Chapter 18 Kitty #2
Upon entering the drawing room, Sebastian’s gaze lifted to meet mine, and he froze, his expression shifting from surprise to something I couldn’t quite decipher.
His eyes swept over me with an intensity that sent a flutter to my stomach.
With the angry wound slashed across his cheek, he appeared all the more roguish.
I forced a smile, determined to remain poised. “Shall we go?”
A flicker of something—regret, perhaps?—crossed his face. He offered his arm, but as he did, his hand brushed mine, lingering a moment longer than necessary.
“Kitty, I . . .” He trailed off, words hovering, unspoken.
For a fleeting second, I thought he might reveal what lay beneath his calm facade. That perhaps this was not merely a farewell evening. But before I could muster the courage to ask, he offered a slight, almost reluctant smile.
“Yes, to the opera,” I said.
As we moved toward the door, his hand still hovering at my elbow, I swallowed the swell of words I dared not speak.
The grand foyer of the King’s Theatre unfolded before me, a sweeping expanse of marble and gilded mirrors that caught and multiplied the glow of chandeliers hanging overhead. I stepped forward, clutching my gloved hands tightly to keep from trembling.
My gown—a deep teal with emerald peacock embroidery along the hem and bodice—clashed with the sea of white dresses surrounding me.
A feathered plume in the same striking shade swept up from my coiffed hair, dancing with every move I made.
For a moment, I wondered if I was too much—too vivid, too . . . foreign.
But I held my chin high, ignoring the curious glances from the other attendees lining the foyer. Let them look. Tonight, I had chosen to be seen, to stand out from the demure elegance around me. Freddy remained by my side as we waited for Sebastian and Edward.
A gentleman had stopped my brother and waved Sebastian into their conversation.
I was tired tonight . . . too disheartened to pretend at social niceties and engage in small talk, preferring to move in the direction of the private box Edward had secured.
We climbed the stairs. Voices drifted from a small gathering of ladies tucked inside the nearest box.
The open entrance allowed me to hear more than I intended.
“Lord Chudley—” One woman’s shrill voice caught my attention. “His family is teetering on the edge of ruin, I hear. Practically destitute.”
I tripped upon hearing his name, recovering my balance after I bumped into Freddy.
“It’s no wonder his sister aimed her sights at a certain gentleman at the garden party. A pity she missed her mark,” another woman answered.
Did they mean Sebastian? I hoped not.
“Ah, but our Lord Chudley needn’t worry,” chimed a third woman. “Haven’t you heard? They say Miss Grenville will be his salvation. The two are practically engaged based upon the gossip rags. Oh yes, she danced with him twice, even when her name had been linked to Mr. Sinclair’s.”
“What a coquette!” Another female tittered.
A hollow laugh rippled through the group of women.
My breath caught, my pulse quickening as I took in their words. Engaged? To Lord Chudley? How dare they presume such a thing! Freddy and I exchanged glances as I tightened my grip on my fan.
“Is it true?” she whispered to me.
“Not in the slightest. It appears Lord Chudley is a fortune hunter after all, just as my grandfather warned.” I hated that he had been right.
The conversation continued regarding Lord Chudley’s desperation to marry an heiress before the season ended.
“Poor man. At least Miss Grenville’s fortune makes up for her brother’s behavior. And such a fortune! Lady Barrington said the Iron Colonel brought back chests of gold from India.”
“All the rupees in the empire cannot purchase breeding,” another woman protested.
Freddy made an inarticulate sound in the back of her throat.
My anger burned hot—not at the gossiping women but at myself. How could I have been so na?ve? How could I let Lord Chudley’s attentions linger long enough to invite this speculation? The rumors felt like a condemnation of my foolishness. I turned to flee.
In doing so, my gaze snagged on Edward and Sebastian approaching from the opposite direction. They were heading toward our rented box. Had they heard the gossip? The thought made my stomach twist.
Each step toward the box felt heavier than the last. I watched as Edward opened the gilded door and held it for Sebastian, who stepped inside first. I took a deep breath and followed Freddy, steeling myself for what awaited me. How many of the ton would speak of the gossip before the night ended?
Inside our box, Sebastian stood by the railing, looking out over the audience below, his profile lit in the dim glow.
He moved forward to take my hand. “I did not tell you earlier, but you look . . . beautiful.”
I forced a smile, swallowing the ache in my throat. “Thank you, Sebastian.”
“Is everything all right?” he asked as he led me to the red velvet seat.
I hesitated, struggling with the whirlwind of emotions inside me. “Yes,” I replied, though the word felt like a lie.
But as I settled beside him, my heart knew the truth. Everything was far from all right. Freddy handed me the opera glasses.
“Would you care for a closer look at the orchestra?”
In order to take my mind off the events, I held the glasses to my eyes, the images of the musicians sharpening to focus. Swiveling the glasses, I caught sight of the private boxes on the opposite side of the theatre.
And a man observing me. A man with blond hair and a cravat stark against his black suit.
Lord Chudley—staring at us. Or me, rather.
Flushing, I handed the glasses back to Freddy.
The music swelled as Don Giovanni unfolded before us, a story of seduction and revenge filling the opera house. But even as the performers captivated the audience, I found myself only half listening, my mind circling back to the whispers I’d overheard.
A discreet glance at the box across from us revealed Lord Chudley remaining seated near the railing. Even without the opera glasses, it seemed his gaze was fixed in our direction. My stomach twisted at the thought, a prickling unease creeping along my skin.
Had he started the rumor?
The characters on stage conspired and whispered, each hiding their true feelings, hoping to gain something more—a place, a fortune, a bit of freedom.
I understood them all too well. The scene shifted, and I stole a glance at Sebastian.
He glanced at me, his hand close on the armrest, his fingers just grazing mine.
The opera wore on, and I sat there feeling as though I, too, were trapped in a tale of pretense and deception, afraid to reach for the life I truly wanted.
When the curtain closed, Edward rose from his seat. “Shall we enjoy the intermission?”
We all exited the box, my heart pounding. To my dismay, several heads turned to observe our small party as we wandered the hall.
The rumor must be everywhere. Whispers, speculative glances. Each one a knife twisting in my chest. Lord Chudley had never asked for my hand. And yet, here I was, thrust into the center of a scandal I couldn’t control.
The sound of hurried footsteps behind me snapped me from my thoughts. I turned, my heart sinking as Lord Chudley appeared in the hallway, his smile as sparkling as his golden cravat pin.
“Miss Grenville,” he greeted, his voice carrying just enough charm to make my skin crawl. “You truly brighten the evening.”
Sebastian pivoted sharply, his scowl deepening.
The earl’s intrusion felt brazen, especially here, in the open setting of the opera hall. Freddy and Edward exchanged glances, their curiosity palpable as they waited for me.
“Lord Chudley,” I acknowledged with a cool nod. “You have caught me at a disadvantage.”
“On the contrary, I count myself fortunate,” he said, stepping closer, far closer than was proper in such a public setting, and worse, drawing attention from nearby patrons. “Might we speak privately?”
Embarrassment heated through me. Lord Chudley’s voice, unnaturally loud, seemed to draw even more attention.
“If you’ll excuse me—” I told Sebastian. He did not move away from me, but instead flexed his fingers as if itching for a sword hilt.
I edged a step toward the column, trying to put space between them before the confrontation grew worse.
“Lord Chudley, I really would prefer not to be late for the second act.” I lowered my voice.
The earl appeared unfazed, although he darted a glance at Sebastian. “Dare I hope you received my notes and flowers? I—”
“I did,” I answered as flatly as I could. “I have nothing more to say on the matter. Do not waste your funds on me.” I turned away from him.
“You misunderstand me,” he said quickly, reaching a hand toward me as if to detain me.
“Wait.” Lord Chudley’s voice dropped, though not enough to keep others from hearing the urgency in his tone.
“I understand certain rumors regarding our attachment have circulated through the ton. I assure you, my suggestion of an engagement stemmed solely from my ardent admiration for you. I had no idea my affection would interest all of London. But since the ton expect us—”
Such a grandiose claim! My jaw tightened. “Then allow me to clarify, my lord. Any rumors of an attachment are entirely unfounded.”
His mouth dropped open. “Miss Grenville, if you would but allow it, I would seek your hand in marriage with the colonel tomorrow since you have clearly not accepted Mr. Sinclair’s suit. Have I been so misled by your attentions? Katherine?”
The familiarity of my name on his lips felt like a slap.
“You have misled yourself.” I backed away from him.
“And this conversation is beyond improper, as I’m sure you are aware.
You should be more careful with your admiration, Lord Chudley.
Such words have consequences. You have done irreparable damage to me to assure the world I accepted your proposal. ”