Chapter 15 #3
Relief hit with an almost visceral blow when he finally reached the safety of his room upstairs in the Loftons’ house.
Miles sank into a plush chair and slumped there until the fear of being accused all over again dimmed a bit.
He could breathe again—for the moment, anyway.
The threat would return sooner or later.
Could Miles simply explain the entire situation had resulted from false accusations?
No one in England had believed that at the time, so it was doubtful this reporter would either.
Memories stirred, unbidden and unwanted.
The shock of the moment he’d walked into the room he shared with Reginald Davies and found his friend prone on the floor with eyes staring, blank and unblinking, at Miles’s bed.
The terror of being interrogated by constables for hours at only sixteen years of age.
The unrelenting anger as everyone in the school and even his hometown turned against him, unwilling to believe the truth that he hadn’t had a thing to do with the tragic death.
A knock sounded at the door, and Alexander’s muffled voice called through it, “Miles? Are you going to the opera with us tonight?”
Miles wrenched out of the painful memories, confused by his surroundings until he noticed shadows stretching across the room.
It had grown late, and he’d forgotten all about the evening’s plans.
Previous to this summer, he would likely have taken advantage of the excuse of a bad day and remained at home.
But the prospect of seeing Sylvie lifted his spirits before he even rose from his chair.
“Ah, yes. I lost track of time, but I’ll dress immediately,” he called through the door while springing into action.
An hour later, he followed Alexander and Grace toward the opera house at Cedar Point.
The new building, tucked between the massive Hotel Breakers and the Grand Pavilion, faced the broad expanse of beach where guests still sat and played in the sand, even as evening fell.
Resort guests and opera goers crowded the wide boardwalk running in front of the Opera House.
In comparison with the hotel looming in the background and the beautiful covered porches of the Grand Pavilion, the Opera House wasn’t nearly as impressive on the outside.
But the inside was a different story. It was as magnificent as any opera house Miles had been to in England or New York, with intricate murals on the walls and gilded details gracing the architectural elements.
In the auditorium, plush seats provided a comfortable experience, and the electric lighting gave the perfect soft glow while still allowing people to see and be seen.
But Miles was only concerned with spotting a certain familiar face, the one that was becoming more precious by the day, despite his best efforts.
He sat in a second-story box with Alexander and Grace and attempted to maintain a conversation with them while awaiting the performance, but all the while, he was searching for Sylvie.
A moment with her would be just what he needed to clear his mind.
The skip in his heart and the hitch in his lungs when he finally saw her were undeniable signs he’d fallen harder than he’d intended. If he couldn’t convince her that his love was worth giving in to her mother, he was going to be in a mess.
She wore a white gown with a black lace overlay, beads sparkling across the entire thing. Her hair had been piled in a simple, loose style that brought attention to her face, with one black feather on a beaded headband as the only accent. She was stunning, and Miles couldn’t take his eyes off her.
A chuckle finally broke Miles out of his reverie. Alexander and Grace were both grinning at him, clearly having noticed the object of his interest. Alexander tipped his head in Sylvie’s direction. “There’s still time before the opera begins. You should go greet her.”
As if his body realized that he could when Alexander spoke the words, Miles found himself rising from his seat. “Yes, I believe I should.”
Inane, but he couldn’t seem to muster anything more sensible.
It was no small feat to traverse the hallways, which were crowded with all the members of society Miles had been meeting through the summer.
Unfortunately, that meant he was forced to stop and greet said acquaintances every few steps, slowing his progress.
By the time he reached the box where he’d glimpsed Sylvie, the orchestra was warming up, filling the air with stray notes and the occasional clunk of a music stand.
Miles pushed aside the curtain and started in, only to pause when the other occupants came into view.
Was that one of the gentlemen she’d been considering in her secret admirer investigation sitting next to her?
Mr. Kinsey, if Miles remembered correctly.
As he watched from behind them, Mr. Kinsey leaned close to whisper something to Sylvie, who giggled in response.
She…appeared to be enjoying herself. Miles swallowed hard.
Had his plan to be her secret admirer gone so far awry that she’d decided another man was writing the letters and allowed him to court her?