Page 66 of Romanced By the Orc

She tilted her chin. A sharp arrow of worry stabbed Albion’s chest at what she might disclose.

“I hope Your Royal Highness shall not hold that against my husband, for he can’t help being fiendishly good at games of chance. But what say you? If forced to lay a wager on it? Who is the Phantom of Chamberly really?”

Albion’s hands curled into fists, and he swung them behind his back, implementing all the breathing and calming exercises he had learned in school. Though his English reserve remained unshakable, His Royal Highness widened his eyes. Albion held his breath briefly as the Regent’s gaze rested momentarily on his.

“Why, your wife is blessedly bold, Lord Albion,” he said at last. “Whoever knows that gentleman’s name is due to receive a rather large reward, are they not?”

“So I’ve heard it told,” Albion replied, slowly exhaling.

“Oh, I have no such notions,” Diana said quickly. “I merely thought Your Royal Highness might have a theory.”

“Yes, well, theories without evidence are like ailments of the digestive system. Best kept to oneself.”

The Prince Regent straightened his waistcoat over his stomach as the bells chimed to relay to the audience that the interval was coming to a close.

“One should return before curtain up. As for the fate of Chamberly and its self-anointed savior, we shall see how that unfolds. All one can say with any certainty is how appealing the ladies find tales of these daring escapades.”

After the Prinny left, Albion settled into the cushioned seat alongside his wife. Diana’s dainty hands rested on the banister before them. She tapped the base of the fan lightly on the railing and turned to him with a mysterious smile.

“Prinny is certainly fond of you,” she said in a falsely merry tone. “I knew the two of you were friendly, but it is most impressive to witness in person.”

As she stared at the stage, biting her lower lip, her fingers threading anxiously, Albion wondered if he had taken the wrong tack. He could present her with what Reginald had told him and hear her side of the sad tale. They could slip out of the box before the next act commenced and hash out the entire unfortunate affair.

He was about to suggest just that when he caught Daisy’s gaze as she turned to him. There was a quality to it he hadn’t seen before.

Deception.

At every point in their relationship, he had admired the frank and open look in her eyes. It wasn’t guileless, precisely, for she was far too intelligent. But it was fearless, daring him to ask her any question.

Now, her visage glazed over—the artifice he was accustomed to seeing in thetonbut never in Diana.

He resumed the lazy drawl. “Prinny certainly seemed charmed byyou, my lady.”

“I think the Regent knows far more about the identity of the Benevolent Phantom than he lets on. Did you not see him wince before responding?”

“I noticed no such thing. But then I don’t rate myself a keen observer of human behavior. You must talk to Dunc about all that. Why, he literally wrote the book on the subject.”

“You are as clever in such matters as your brother. More so, for you’re also clever enough not to make a fantastical show of it. You saw the same as I did. His hesitation. Why, I believe the Regent knows exactly who the Phantom is, and I intend to interrogate him further later tonight.”

Albion regarded her steadily. “It seems I have a rival in the Prince Regent.”

“Nonsense!” she declared, giving her fan a last tap against the iron handrail and then unfolding its sticks and waving the leaves’ pleated folds before her face. He could only see her eyes. “How can one fall in love with a ghost?”

Albion shrugged. “Don’t ask me. Ask the other ladies who have done just that.”

“Tell me, Albie. Have any of those ladies said anything to you? Have you the means to ascertain the Phantom’s identity?”

Her sudden curiosity set any remnant of his trust in her at a distinct disadvantage. “Bless me, no. Perhaps I should double my efforts at capturing the essence of the Phantom in verse. I’ll try some new lines at Lord Mandeville’s ball.”

He thought the words would disturb her. Maybe he wanted to provoke a fight, if for no other reason than to stimulate some emotion beyond this curt politeness. But Diana only continued to flutter the fan.

With a sinking feeling, he realized that only could he not trust his wife, but she would grow less and less inclined to view him as a husband. Not as an object of desire, but of pity.

The marriage he had aspired to turn into a love match was no more than an alliance. And a frayed one, at that.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

After the opera, Albion and Diana added the third member of their party for the ball. His name naturally took precedence when it came to Lord Mandeville’s footman’s grand announcement.

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