Chapter Nineteen
Adaline fidgeted in her seat before her vanity as Thompson clasped a delicate pearl necklace around her throat and ensured every curl was artfully arranged.
“You look beautiful,” Lucy said. “Stop worrying so.”
Thompson adjusted one last ribbon and then bobbed a curtsy and took her leave.
“I am not worried,” Adaline insisted once she and Lucy were alone. She brushed her hands down the pale pink skirts of her gown. “Just…”
“Anxious? Nervous? Excited?”
Lucy grinned at Adaline’s startled glance.
“It stands to reason, my dear cousin,” Lucy said.
“After all, a very handsome, eligible gentleman all but promised he would seek you out at the next opportunity. And as most of Society will be attending the theater tonight, there is an excellent chance you shall see him this evening. Lord Hugo would cause any girl to be a little distracted.”
“Yes. I mean no, that’s not quite…it’s not exactly that, it’s…”
Adaline sighed. She didn’t know what it was.
The evening promised delight and dread in equal measure.
Yes, she was strangely anticipating seeing Hugo again.
Why, she hadn’t quite worked out in her mind yet.
The man was incorrigible, irresponsible, reckless, and had nearly ruined her with his childish prank.
And yet…the more time she spent with him, the more she saw his kindness, humor, love of life.
Their recent friendship both confused and exhilarated her.
And sparked a thread of guilt as well. Because there was another presence in her heart and mind.
Mayhem. Her mysterious correspondent whose witty letters had become both a source of comfort and torment.
Not unlike how Lord Hugo Brelsford’s presence affected her.
How could one heart entertain such divided affections?
And did it even matter? Unless one or the other of them declared any sort of intentions toward her—and the chances of that were slim at best—she would never need to choose between them.
That thought startled her enough that she gasped quietly. What was she thinking? Choosing between them? Between a man who was an abstract fantasy and a man she should want nothing to do with?
Perhaps her mother was right, and it was time to settle down with a nice suitable man who would provide security and respectability.
One who was real. Who she could trust. Who was…
stable, and predictable. And did not fill her mind with shockingly inappropriate thoughts she would be a fool to act upon. That is what she needed.
She would not dwell on what she wanted.
Her other choices were too fanciful and unsettling for a variety of reasons that made her head ache to think of them.
“You look lovely,” Lucy said again. “Whomever you may see tonight will be delighted with the vision you present, I have no doubt.”
Adaline gave Lucy a grateful smile. “I confess, I do find myself eager to see Lord Hugo again, though I know the folly in that.”
“Is it folly?”
“Is it not?” Adaline frowned. “The man insulted me and our family enough that Henry was ready to challenge him to a duel. I am still the butt of far too many jokes. How can I spend even a moment contemplating a possible match with him?”
Lucy shrugged. “Regardless of what happened in your past, you enjoy his company now, in the present. He has apologized for what really amounts to a youthful mistake. One in which he did not bear sole responsibility. I know your family still harbors ill feelings toward him, and with good cause, but…” She shrugged again.
“I’m sure they’ll come around if he is who you truly want. ”
Adaline nodded slowly. “And Mayhem?”
Lucy’s lips pursed. “I know you have genuine feelings for him. And understandably so. But…you do not know who Mayhem truly is. He could be entirely unsuitable. If he ever even agrees to reveal his identity. Lord Hugo, on the other hand, is charming, respectable, and in my opinion, clearly taken with you. Do you not feel something when you are together?”
A flush crept into Adaline’s cheeks. “I do. But it is different. With Hugo, I feel seen. He watches me when he thinks I am unaware, and when we converse, I feel I can truly speak my mind. Even if I say things I ought not. But Mayhem knows the real me and has never judged. In fact, we seem to be of the same mind on almost all matters. I…have grown very fond of him.”
“Through his letters?” Lucy asked, her crossed arms and pursed lips showing exactly what she thought of the likelihood of that.
“Yes, through his letters. I will admit, I never would have thought it an efficient way to become acquainted with someone. But I was mistaken. It is perhaps the best way.”
“How so?”
“Because there is nothing else interfering,” Adaline said with a soft smile.
“None of the nervousness one often feels in the presence of a new person. Especially a person with such potential future importance. None of the airs one often gives oneself to appear more important or intelligent or interesting. And perhaps most importantly, no physical attraction, or lack thereof, masking our true emotions with desire. Or…lack thereof.” An issue she had definitely encountered on more than one occasion with gentlemen who were otherwise acceptable enough.
“With the letters,” she continued, “I, at least, can say what I really feel. It provides a distance that allows us to communicate as the people we truly are. And I am certain it has been the same for him. We have grown close through our letters. He is perhaps the only person I feel I truly know. Who truly knows me.”
Lucy gazed at her thoughtfully for a moment. “Perhaps that is because you have never given anyone else the opportunity to truly know you.”
Adaline opened her mouth to argue, then shut it again with a sheepish grin. “Perhaps you are right in that.”
“Might that be something you could change this evening?”
“I…shall try,” she said with another smile.
“Good.” Lucy stood and smoothed out her skirts. “And consider…who can truly offer you happiness? A secret correspondent whom you may never meet? Or a gentleman who, despite all reason and opposition, has sought you out?”
Adaline nodded thoughtfully and then looped her arm through her cousin’s.
They met her parents in the foyer, her mother’s critical eyes appraising her appearance with a final nod of approval. They rode in relative silence to the theater, and did not linger in the foyer upon arrival, much to Adaline’s dismay.
Inside, the theater blossomed with color and sound.
Gentlemen in crisp cravats and ladies in shimmering gowns filled the marble foyer, their laughter and conversation mingling with the strains of a distant quartet.
From above, the chandelier spilled its brilliance across the velvet-draped boxes and gilded balconies.
Adaline pressed a hand to her stomach to calm the riot of butterflies in her stomach as her family took their seats in their box.
Adaline settled her skirts, hands folded tight, eyes restless.
Lucy joined her, and together they surveyed the crowd.
Lucy’s constant commentary on the theater-goers helped calm Adaline to a point.
But she remained distracted, her eyes constantly on the search for Hugo; her mind reeling with thoughts of Mayhem.
Finally, the orchestra struck the notes of tonight’s opening presentation, a short melodrama that would precede the main performance of a comedic opera.
The audience seemed to enjoy the performance, but Adaline hardly noticed.
To be fair, she was not the only one whose attention was on the crowd rather than the performance.
It seemed few people attended the theater to actually watch the stage.
By the time the main performance had begun, Adaline still had not spotted Hugo.
He was not with his family in their box, nor had she seen him with any of his usual friends.
Perhaps he had not attended this evening.
She tried to ignore the crushing disappointment that thought lent her.
Even if he had not sought her out, as he’d implied, she had been looking forward to seeing him again. Strange as that thought was.
Lucy leaned in close. “You are distracted, Ada. The performance is quite good tonight.”
Adaline laughed quietly, though her fingers continued to restlessly fold and unfold her fan. “You may be the only one in attendance actually watching the actors.”
Lucy grinned. “True. But then I have already made my love match. I suppose you can be excused if your attention is reserved for a particular gentleman rather than the show.”
Lucy’s eyes shifted to one of the grand boxes near the stage, and Adaline’s gaze followed.
She stilled, though whether her body was frozen from excitement or an attack of nerves, she could not say.
Hugo stood with his brother Arthur near the back of their box, laughing at something the gentleman with them had said.
He turned his head, his eyes scanning the audience.
He stopped, his gaze locked on hers. For half a heartbeat, he did nothing. And then he slowly smiled, his eyes never leaving hers.
The audience erupted in applause as the rich, velvet curtains dropped to the stage, signaling an intermission before the main performance commenced.
Adaline’s brother left to obtain some refreshments as her mother was already parched. Adaline rose as well.
“I believe Lucy and I will walk a bit, if that is all right, Mother. I feel the need for a bit of exercise, or I shall be asleep in my seat.”
“Hmm,” her mother murmured, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Very well. Do not go far and don’t linger.”
“I shan’t. We won’t be gone long.”
Her mother nodded absently and turned back to her conversation with Mrs. Litner, who had wandered over to their box for a visit.