Miss Pilkington a visit.”

      A braying voice coming from the center of the audience bought her attention back to the present with a snap. Her first instinct was to turn to see what was happening, but she caught herself in time. She’d been coaching herself all night to practice restraint, only it wasn’t as easy as it sounded. She’d been raised to speak her mind, not to lower her eyes demurely.

      The curtains parted, and she took a deep breath, trying to relax.

      Only she couldn’t, nor could she concentrate. She glanced over her shoulder to look at the rows of seats behind her, but they were still empty.

      Don’t be silly, Eleanor, she chided herself as she turned her head back around. He will not be here this time. That would be too great a coincidence.

      The evening’s play was As You Like It, again. She’d returned for a second viewing—not that she’d been able to see it properly the first time—and the chance that he’d also be there a second time was too slim to worry about. It was highly unlikely that she’d see him again in any context. His physical appearance might have suggested he was a gentleman, but his behavior certainly did not. She’d never seen him at any ton events before, and she would have remembered.

      So why couldn’t she stop thinking about him? He was no longer a threat; he was nothing more than a spine-tingling—make that very spine-tingling—memory. She wasn’t unused to attractive men, either. Her brother, Ben, was terribly good-looking and Charles, until two weeks ago, anyway, was the handsomest man she’d ever seen. But, well, that was Charles, for goodness sake. It wasn’t the same.

      Eleanor closed her eyes and tried to remember the stranger’s face. Since she’d dreamed about him just the other night it wasn’t that difficult. She sank back into her seat and looked up at the plasterwork ceiling. She couldn’t help grinning. Dear God, why have you made me so depraved? His boldness had shocked and thrilled her, and all he’d done was smile at her with a little more masculine approval than she was used to. Few men had ever flirted with her; she wasn’t used to that sort of attention.

      The sound of a large form easing into the seat in front of her drew her attention back to earth. That form was a very tall and spherical man.

       Oh…!

      She frowned at his broad back and leaned her body to one side and then to the other, trying to see around him. How dare he not only come in late but obscure her view, as well? She stared at the back of his bald head, willing him to change his seat. She certainly wasn’t going to move. In the first place—just as a matter of principle—she’d sat down before him. In the second place, however, looking for another seat would require standing up, searching about and drawing attention to herself in the process. Just when she’d been avoiding notice so well.

      With an annoyed sigh, Eleanor realized she had no choice but to crane her neck.

      From the comfort of his private box, James looked out over the audience. He wasn’t really paying attention since he’d already seen the play, and had actually only come along because Jonathon had invited him for a closing night drink. With each successful play, he came closer to repaying the loan, and he liked to celebrate.

      His gaze faltered as it drifted across a blond head. A woman, seated on the right side of the theater. Unlike most of the audience, her face was turned toward the stage, and she appeared to be following the play with interest. She was also completely alone. He narrowed his eyes, instantly certain he’d seen her somewhere before, although he couldn’t remember where. Other than the fact that she was alone there wasn’t anything remarkable about her. Her body, what he could see of it, anyway, was slim and covered in a dreary, gray dress. Her hair was pulled into a severe knot.

      He watched with amusement as she shifted her weight, apparently trying to see around the large man seated directly in front of her. If he’d been any closer, he was certain that he would have heard her huff in annoyance.

       Where had he seen her before?

      With a frown, he reached for Jonathon’s opera glasses. As he watched, she leaned forward once again, trying to crane her head around the impenetrable form blocking her view. He chuckled as she sat heavily back into her seat in frustration.

      As if she heard him, an impossibility from that distance, she turned her head to the side quickly, almost suspiciously. He stopped laughing, his eyes on the face that was now presented to him in profile. Suddenly, he remembered.

      “See anything unusual through those?” Jonathon asked, regarding him with mild interest.

      “Perhaps.”

      Jonathon glanced down at the audience toward the nondescript blond woman. She still fidgeted miserably. “Really?” he asked dubiously.

      “Have you seen that woman before?”

      Jonathon frowned. “Don’t think so…honestly can’t remember. Have you?”

      He shrugged. “When I was here last…about two weeks ago. She was unaccompanied then, too.”

      Jonathon sighed. “What a nuisance. Do you want to remove her, or shall I?”

      James didn’t respond. He wasn’t going to throw her out, not until he’d satisfied his curiosity, anyway. He didn’t know why she so intrigued him, but he’d thought about her several times since he’d first seen her. She was СКАЧАТЬ