Chapter 25
The intermission caught Ophelia by surprise, so that when the curtains closed and the crowds started to move, she did not know what was happening.
“What…” She blinked as she looked about them, noting that those in the other private booths were rising.
“Intermission,” Adrian said as he stood up. “Let us have a drink.” He held out his hand.
She smiled and took it. “Yes, I think a drink sounds lovely.”
They exited the booth together and made their way toward the private lounge at the end of the hallway. They were the last ones there, and as was common, when they entered, more than a few of the bobbing heads turned to take note.
Only that time, their gazes were short, and within seconds, all turned back to continue in their conversations. Just as Adrian had promised, the interest in their marriage was slowly dying out so that soon they would be just another married couple.
“A drink?” Adrian asked as they made their way to the corner of the lounge area.
It was a small room, covered in purple carpet and plush seats with too many cushions. Most in the room stood in small groups, drinks already in hand, whispers low as they discussed the show. But some sat, and a few prowled about.
“Yes, I think one will be lovely.”
“Wait here.” Adrian looked her over as if to double-check that she would be fine on her own, before crossing the room to find a waiter.
She watched him walk away, and she smiled just a little to see those he passed by shuffle out of the way as if in fear.
Oh yes, he still had a reputation about him, and that would likely stay for some time.
But nights like this one wore it down, and she knew that his being there with her was likely to have a huge effect.
As it will on my own reputation, for that matter.
Indeed, alone now, Ophelia suddenly felt exposed like she had not done all evening. When she was on Adrian’s arm, it was easy to tell herself that the way people watched was on account of their hasty marriage, and that most whispers were meant for Adrian. But by herself…
She tried but was unable to ignore the way that random heads turned to look at her. She did her best not to listen, but the whispers traveled as if they were shouted in her direction.
“… I was there, you know. The night that she chased down Lord Hallbridge…”
“… would you believe that she tried to claim that he was the one who attacked her…”
“… oh, I always knew that there was something wrong with her. The way that she would fawn over him…”
They grew in tenacity. They were like waves, crashing down on her, battering her into submission so that all Ophelia wanted to do was turn and run.
And while she shrank back, turned away, she stayed where she was.
Tonight was not about her, and with Adrian by her side, she knew he would protect her.
That was when she heard raised voices coming from across the room.
Ophelia spun sharply, found the source, and her eyes widened just as her stomach dropped through the floor.
“How dare you!” The voice belonged to a middle-aged lord with a round face and blonde hair. “Unhand me at once!”
Adrian was the cause. He had the round-faced lord by the collar; his visage was carved into a vicious snarl, and it looked as if he was doing everything he could to keep himself from punching the man right in the face.
“Take it back,” she heard Adrian snarl. “Now!”
“I said nothing that is not considered fact,” the round-faced lord said, pitching his voice high. “And you ought to be made aware of it, Your Grace. I would think that you of all people would wish to avoid such scandals.”
“I am warning you,” Adrian continued as he pulled the lord in closer. “Be careful what you say next, as it might be the last thing that you do.”
The round-faced lord chuckled. “Please, be my guest. Where there is one, there is the other. Perhaps the two of you are more perfect for one another than we realized.”
“Adrian!” Ophelia cried and rushed toward him. “Stop!”
She pushed through the crowd and reached Adrian just as his hand curled into a fist. She grabbed his arm, pulling it down as she tried desperately to pull him back.
“The things he said,” Adrian growled without looking, his body trembling. “The things he said of you!”
“It does not matter,” she tried to ease him. “Please…”
She looked at him with desperation, her eyes pleading, her hands clinging to his arm. Around them both, the small crowd gathered, all watching on with baited and eager breaths. Ophelia ignored them the best that she could because they did not matter. Not yet, anyhow.
“Please, Adrian.” She softened her voice. “He is not worth it.”
“I suggest you listen to your wife,” the round-faced lord said. “Before you embarrass yourself further.”
Ophelia was certain that Adrian was about to strike the lord then and there. Indeed, it looked as if he wanted to. But slowly, somehow, he came into himself, if only just then realizing that they were not alone. He blinked, reared back, looked around them and noticed the crowd.
That was when his eyes turned wide and he released the lord.
“Typical,” the round-faced lord scoffed. “Once a beast, always a beast.”
“Adrian…” Ophelia tried to find Adrian’s eyes, but he did not give them. He took a step back, his gaze searching through the crowd, fear passing across his face like she had never seen. “Adrian…” She took a step forward to take his hand.
“No!” Adrian yanked his hand back and held it to his chest. “Don’t…” Again, there was fear in his eyes. “Don’t.” He looked away with shame, his shoulders collapsed, and then he put down his head and charged from the room.
“Adrian!” she called after him.
He was gone in seconds, leaving her behind to the wolves. They gathered around her, they smirked and shook their heads and looked at her as if they were not in the least bit surprised.
Tears welled, her legs trembled, and Ophelia put her head down and rushed through the crowd and toward the exit. As she ran, she heard the conversation start back up, just as she heard her name on the lips of each and every single person.
If the circumstance slightly different, Ophelia might have taken some consolation in the fact that Adrian had stood up for her. After all, was it not proof that he cared for her and was willing to do whatever he must to keep her safe?
In another world, such a courageous act might have been proof that our marriage was right and that Adrian cared for me.
Sadly, Ophelia knew too well that such a reality was not the one that she lived in. All Adrian wanted to do was avoid a scandal, only to find himself in the center of a new one. She was the cause, their marriage was the foundation, and that was what Adrian was sure to focus on.
The path they walked, it fell away at their feet, and the way forward was dark and filled with sorrow, no happiness in sight.
“Adrian, will you please just talk to me!” Ophelia cried as Adrian stormed across the foyer. “Tell me what happened!”
The carriage ride home from the theater had been a most awkward thing.
More than once, Ophelia had attempted to draw Adrian into a conversation, needing him to understand that she was on his side and did not blame him for what had happened.
And more than once, the cold silence he had given her, the anger that stewed and festered in his body, was her response.
When they arrived home, Adrian fled the carriage without so much as looking at Ophelia. He then stormed down the driveway and charged inside, determined to leave her behind as if she did not exist.
Ophelia considered leaving him for the night, but she reasoned that would only make things worse. More than ever, Adrian needed to know that Ophelia was with him, and that whatever might happen, that would always be the case.
“Stop!” she screamed as loud as she could, just as he reached the base of the stairs. “Please, just stop!”
Adrian froze, one foot raised, his hand already on the railing. Body stiff, shoulders hunched, she did not need to see his face to know what he was thinking.
“They were speaking about me, weren’t they…” Slowly, carefully, she crossed the foyer. “That was why you…” She swallowed. “Why you did as you did.”
“The things they said of you, Ophelia,” he snarled into his chest without turning around. “I ought to have killed him for it.”
She laughed to try and diffuse the tension. “At least that might have provided a distraction from their gossiping.”
“It wasn’t gossip,” he hissed. “Accusations, spoken as fact. They said… he said…” His breathing rattled in his chest. “And it’s not just what they said, but that they thought it acceptable. They wanted me to hear.”
“So what?” She was behind him, but she did not get too close. “Who cares what they say? Weren’t you saying earlier that rumors are just like meat thrown to wolves? That to refuse it will eventually see them grow bored? Let them talk.”
“This marriage… it was supposed to… the entire purpose…”
“Was for Harriet,” she spoke over him. “To protect her. That is what matters.”
“No,” he snarled, and she winced. “It was to protect us. We both have a past, Ophelia, one that I hoped would be forgotten in time.”
“Which it will be.”
He scoffed. “Maybe, once. But now…” A shake of the head, and still he did not turn around. “What I did tonight will be known throughout the ton by tomorrow, spoken about by every home in London.”
“I do not care,” she offered. “Let them talk –”
“You do not understand!” he roared, and she jumped. “I am not meant to… I should not care… what I did tonight, it will happen again. For as long as we are together, there will always be those who talk.”
Ophelia leaned back, sensing his meaning, but not daring to put a voice to it. Rather, she took a chance and closed the gap between herself and Adrian and rested a hand gently on his back. He stiffened at her touch and bucked her away.
“Don’t,” he said, the anger gone, replaced by shame and sadness. “Please, just… I need to think, Ophelia. About tonight, about…” The silence dragged on as he let that final comment linger.
About us, is what he wants to say. Again, it always comes back to the same.
“I will not tell you that tonight means nothing,” she said, standing tall, firming her voice. “And yes, people will likely talk. But where you choose to see the bad, I prefer to focus on the good.”
She looked at him, waiting for him to ask the obvious question. Typically, most predictably, he did no such thing.
“You did as you promised that you would do, Adrian,” she started, her voice trembling.
“You protected me. Now, you might not see the good in that, but I do. All I hope is that you come to understand what that means, that…” Her voice wavered again.
“That caring about what I think is far more important than what others do.”
Adrian said nothing, still facing away from her, his body still tense and rigid. She watched him, looking for any sign that her words landed as she needed them to do. But his walls were back up, and she doubted he cared at all.
“Tomorrow,” he said finally, his voice so low that she hardly heard it. “We will speak of this tomorrow.” With that, he started up the stairs.
Ophelia watched him go, thinking again to call out and tell him that he did not have to worry about what had happened, that it did not matter! How they felt about one another was all that needed to be focused on; that was where happiness would be found.
She kept those words to herself, knowing they would fall on deaf ears.
Once again, Ophelia was left alone, lamenting what might have been, while suffering under the weight of a situation she knew only too well, and one that she might never escape from.