Chapter 6 #2
But in the end, she knew Arabella’s decision was the same one she should make for herself. One kiss with a lady who probably regretted it was no reason to turn herself inside out.
She would move on, continue on her path and forget Caroline Banfield. It couldn’t be that hard to do.
It had been three days since The Kiss. That was how Caroline pictured it in her head, capitalized like the title of a play or a book.
Certainly her feelings around the encounter felt as dramatic as ones written by any gothic author.
She didn’t want to label those emotions, but they kept coming, crashing into her like waves on some stormy sea.
“Even more dramatics,” she muttered to herself as she was jostled in her carriage.
She was on her way to the opera. That fact landed like a lead weight in her stomach. She very rarely went to the opera and even less often by herself. Tonight she had decided to do so at the last moment, readying herself with shaking hands and a throbbing heart.
After all, she knew one person who regularly attended the opera. Regularly sat in the box of that marquess who Caroline suddenly despised, and gazed out like a queen overseeing her kingdom.
“I’m not going for Simone,” she muttered to herself, and then covered her eyes with her hand.
That was a lie. From the first moment she had made the decision, it had only been about Simone. She wanted to see her, to try to determine how Simone felt about the kiss. To talk to her if she could and…and…
“And do what?” she asked herself with a shuddering sigh. “Fix things?”
Yes. She wanted to fix things. To make sure that whatever the relationship was between them, it wasn’t ruined by one imprudent moment. One glorious, electric, imprudent moment.
She’d never felt that way about a kiss from her husband.
Kisses were something rare and to be endured just as she endured all his physical demands and painful fumblings.
She’d thought she hadn’t liked such things, but one moment with Simone and she realized she did like them.
She liked being kissed and held and touched when she was with the right person. What a revelation on so many fronts.
But the right person couldn’t be Simone, could it?
The carriage stopped and she breathed a sigh of relief because at least when she was moving around and acknowledging friends and acquaintances, she wouldn’t be thinking about Simone.
She was verging on the edge of late as her footman helped her from the carriage and she entered the opera house.
The lamps were already being lightly flickered by servants to signal it was time to enter for the show.
Everyone would ignore that, of course, at least for a few more moments.
Attendees came to be seen, many didn’t even watch the shows.
Caroline had never understood that. The opera was beautiful and passionate and…
Her thoughts trailed off as she caught a glimpse of Simone across the crowded vestibule.
She was dressed in a shocking red gown that seemed to skim every beautiful line of her body and left little to the imagination.
She was clinging to the arm of her current protector, Lord Harding, but he was busy talking to a few gentlemen, not looking at Simone.
How could anyone be standing so near to her and not look at her?
Caroline took a step through the crowd, analyzing every way Simone tilted her head or gave a smile. A false smile, Caroline thought. Was she well? Was she not having a good time? Was she thinking of Caroline?
Well, that was foolish. She couldn’t possibly be. Simone hadn’t reached out, after all. Hadn’t acknowledged what had happened in the parlor at all. It was probably a lark to her. A silly thing already forgotten.
Caroline’s heart ached but she still took a few more steps toward Simone. The courtesan stiffened, her eyes becoming wide like she’d sensed something, and then her gray stare was turned toward Caroline. Her lips parted in surprise and for what felt like an eternity they stared at each other.
Caroline swallowed. What was her plan? She hadn’t gotten this far when she decided to come here. She’d barely been able to acknowledge that seeing Simone was the reason for her attendance.
The lights flickered again and now the crowd began to meander toward the house seats and the boxes. The marquess stepped forward a little and Simone’s hand drifted from his elbow because she didn’t move with him, just continued to look at Caroline.
Caroline had to talk to her. She had to, it was as imperative as breathing now.
She widened her eyes, sending a message of pleading, she hoped.
Simone dropped her chin with a slight shake her head, and for a moment Caroline thought she’d been rejected.
But then Simone looked at her again and jerked her head toward the birth of alcoves that decorated the theatre.
Sometimes when the shows were sold out, they allowed people to stand in their windows and look over the stage from some great height, but normally they were covered with curtains and unseen from stage or the foyer.
Caroline nodded and moved away. It was hardly a specific assignation, but she would take it. She waited until nearly everyone had gone inside and then she slipped to the alcoves and stepped into the hallway behind the first covered window to wait.
It seemed like it took forever. The opera began, songs drifting muted through the heavy curtain. She might have given up but then Simone appeared, pushing into the hallway and finding her instantly.