Page 40 of The Highlander's English Bride

“Where is Lady Vivien this evening? I thought she would be here.”

Lady Hunter inclined her head toward the other side of the theater. “Vivien has family visiting. She’s sitting with her mamma and her younger brother, Kit.”

“Oh, and I suppose the captain is also . . .”

Sabrina trailed off when she saw exactly who was sitting with Vivien and her family, and it wasn’t Aden St. George. It was Graeme Kendrick, and he was staring straight at her with a disconcerting intensity.

She ignored the sudden, mad thumping of her heart and gave him a friendly smile. After all, theaters were so brightly lit that one couldn’t pretend not to notice when someone stared. Still, it was hard to read his expression. She’d never met anyone who could adopt a stoneface better than Graeme Kendrick.

But when Graeme smiled at her, it was like enjoying the blaze of a bonfire when chilled to the bone.

Sadly, he wasn’t smiling now.

Just whenhersmile was beginning to feel permanently fixed to her face, Graeme finally gave her a brusque nod. He then rose from his chair and slipped from the box.

Lady Hunter leaned close. “Don’t worry. Graeme will get over it.”

Sabrina waggled a hand. “I can’t blame him for being annoyed. But it’s not as if I knew about his role in catching the—”

Her ladyship held up a warning finger.

“Sorry,” Sabrina whispered. “It’s just that I’d like to apologize to him for making a mess of things.”

“No apology necessary, although I’m sure Graeme would be delighted to speak to you again.”

Sabrina doubted that. Still, if she did see him again, she would apologize, no matter how mortifying the experience might prove to be.

“Is Mr. Kendrick here tonight because of the . . .” She tapped one of her earrings. “You know.”

“You’re not to worry,” Lady Hunter firmly said. “Please just relax and enjoy the show.”

Discussion closed, again.

But Sabrina felt too scattered to concentrate on the musical interludes and the entirely absurd adaptation of Spenser’sThe Faerie Queene. When the interval came, she was grateful to stand and shake the fidgets from her arms.

“Would you like to go down to the saloon for a refreshment?” she asked her father.

He gave a little moue of distaste. “It’s sure to be an awful crush, my love, and think of the risk of infection from such riffraff. We should remain in the box.”

Sabrina pressed a gloved hand to the base of her skull, where a headache began to niggle. She desperately needed to stretch her legs and find something cold to drink.

“There are no riffraff tonight,” Lady Hunter said, “and we have excellent champagne and lovely ices, as well.”

Father wavered for a few moments, obviously not wishing to be rude, before shaking his head. “Thank you, ma’am, but Sabrina and I will remain in the box. Perhaps you might have a waiter bring us each a glass of ratafia.”

Argh.Sabrina hated ratafia.

Sir Dominic winked at her. “I find myself equally loath to mingle with the crowd, Lord Musgrave, no matter how distinguished. The ladies should go to the saloon, while the men stay here and have a comfortable chat.”

“Are you sure it’s perfectly safe for the ladies?” Father anxiously asked.

“My word of honor. Besides, I’ve been meaning to quiz you about your renowned coin collection. I’m thinking of starting one, and who better to ask for advice than Lord Musgrave?”

Sabrina’s father brightened. “I should be delighted to give you the benefit of my knowledge, dear sir. Mind, it’s quite a complicated subject, so we will barely be able to touch on it.”

“I’m ready to learn at the feet of the master,” Sir Dominic replied with an entirely straight face.

“Do you have any experience with collecting?”

---