Page 20 of The Duke's Bride in Disguise
"Er—" Ava's heart thundered in her ears as Georgiana gave her an appraising look. Was it possible that the young lady recognised her as the shop-assistant from Mr Hobbs'?
"I know what it is," Georgiana said with a smile, "You're glowing; now, you must tell me if you glow for my Uncle, or with excitement at seeing Mr McCasey tread the boards."
"I have always wanted to see McCasey perform," Ava replied, relieved that Georgiana had not recognised who she truly was—though a little disgruntled all the same. Was Mary right—did the higher classes look through servants and not at them?
"And I," Georgiana whispered back, "I had to beg Mama to let me come. It's not quite the done thing when one isn't out."
Was it not? Ava had a tenuous grasp of what was acceptable and what was not in the eyes of theton. Just when she thought she had mastered the rules, Mary would point out another thing she was doing wrong. A lady might have dozens of beautiful dresses, jewels and carriages at her disposal, Ava thought, but she had very little freedom.
"Fiddlesticks to propriety," Ava whispered, "McCasey is too good to miss."
"My, my," a low voice said with amusement, "I did not know that my wife to be was a secret society rebel. Whatever would the matrons of Almack's think if they were to hear you?"
"Your Grace," Ava turned to her left where, unobserved, the Duke of Kilbride had slipped into the vacant seat beside her. She saw that his handsome face wore an expression of amusement rather than annoyance, and breathed a sigh of relief. She really must take more care with what she said, or she would give the game away.
"Not a rebel," Ava replied delicately, "Rather, I am an appreciator of genius. I don't see why Lady Georgiana should be deprived the opportunity to see McCasey perform, just because some stuffy so and so has declared it improper."
"Nor do I," Kilbride replied with an easy smile, "That is why I insisted her Mama allow her to come."
Kilbride waved lazily across the box at the woman seated beside Lord Fairfax. The Dowager Duchess of Kilbride smiled tightly back at him. The duchess was a beautiful woman, with flaxen hair like her daughter's, though she still dressed in half-mourning, despite the fact that her husband and son had been dead for well over a year.
"Laura is finding it all rather difficult," Kilbride confided in a low whisper to Ava, once he was certain that Georgiana's attention was elsewhere, "If she had her way, neither she nor Georgiana would ever leave the house."
"I suppose it's only natural," Ava replied, hiding her astonishment at the intimacy of his conversation, "To want to wrap her only remaining child in cotton wool."
"True," Kilbride gave a heavy sigh and stared out across the theatre. Below them, the packed theatre was packed with crowds jostling, talking, and shouting jubilantly--but Kilbride's sad countenance was in direct contrast to the revellers below.
He is grieving too, Ava thought sadly; the loss of his brother and his nephew must have been a horrific blow—and yet Kilbride tried to put a brave face on the matter.
"Do you miss them?" she questioned in a whisper, so struck by his obvious pain that she longed to reach out and stroke his brow in comfort.
"Yes," Kilbride's reply was curt, though as he turned and caught the startled look on Ava's face, his expression softened. "I miss them both desperately; but my grief in nothing compared to that of Laura and Georgiana."
"It is there though," Ava said earnestly in reply, "Do not dismiss it because you think it not worthy. You have every right to grieve the loss of your brother and nephew. An unexamined wound will only ever fester."
And then, wishing to comfort him, Ava reached out her hand and gave the duke's arm a squeeze.
Goodness, as soon as she touched him she knew that she had made a mistake. Her hand, even through her satin glove, hummed and thrummed with energy upon contact with the duke's forearm. Even through his coat sleeve, she could feel how hard and muscular his arm was. His masculinity was a little shocking, for she had not once thought about what lay beneath his perfectly tailored clothing—and now it was all she could think of.
Kilbride too seemed a little shocked, staring down at his jacket sleeve as though it belonged to someone else and not he.
Fiddlesticks, Ava thought, praying for something to distract them from her foolishness.
"Oh, it's starting," Lady Georgiana whispered with excitement, as the gas lights of the theatre dimmed and the actors walked out on the stage.
Thank heavens for that, Ava thought with relief, though for the entirety of the play, she was acutely conscious of the man seated next to her. The duke was so large that he completely dominated the space, and by the play's end, Ava was utterly flustered.
"What did you think?" Kilbride asked, as the curtain fell and the gas lights illuminated the theatre once more. "Was McCasey everything you thought he would be?"
"And more," Ava replied with a quick smile, though in truth, she had not been able to pay much attention to the drama unfolding below, as her attention had been occupied by the man seated next to her.
Dash him anyway, she thought with irritation.
There was much hustling and bustling as the assembled group gathered their belongings and made their way for the door. Lord Fairfax was deep in conversation with the dowager duchess, Georgiana was chattering excitedly to Theo and Beatrice, and so the only person left for Ava to fall into step with was Kilbride. They made their way quietly toward the main staircase, Ava feeling overly aware of the silence between them. It was not an easy silence, but rather a tense one, as though something was weighing on Kilbride's mind that he could not voice.
"I wanted to apologise, if I have been curt with you. It was not my intention at all."
His words came out in a rush, catching Ava off guard. Around the pair, the crowd surged, as streams of people made their way to the foyer, but even in the crush Ava felt as though they were completely alone.
