Page 33 of The Viscount's Unwanted Bride
Excitement flittered inside her like butterfly wings, and she forced herself to stop staring at him, even if she was doing so sneakily.
“Do I recall correctly that you hail from Oxfordshire?” she asked, curling her fingers into her palms to prevent herself from silently tracing the clean lines of his figure.
“I do.” He turned toward her, his expression unchanging. So solemn. There was such a veil of sadness that hung about him. “I was born at Blackwell Hall, which is a short distance from the town of South Wye. Longley Estate is in Suffolk, is it not?”
“It is.” She wondered if he’d researched the family or remembered that fact unaided. “Do you like the country?”
“I like its peacefulness and how easy it is to recuperate there. London bustle can be exhausting. That said, there are aspects of London that I like too. And you, my lady? Do you have a preference?”
“I also find enjoyment in both.” She considered her next question. She was doing her best to get a sense of the man—and whether he harbored any latent homicidal impulses—but it wasn’t as if she could directly ask him whether he’d killed his wife and intended to do so again if the need arose. “Do you have family who reside at Blackwell Hall?”
“My mother stays there when it suits her. At present, she is in Oxfordshire, but I have no doubt that she’ll visit London soon. She can never stay away from society for long.”
There was a certain type of fondness in his voice. Certainly, a man who cared for his mother couldn’t be a heartless murderer, could he?
Honestly, she was having a difficult time reading him, which was unusual. It generally didn’t take much for her to get an inkling of what made others tick. It didn’t help that he seemed different now than he had on the balcony. There had beensomething carefree about him then. A lightness he no longer possessed.
He confused her.
The show began, and she settled in to watch. She had a tolerable singing voice, but she’d always been amazed by those who could perform so flawlessly to such intimidatingly huge crowds.
She leaned closer to the edge of the box and hung on every word. She was pleased they were watching a comedy rather than a tragedy. She didn’t have a taste for drama the way some people did.
No one in their box spoke until the intermission when Lord Blackwell stood and rolled his shoulders back.
“Would you like a drink?” he asked, focusing that dark gaze on her. “I can brave the throng while you remain here. Lemonade, perhaps?”
“Yes, please.” She was a little thirsty.
Lady Drake requested a glass too. As soon as he was gone, she ducked her head near to Kate’s. “What do you think of him?”
Kate grimaced. “I’m unsure what to make of him.”
Lady Drake nodded. “He seems solicitous but aloof. He’s certainly striking, in an unusual way.”
“He is,” she admitted. “Part of me wants to draw him.”
Lady Drake nudged her. “Perhaps one day you will.”
“Perhaps.” But she wasn’t rushing into anything.
Lord Blackwell came back a few minutes later, carrying a drink in each hand. He offered one to Kate and the other to her mother. Their fingers brushed as she accepted the glass from him, and a shiver rippled through her despite the fact that she wasn’t cold.
Her eyes caught his, and her breath hitched. A slight narrowing of his eyes indicated that he’d felt the spark between them too. Neither of them acknowledged it out loud.
“What do you think of the show so far?” Kate asked, curling her fingers around the stem of her glass and savoring the tartness of lemon on her tongue.
“Miss Caradori is extraordinarily talented.”
He sat, and she held her breath, almost hoping their legs might touch again. Alas, he was careful to keep a small amount of space between them.
“She is,” Kate agreed, disappointed that he had chosen not to comment on the storyline. Simply remarking upon something obvious gave her no insight into his personality.
“The costumes are wonderful,” Lady Drake said.
Lord Blackwell only nodded.
The intermission ended, and Kate became absorbed once again. However, the feel of eyes on her prevented her from being able to relax completely. Several times when she glanced up, she found someone staring at her. When Blackwell had fetched their drinks, he must have attracted enough attention to divert some members of the audience from the show on the stage.
