“I’m notthat respectable,” Lady Olivia said.
Annabel’s lips parted in shock.
“She is completely respectable,” Louisa hastily whispered to Annabel. “She’s just, oh, never mind.”
Once again, everyone knew everything about everyone else. Except Annabel.
Annabel just sighed. Or not really. She couldn’t sigh in such a close gathering; it would be hopelessly uncouth. But she wanted to sigh. Something inside of her felt like it sighed.
Lady Cosgrove arrived on the scene and immediately took Louisa’s arm. “Lady Olivia,” she said with a cordial nod. “Mr. Grey.”
They returned the greeting, Mr. Grey with a smart bow and Lady Olivia with a curtsy so graceful it ought to be criminal.
“I have invited Lady Olivia and Mr. Grey to join us at the opera tonight,” Louisa said.
“Of course,” Lady Cosgrove said politely. “Lady Olivia, please do give my regards to your mother. I have not seen her in an age.”
“She has had a bit of a cold,” Lady Olivia replied, “but she is almost recovered. I am sure she would be delighted if you called upon her.”
“Perhaps I shall do that.”
Annabel watched the exchange with interest. Lady Cosgrove had not cut Mr. Grey, but she had managed not to speak a word in his direction after first greeting him. It was curious. She had not thought he was such a persona non grata. After all, he was heir to the earldom of Newbury, even if only the heir presumptive.
She would have to ask Louisa about this. When she was done killing her for inviting him to the opera.
Further pleasantries were exchanged, but it was apparent that Lady Cosgrove meant to remove her charges and depart. Not to mention Frederick, who looked as if he’d like to conduct some business in the shrubbery.
“Until this evening, Miss Winslow,” Mr. Grey said, leaning over her hand once again.
Annabel tried not to react as the touch of his lips on her hand sent a tingle up her arm. “Until this evening,” she repeated.
And as she watched him stroll away, she could not remember when she had looked forward to anything more.
Chapter Nine
Sebastian was rather surprised by how much he was looking forward to the opera that evening. Not that he wasn’t a fan; he was, even if he had now seenThe Magic Flute enough times to recite both of the Queen of the Night’s arias from memory.
Another item to add to his list of useless talents.
He wasn’t quite sure why the theatrical companies of Great Britain kept insisting upon performing the same opera over and over again. He supposed it was for the benefit of the scores of Englishmen too stubborn to learn a foreign language. It was easier, in Seb’s opinion, to follow along with a comedy than a tragedy. Or at the very least, know when to laugh.
But as much as he wanted to see the opera from the exalted position of the Fenniwick box, he wanted to seeher more.
Miss Winslow.
Miss Annabel Winslow.
Annabel.
He liked that name. There was something bucolic about it, something that smelled clean, like grass.
He did not know many women who would find such a comparison complimentary, but somehow he suspected Miss Winslow would.
Other than that, he knew little about her, save for the fact that she’d befriended the daughter of a duke. It was a smart move for any young lady looking to elevate herself in the ranks of society, but Miss Winslow and Lady Louisa had seemed truly to enjoy each other’s company.
Another point in Miss Winslow’s favor. Sebastian never could abide those who faked friendship to advance their position.
He also knew that she had an unwanted suitor. This was nothing out of the ordinary; most young ladies of acceptable looks and/or fortune had an unwanted suitor or two. Whatwas interesting was that she had actually fled the party to avoid the man. It could mean that he was particularly heinous.
Or that she was given to foolish behavior.
Or that said suitor had made an unwanted advance.
Or that she had overreacted.
Sebastian considered the options as he rode to the opera house. If he were writing the story (and he did not discount the possibility that someday he might; itdid sound like something out of a Gorely novel), how wouldhe do it?
The suitor would have to be dreadful. Very rich, perhaps with a title—someone who could exert pressure on her poor, penniless family. Not that he had the slightest clue if Miss Winslow’s family was poor and penniless, but it did make for a better plot that way.
He would have attacked her in a darkened corner, away from the party. No, that wouldn’t do. It would be too early in the novel for such drama, and probably too lurid for his audience. His readers did not actually want to see a woman fending off an unwanted advance; they only wanted to read about people gossiping about it after the fact.
Or at least that was what his publisher told him.
Very well, if she hadn’t been attacked, then perhaps she had been blackmailed. Sebastian felt himself perk up. Blackmail wasalways a good story element. He used it almost every time.
“Guv!”
Sebastian blinked and looked up. He hadn’t even realized that he’d arrived at the opera house. He’d taken a hired hack, unpleasant though it was. He did not keep a carriage of his own, and he’d told Olivia that she and Harry need not pick him up on their way. Better to give the not-quite-newlyweds some time alone.
Harry would thank him for it later, Seb was sure.
Sebastian hopped down, paid the driver, and made his way inside. He was a bit early, but there were already quite a few people milling about, seeing and being seen in their glittered finery.
He made his way slowly through the crowd, chatting with acquaintances, smiling, as he always did, at the young ladies who least expected it. The evening was promising all sorts of delight, and then, just when he’d almost made it across to the stairs—
His uncle.
Sebastian stiffened, barely suppressing his groan. He did not know why he was surprised; it made perfect sense that the Earl of Newbury would be attending the opera, especially if he was on the prowl for a new wife. Still, he had been in such a good mood. It seemed almost criminal that his uncle should be here to spoil it.
Normally, he’d have changed his course so as to avoid him. Seb was no coward, but really, why go out of one’s way to encounter unpleasantness?
Unfortunately, there was no escaping him this time. Newbury had seen Sebastian,
