The Wayward Debutante. Sarah Barnwell Elliott

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ going to let her run away so soon this time.

      With a departing nod to the still-doubtful Jonathon, he left the box, heading down the dimly lit flight of stairs to the seats below. It took only a moment to locate her, and he had to hold back another grin as he walked slowly down the aisle. If she’d been paying attention before, that was no longer the case. Her attention now seemed to be entirely focused on boring holes with her eyes into the man’s thick neck. She was so absorbed that she didn’t even notice as he took a seat directly behind her. She just exhaled loudly in frustration and craned her head once more.

      James watched her for several minutes, enjoying her irritation. The act soon ended, and the man rose and walked off, presumably to stretch his legs before the second half of the play began. With a relieved sigh, she leaned back into her seat.

      And he leaned forward, his lips only inches from the back of her head. In a whisper, he asked, “Why don’t you change your seat if you can’t see?”

      She didn’t turn around. He wasn’t sure if he’d expected her to. For an instant she looked as though she was about to jump out of her seat, but then she merely stiffened her shoulders. She was pretending not to have heard him.

      He narrowed his eyes. The volume in the theater had increased as the scenery was changed, but it wasn’t that loud. She’d heard him, and it wasn’t as if she had anyone else to speak to, either. She was just sitting there, intentionally ignoring him. James wasn’t used to that sort of treatment. He slid from his seat, stepped over the row of seats in front of him, and sat down right next to her.

      Eleanor kept her neck as rigid as a flagpole. She’d no idea who this beastly man was, and she certainly wouldn’t dignify his presence by looking at him. Making eye contact would only invite further liberties; better just to ignore him and hope that he’d go away. She’d rehearsed this tactic many times in her head just in case such a scenario should pass.

      “Are you enjoying the play?”

      She made no answer and still didn’t turn her head. Instead, she imagined what he’d look like. Pudgy. Ugly. His nose would be bulbous and lined with red veins from too much drink.

      He sighed elaborately next to her, leaned back in his seat and stretched out his legs. In turn, she edged sideways in her own seat and tried to make herself as small as possible so she wouldn’t accidentally touch any part of him. Odious man.

      “Well, you must like it, as I’ve seen you here before,” he said. His voice was deep and rich and didn’t fit the unattractive physique her mind had conjured up. “Unless, of course, you just make a habit of wandering around the less savory parts of London by yourself at night.”

      She hoped he didn’t notice her eyes grow slightly wider as the meaning of his words sank in. Had he really seen her there before? Her muteness was positively killing her, but she refused to speak, hoping that if she ignored him long enough he’d get bored and leave.

      But he didn’t get bored. He got impatient, and he reached out and grabbed her hand, tugging gently.

      She gasped and pulled it away with a jerk. She was so outraged that she completely forgot about ignoring him and turned her entire body around to rebuke him. But the nasty words that were ready at her lips died before they were ever formed.

       Oh, no.

      “Hello again,” he said, his voice laced with humor.

      She didn’t reply. She was still too stunned. He wasn’t supposed to be there, but there he was. Right next to her, regarding her with curiosity and waiting for her to say something. And she could think of nothing to say. Her head felt as if it had been emptied of all intelligent content and all she could do, again, was stare. She’d thought he was handsome the first time she’d seen him, but now, up close…she really shouldn’t be looking at his lips. She lifted her gaze from his mouth but instead became trapped in his eyes. Mesmerizing eyes, not dark at all as she’d previously thought, but leafy green with veins of gold and brown.

      “What’s your name?” he asked, his voice growing softer.

      She didn’t know how or when it had happened, but he’d reclaimed her hand; with his thumb, he lightly stroked her palm. If not for that fact, she surely wouldn’t have answered him. But with his hand covering hers she couldn’t think too clearly. Her voice didn’t sound quite like her own. “Eleanor.”

      He cocked his head, waiting for more. His fingers drifted up her arm, across her shoulder, to trace a gentle line along her jaw.

      “Surely you have more of a name than that?”

      Did she? What was her name? “Um…Smith.”

      “Are you newly married, Eleanor…um, Smith?”

      “Why do you ask such a question, sir?” Her sense was finally returning, and she pulled her head away from his wandering hand.

      He smiled, his eyes darkening wickedly. “You stumbled a bit over your name, Eleanor Smith,” he explained. “I thought perhaps it might be…new to you.”

      She blushed deeply, but her voice was sharp. “I stumbled because I am unused to such rudeness.”

      “I see. Are you married at all, then?”

      She just glared at him before turning her head away to face the stage. She would not answer him this time. Doing so had obviously only encouraged further impertinent questions.

      “I don’t believe you are married.”

      She could hear the laughter in his voice and cursed him silently. She picked up the thin program she’d been given upon entry and began reading it for a second time.

      “If you’re not married—and you’re not—then you must be employed.”

      Still without looking at him, she gritted out, “I never said I wasn’t married.”

      He chuckled. “But you’re not, of course. You’re lucky you aren’t, too…if you were, your husband would be obliged to give you a thorough spanking for coming here alone. It’s not at all proper, you know.”

      Eleanor didn’t turn her head for a moment. She was too shocked, not believing he’d really said what she thought he’d just said. Spanking?

       Spanking?

      With the word raging in her mind, she turned on him, eyes flashing, forgetting for the moment the dangerous effect he had on her. “You, sir, are not at all proper!”

      He was unfazed by her indignation. “How are you employed, did you say?”

      “I did not.”

      “I see. Then shall I guess?”

      “I am a governess,” she answered shortly, hoping that austere and respectable occupation would change the direction of his lecherous thoughts. Scathingly, she added, “And you are…what, a professional libertine?”

      She’d meant to insult him, but her remark seemed only to amuse him further. “No…I rather wish, but…” He paused, perhaps realizing he’d baited her too much. “Don’t think I’ve introduced myself yet—perhaps I should start СКАЧАТЬ