Page 28 of A Sinful Viscount's Mistletoe Affair
“Now, do not worry, everyone, there will be no cheating here! Isabella does not know which scene she and the duke will have to play out. I have added a surprise one!”
Isabella stifled a groan. Goodness only knew what her mother would have chosen. But as the party settled down into chairs around the drawing room, most of them with glasses of champagne in hand, she turned to her mother and took the piece of card she was holding out to her.
She tried to plead for an excuse with her eyes and tell her mother silently that she did not want to go through with this, but her mother simply raised an eyebrow, shook her head with the tiniest of movements, and then turned away.
The duke leaned forward as she turned over the card to reveal the charade they had to play out.
Romeo and Juliet – balcony scene, were the words written on the card in her mother’s elegant hand.
Isabella was barely able to stifle a sigh.
“Come now, Lady Isabella. It is not as bad as all that, is it?” the duke whispered. His head remained bent towards her, rather too intimately close for her liking, even though they had both now seen the name of the charade.
She shook her head. “Of course not, Your Grace.” She glanced at the assembled audience. “Shall we perhaps withdraw into the hallway to discuss our strategy for the performance?” she whispered.
He shook his head rather imperiously. “I’m sure that won’t be necessary. You are familiar with the scene, I take it?”
Her eyes widened with surprise at his question. She had been reading Shakespeare since she was a girl, and she would wager that she knew the scene far better than anyone else in the room, but she resisted the urge to reply to him as such. “Of course, Your Grace. I shall follow your lead.”
“Very well,” he murmured. “Come on then, let’s get it over with.”
Chapter 13
Sebastian felt a surge of jealousy as he watched Isabella and the duke whispering together. He had tried to avoid her all day, feeling completely unable to control his emotions when he was around her, but now he had no choice but to watch her as she performed whatever skit was coming with the imperious-looking Duke of Harbridge.
The duke stood now, with his arms in the air, gesticulating towards Isabella, who had found a large wooden box from somewhere and was standing on top of it.
She pressed her hands to her chest, where her heart was, and looked down at the duke. Sebastian imagined that she was trying to look enamoured, and he had a good idea of what the scene was that they were trying to depict, but the reality of it was that she looked rather agonized, as if she hated every moment of the experience of performing with the duke.
He could not help feeling slightly pleased; he knew he would not enjoy watching her looking comfortable and happy with another man. But then he told himself that he was being a beast. It was highly likely that she would marry this duke, from what he had overheard other guests at the house party saying during the course of the day.
He was rich and a perfect match for her in terms of status. And her parents clearly approved of the match and were, in fact, promoting it rather blatantly. But of course, it would be better for Isabella to marry someone she liked, rather than someone she did not want to be anywhere near.
Sebastian could not help noticing that her gaze kept creeping over to him. He had an excuse to be looking at her, as she was the one performing, but her glances were surreptitious, almost a little sly. Perhaps she was trying to communicate something to him with her eyes. He scarcely dared allow himself to imagine what she must be thinking.
Someone in the audience called out a suggestion as to what they were trying to depict, and the duke shook his head, then redoubled his efforts, waving his arms toward Isabella in an almost frenzied way. Sebastian saw her cheeks turn pink with what he imagined was embarrassment.
The whole spectacle was rather ridiculous. Her eyes slid towards him again, and he held her gaze, unable to tear his eyes away. Even when she was frustrated and tense, she was still the most beautiful woman in the room. In any room, Sebastian was certain.
He could bear it no longer. Clearly she was hating every moment of this, and he did not want to prolong her suffering when he had the power to end it.
“Romeo and Juliet!” he called out. “Act two, scene two.”
Lady Evermere looked over at him. “Bravo!” she cried, then glanced quickly at Isabella. “That is the correct scene, is it not?”
Isabella nodded and smiled over in Sebastian’s direction, a broad smile, which made something flutter in his chest.The brightness of her cheeks would shame those stars as daylight doth a lamp,he thought, as he watched her climbing down from the box with evident relief and walking away from the area where they had been performing without so much as a backward glance at the duke.
“And you know what this means, Lord Ashcroft?” Lady Evermere said, beckoning him towards her.
Sebastian’s heart sank. Of course, he had won the round by guessing the scene, so now he would have to perform. He wondered if he would be allowed to choose his own partner. He suspected not, and in any case, he was not sure he could ask Isabella to go through it all again, although he had a feeling that she might find the experience a little more enjoyable if she was at his side.
He stepped forward, smiling ruefully. “I think I can guess, My Lady.”
“You have guessed right, My Lord. It is your turn to play, and I am going to pair you with Miss Harrow!”
Sebastian heard a delighted gasp from across the room and saw Felicity rushing towards the front, smiling delightedly.
“How marvellous to be able to play a charade with you, My Lord,” she said in a whisper that was loud enough for the whole room to hear. “Shall you select the card, or shall I?”
