Page 3 of Loving Mister Stratford
Unfortunately, all Odette’s manners and schooling seemed to fly away as this odd man’s brilliant eyes met hers. When he’d been standing above her, she’d have sworn his eyes were more green than blue; up close, however, they seemed to be an impossible mixture of the two—a mesmerizing, swirling vortex of complex nuances of color.
Odette swallowed hard.
“You don’t care for the theater?” she finally croaked. His long fingers plucked up a scrap from the floor before flicking it away, reminding her that she was supposed to be searching for her lost earring.
“Normally? No. I’ll grant that tonight’s performance was rather more entertaining than I expected. Viscount Blackwood convinced me to accompany him tonight.”
A viscount? This man was well-connected, though she’d suspected as much from the fine quality and cut of his clothing. Though he dressed simply, there was no disguising the fact that what he wore was expensive and was impeccably tailored.
“Is it the people? The production?” she couldn’t help but ask. She may not have enjoyed being the daughter of a performer, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t appreciate the hard work of the actors, the beauty of a particular production, how moving a brilliant story could be.“Why don’t you care for the theater?” She watched as he lifted the corner of a bit of tarp covering a piece of scenery, searching for the glint of a gemstone in the dim lighting and finding only disappointment.
“A bit of everything, I suppose. Then there are the inanities—the social customs one is expected to adhere to, which I believe to be terribly exhausting and contrived.” His speech was so formal, so proper. His inflection was aloof; his diction was elegant, but there was an impatience about his tone. She didn’t feel as if this was necessarily directed at her but at the topic. He was obviously a man who knew what he liked, and it was just so. His eyes met hers once again.“I find the spectators are as much in a play of their own as those onstage. They’ve their roles and their costumes; I don’t doubt that some have even rehearsed their lines. It’s all so premeditated. Were the theater solely a form of entertainment without the social aspect, perhaps I might enjoy it more.”
She opened her mouth to reply but gave a little yelp of surprise instead when he lunged toward her, reaching beneath the lace-trimmed hem of her skirt.
Seemingly entirely oblivious to what he’d just done, he held out to her the glittering sapphire earring in the center of his large palm.“Voila,” he said, a small tilt to his lush lips.
“Merci,” she breathed, accepting the bauble from his warm palm and safely affixing it once more to her earlobe.
The man stood and reached down to help her to her feet.
As she straightened herself out, flicking wrinkles from her orange skirts with their blue floral print, she realized just how tall and lean this man was. Her head reached his chest in such a way that his chin would barely graze the top of her head were they standing that closely to one another. He was slim, but broad of shoulder, with long limbs and a strong stance. She, by comparison, felt rather mousy with her dishwater blond hair and roundish features. He was elegant in all the ways she lacked. And, from the way he was assessing her so pointedly, she had a feeling he was keenly aware of this fact.
Simon couldn’t stop staring at the woman before him. Now that she was standing, he got his first truly uninhibited look at her, and he was taken aback by some foreign sensations.
He liked what he saw.
A great deal.
She had sweet, generous curves which conveyed both a femininity and a hardiness he found most appealing. Not only this, but her bright blue eyes glittered like paler, more brilliant versions of the earring he’d just helped her locate. Her lips were voluptuously full and made her easy smile even more charming. She was captivating in a way that was unfamiliar to Simon.
Just how long had it been since he’d had a woman?
Far too long, judging by the urgent stirring in his loins that usually served as his indication to handle his baser needs.
“I don’t believe I caught your name,” she finally said, a coy smile on those delectable lips of hers.
Right. Social basics.
“Mr. Simon Stratford,” he offered, bowing over her hand almost mechanically. Several moments passed. He did not release her hand, nor did he bother to inquire after her name. She seemed unperturbed, offering it up instead.
“And I’m Miss Odette Leroy.” Her presentation of the name was in the flawless French pronunciation,“lur-wah”, and the movement of her lips was utterly captivating.
The way she looked at him was very strange to Simon. She didn’t frown at his social slips. She didn’t mock him. She didn’t sneer. She was kind and warm. He almost didn’t know how to react to this.
“Would you care to sit with me, Mr. Stratford, since it seems that we two are wallflowers at this event? Perhaps we can keep one another company and everyone else will leave us alone.”
Simon could only nod as he accompanied her to some nearby crates and they settled in.
It didn’t take Odette long to realize that Mr. Stratford wasn’t one to talk. He seemed to hesitate before almost every one of his replies, as if the answer was infinitely important and he had to weigh it over in his mind before presenting it for her inspection. He took such care with every response that it made her feel special—like she was someone worth talking to, that her responses and opinions mattered. There were a few occasions where he made odd comments and observations about things and she soon realized that his mind appeared to be working several steps ahead; especially when he fell into a few minutes of silence. He was immensely thoughtful and, she believed, truly fascinating.
Many women of her status and situation would flatter and humor the second son of a prominent earl, hoping to flirt their way to a coveted invitation or something else of even greater value. Odette, however, found genuine enjoyment in their conversation. Once she overcame the unbelievable reality that such a handsome, well-born man was paying attention toher, they fell into a companionable rhythm. Even their silences as they observed the others milling around backstage had been pleasant. She enjoyed the richness of his chuckle. She was enchanted by the quirk of his alluring mouth. And when he smiled at her…her heart stopped.
Whatever this was—whatever she was experiencing—Odette knew she would do best to avoid placing too much stock into it. She’d likely never meet Mr. Simon Stratford again.
This knowledge was likely what bolstered her nerves, allowing her to relax and simply enjoy the time they did have together in a way she’d never before experienced.
He didn’t know if minutes or hours passed, but Simon, oddly enough, found that he didn’t mind. However long it was, he and Miss Leroy sat in companionable conversation. She seemed particularly adept at filling any awkward silences he may have generated. Rather than take a lack of response from him as disinterest, she seemed pleased enough to forge ahead. Even so, there was nothing self-centered or egotistical about this behavior; instead, she seemed to be doing him a favor rather than enjoying hearing the sound of her own melodic voice. Once or twice, much to Simon’s surprise, she was even able to encourage him to converse quite fluently. Normally, people didn’t hold his attention for this long, let alone relative strangers.
