Chapter Nineteen #2
Lucy’s brow rose as Adaline glanced at her, but she followed nonetheless.
The likelihood of Hugo being in the foyer instead of one of the boxes was slim.
But the likelihood of him visiting her box was non-existent.
That she wanted to increase the likelihood of chancing upon him was something she did not wish to examine too closely just then.
She’d chalk it up to needing a distraction and leave it at that.
And if nothing else, Lord Hugo Brelsford was an excellent distraction.
Adaline stepped into the corridor with Lucy and they made their way toward the grand staircase leading to the foyer, her nerves on edge.
She did not need to wait long, however. Lord Hugo stood near one of the balustrades, leaning against the polished wood while he laughed at something an acquaintance said.
The golden light illuminated the sharp line of his jaw and the seams of his jacket strained ever so slightly when he crossed his arms and looked around.
Then he glanced her way and smiled. He leaned toward his friend, saying something though his eyes didn’t leave hers. The friend nodded, and Lord Hugo walked toward her.
“Go on, Ada,” Lucy said.
Adaline hesitated, glancing behind her toward the entrance near their box.
Her mother stood just outside the archway, a drink in hand, conversing with several acquaintances.
But she watched her, and Hugo’s approach, with thinly veiled disapproval.
But at this point, with Lord Hugo obviously headed in her direction, doing anything but turning to greet him would result in more scandalous gossip.
And as that aligned with her wishes, she moved toward him, crossing the corridor with measured and careful steps.
“Good evening, Miss Girard,” Lord Hugo said, his voice warm and low.
“Lord Hugo,” she said with a small curtsy.
“I confess I had hoped to see you tonight.”
“Did you?” she asked, both delighted and surprised.
“Of course. You brighten the room considerably.” He leaned toward her with a conspiratorial smile. “And I have no doubt my prospects for entertainment are much improved with you in the vicinity.”
“You mean your prospects for surviving whatever form of recklessness you deem entertainment are much improved with me in the vicinity.”
His laughter rang out, and she could not help but smile.
“There, you see. My enjoyment of the evening has already improved a hundred-fold.” His smile sent her heart racing. “Though I would argue that you cannot accuse me of recklessness without also accusing yourself. It was not I, after all, who nearly died trying to capture a bird’s nest.”
Adaline let out an exaggerated sigh. “You are being creative again, my lord.”
“Am I?” he asked, his brows raised in mock surprise. “That hardly seems in my nature.”
Adaline stared at him, her face void of all expression as she blinked at him, and Hugo’s laughter rang out again.
“Oh very well, I shall attempt to rein in my embellishments.”
“Hmm, is that even possible?” Adaline asked, cocking an eyebrow.
“Ah, I did say attempt, Miss Girard. Not succeed.”
She laughed despite herself. “So you did.”
His smile sent a tingling warmth through her, especially when his gaze lingered on her. To her mortification, her cheeks flushed, and she quickly looked away, hoping he didn’t notice. Though, judging by the amused twinkle in his eyes, he had.
“I do hope you have been enjoying your evening,” he said.
“I have,” she answered, grateful he had the grace to not mention her obvious reaction to him. “Though I confess, I have been much distracted.”
“Hmm” he murmured, the suddenly deeper timber of his voice sending a delicious tingle down her spine. “Well, if I have been the cause of that distraction, I cannot say I am sorry.”
She swallowed past her suddenly dry throat and shook her head, though she could not help but smile. “You have a very high opinion of yourself, my lord.”
He nodded. “This is true.” He leaned in closer, close enough she could feel the warmth of his breath upon her cheek. “Though I must confess, I hope that your own opinion of me might be similarly as high. Someday.”
Adaline breath caught in her throat, and she raised startled eyes to meet his. Eyes that gazed down at her in perfect sincerity.
“I…” she said, her voice hardly more than a whisper.
“My apologies for interrupting,” Lucy said, stepping closer. Lord Hugo’s eyes widened at the sight of Lucy, but his smile was genuine when he gave her a gallant bow.
“Mrs. Harrow, what a delight to see you here.”
“Thank you,” she said, her smile slightly strained. “I am fortunate that my cousin enjoys my company.”
“Hmm, yes, Lord Hugo is also fortunate that his cousin enjoys his company as much as she does, or he would be left alone and bereft, I have no doubt,” a feminine voice said.
They turned to find Miss Archard approaching with Lord Hugo’s mother, the Duchess of Haltham. Miss Archard smiled warmly at Adaline. But the duchess was decidedly less amiable.
“Miss Girard, how lovely to see you again,” Miss Archard said.
“Thank you, Miss Archard. Your Grace,” she said, turning to bob another curtsy.
The duchess nodded, though her expression remained cool and distant. Lord Hugo’s forehead furrowed as he looked at his mother, but before anyone could say anything else, Lucy spoke again.
“I do apologize, but your brother sent me for you, Adaline.”
“Yes, Hugo, the next performance should begin shortly. I wonder if you could fetch me some champagne before it does,” the duchess said.
“Of course, Mother.” He bowed his head toward her, then turned back to Adaline. “Miss Girard, Mrs. Harrow, I do hope you will enjoy the rest of your evening.”
He bowed to them and took his leave. Once he was gone, the duchess didn’t bother staying, though she at least gave Adaline the courtesy of a nod, icy though it was, before turning her back. Had she given Adaline the cut direct, she never would have recovered what little reputation she had left.
Lucy, however, was incensed and made no secret of it. But Adaline just sighed.
“I can hardly blame her, I suppose. My family is no better when it comes to the Brelsfords.” She herself had been no better mere weeks ago. “As you can see for yourself,” she muttered, watching an infuriated Henry storm to her side.
“Adaline,” Henry said, coming to her side. “I sent Lucy for you ages ago. Why are you dawdling about here? Speaking to those whom I have already deemed wholly inappropriate?”
He cast a glare behind her and Adaline turned to see Hugo speaking with another gentleman a few feet away.
“Keep your voice down,” Adaline hissed. “Besides, you did not deem him, or at least his brother, so inappropriate a few months ago. I should think you would encouragement my attachment to someone as well situated as a Brelsford.”
“Are you saying that your friendship with him might result in a match?” Henry said, his tone suddenly more calculating than offended.
Adaline snorted and looped her arm through Lucy’s, pulling her away from her exasperating brother.
“Adaline,” he said, hurrying after her. “I forbid it.”
She raised a brow. “Just a moment ago, you seemed intrigued by the possibility.”
“I was surprised. How you can so casually converse with a man who all but ruined you, I will never understand.”
Adaline let out a long-suffering sigh. “You bear just as much, if not more responsibility for our recent fall from grace as he, Henry. The only difference is, Lord Hugo has had the maturity to admit his faults.”
Henry’s lips pinched together. “Just keep your distance from him,” he said before marching away.
Adaline glanced at Lucy and rolled her eyes, laughing with her as they made their way back into the theater.
They settled back into their seats to find that the rest of their box had been filled with several members of a new party.
They typically shared the box with the Dresdens, friends of Adaline’s parents.
But the Dresdens did occasionally rent out their seats when they wouldn’t be attending.
Adaline blinked in surprise to find herself beside Lady Markham.
Lady Markham was a stunningly beautiful woman.
And a notorious one. She had been the mistress of more than one high profile man, men who had made her very wealthy before leaving her.
And then one day, she had disappeared for a few weeks, only to reappear married to the reclusive Lord Markham.
No one knew the particulars of their union, though it was rumored it had been an arranged match.
Though who would arrange such a marriage, no one knew.
Certainly not Lord Markham’s family. He was the son of the Earl of Rothendale.
Gloriously wealthy, but only a third son for all that.
And horribly disfigured from a childhood accident.
Though Adaline had always thought he was still handsome, if one looked closely enough. Though he gave few the opportunity.
In any case, the two had been the talk of the ton for months.
And they still caused a stir when they appeared in public, which they rarely did.
So to find herself sitting beside Lady Markham was unexpected indeed.
Her husband was not with her, though that was not so unusual.
Lord Markham preferred to stay out of the public eye.
“Good evening, Miss Girard,” Lady Markham said. “I do hope you do not mind sharing your box with me this evening.”
“Not at all, Lady Markham. I will be happy for your company. I hope you are enjoying your evening.”
“Oh, yes, my dear. I always enjoy myself. But I would much rather talk about you. Your mother tells me it is past time for you to find a match.”
Adaline’s eyes widened, flicking quickly to her mother, who was doing her level best to pretend she was engrossed in the performance taking place below them on stage. Adaline smelled an ambush.
“I…would like to marry one day, yes. Should the right man come along.”
“Oh, my dear. They never simply come along. Not willingly anyway,” Lady Markham said with a chuckle.
“Most of them need a little help. The theater is a veritable garden of prospects this evening, I must say. Take young Lord Calendish there,” she said, nodding toward where a tall, gangly fellow stood conversing with a few older gentlemen.
“He is newly returned from Oxford and looking for a wife.
His mother assures me he is both amiable and well-mannered, and certainly wealthy.
“Sir Reginald Beckswith,” she added, nodding in another direction at a rather rotund gentleman with a receding hairline, but a kind enough face.
“He is perhaps too somber for a girl of your nature, but he is, nevertheless, a most eligible match. Heir to his grandfather’s title and fortune, though that man might very well outlive the entire line of Beckswiths.
He is already seen eight decades and is hale and hearty enough to see at least one more, I’d wager. ”
Adaline couldn’t help but chuckle at the woman’s increasingly outlandish commentary on the eligible bachelors at hand. And, she had to admit, the information was useful. If she didn’t already have two prospects lodged firmly in her head. And…her heart.
Lady Markham leaned closer with a conspiratorial whisper. “I have it on good authority that one of our most eligible bachelors has been quite besotted of late.”
“Oh?” Adaline asked with a smile. A good bit of gossip was always diverting, provided it wasn’t about her, of course.
“Oh yes. Lord Hugo Brelsford has, by some accounts, been most unlike himself. They say he has been attending every event possible in the hopes of encountering a certain young lady.”
Lady Markham’s eyes twinkled, and Adaline’s heart skipped a few beats.
“Is…is that so?” she asked, her mouth suddenly dry. She couldn’t be the one he sought, could she? And if she was…did she want to be? Their families would never approve. And it wasn’t so long ago that she would have rather chopped off his hand than accept it in marriage. But now…
Lady Markham glanced about, cataloging the parade of theatergoers with a practiced eye. “I am merely an observer at heart, you know. And I adore a good romance.” She winked at Adaline. “But I do advise caution, Miss Girard. Love is rarely a simple affair. And most hearts are rife with secrets.”
Well, Adaline knew the truth of that well enough. Her own heart harbored too many of them. And she couldn’t help but wonder what secrets Lord Hugo’s might hold. Or Mayhem’s, for that matter.
She let out a small sigh. While she appreciated Lady Markham’s insight and advice, their conversation had left her even more confused than before.
The lady continued to regale Adaline with the latest gossip and tales of romantic intrigues.
Adaline listened with amusement, though her gaze drifted again and again to the Duke of Haltham’s box, where Lord Hugo sat surrounded by his friends and family.
And when finally their gazes met, and held, she offered him a tentative smile.
Only he did not return it.
He did give her a brief nod, at least not subjecting her to a public rebuff.
But her heart sank at the stony expression on his usually jovial face.
His gaze held hers a moment longer, with no hint of the warmth or flirtatious merriment he had exuded only a short time before, before flicking away, leaving her reeling with hurt and confusion.
What had transpired in the last hour that had changed his demeanor toward her so thoroughly?
Even when he had not been seeking her out, when they had been all but enemies, he had still shown some emotion toward her, negative though it had been.
But that was far preferable to the distant indifference he had just shown.
As if she were a stranger he had no desire to meet.
Though she wanted to make her escape right then, she refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing he had wounded her.
So she remained, stoic and determined, until the performance had ended before taking her leave.
She did not look at him again. Would not give him another opportunity to hurt and humiliate her.
She should have known better from the start.
He had shown her who he was from the beginning, from the moment he had goaded Henry into believing he could arrange a match to his elder brother.
He might have played the charming rogue since then, but something must have changed.
Or perhaps he could simply no longer hold his facade in place.
Either way, it seemed she had the answer she had sought.