Page 8 of Loving an Earl (Widows of Mayfair #1)

T hat night, they attended the opera as last-minute guests of Hollingsworth. Aunt Vivian insisted on chaperoning. Hollingsworth escorted them to the Opera House in his carriage, complete with his family crest. Lilly’s heart accelerated more the closer they came to their destination. She’d attended the opera twice with Henry and had loved every moment of it. They’d sat in the Langford private box, just the two of them, which made her wonder if Langford would attend tonight in that very box. She refused to acknowledge the little flutter her heart gave at the thought of seeing him.

Hollingsworth escorted Aunt Vivian inside while Emmeline and Lilly followed behind. Once they climbed the numerous stairs to his box, he seated Emmeline on the end, followed by Aunt Vivian, Lilly, and then himself.

The beauty of the Opera House, glowing beneath the candlelight, impressed Lilly. It was opulent, done in shades of cream with red accents, and fairly took her breath away.

“It is a beautiful theater, is it not?” Hollingsworth said, his voice deep and strong. He leaned slightly toward her and she caught a whiff of his musky cologne.

“Yes. I’ve been here several times with... Henry... my deceased husband.” Her tongue had gotten tied up. Referring to Henry as deceased always pained her. “I never tire of admiring the grandeur and style.”

“Neither do I.” He leaned closer and lowered his voice for her ears only. “Before I forget, I invited Blackstone and Langford to share the box. I know they each have their own, but I wanted to give Mrs. Fitzpatrick time with Blackstone.”

So he knew. “That is very kind of you. Though I didn’t think it was so obvious about them.”

“It isn’t. But I remember her first Season and Blackstone, then the Earl of Quincy, and Mr. Fitzpatrick both vying for her attentions. It appears Blackstone never lost his feelings for her.”

Lilly had a feeling the night would be interesting in more ways than just by watching the opera.

When the two gentlemen arrived, seats were moved. Langford sat on the end where Emmeline had been. Emmeline and Blackstone sat behind the four others.

Lilly envied their privacy. Langford would look forward around Aunt Vivian and glare at her every so often. What did he think she would do, strip naked and do a dance for Hollingsworth? Why on earth did I think such a thing? She wondered what had happened to Langford’s good mood from that afternoon. Her heart had certainly taken notice of the change, though that was clearly premature. Then again, perhaps Langford in a good mood wasn’t good for her. The last thing she needed was to develop strong feelings for him.

The curtain to the private box closed, and the lights extinguished, draping them in semidarkness. The curtain to the stage opened, and Lilly found herself sitting forward in her seat, leaning against the railing. Everything around her vanished as her entire being was drawn into the opera. She wept, she smiled, and she sighed. At intermission, she dried her eyes and relaxed into her seat, inhaling as her body tingled. “That was haunting,” she said to no one in particular.

Hollingsworth’s hand covered hers on her lap. “Yes. Haunting and beautiful.” Her eyes fell to their touching hands. He pulled his away.

“Forgive me. I have something to ask. Langford permitted me to court you. Are you favorable to that?”

She frowned. “You don’t need his permission.”

“He feels it’s his duty. I respect that.” He looked at her inquiringly. One brow raised. “You didn’t answer.”

“I’m agreeable to courting and getting to know you.” The words came easy to her lips, but would courting him be easy? She hadn’t a clue how courting worked. Except perhaps she did a little. It was probably no different than tonight or dancing attendance at a ball, taking a ride in Hyde Park or going to Gunter’s for ices.

He reached for her gloved hand, turned it over, brought it to his mouth and placed his warm lips upon her exposed inner wrist. She shivered from the intimate touch. His warm brown eyes looked deep into her soul. Or at least that’s what it seemed. “Thank you,” he said.

Lilly knew at the moment she would have to be careful with Hollingsworth. Getting to know him was fine, but she didn’t want to raise expectations she wasn’t ready for. And she suspected she was right about him seeming like a rakehell. If he didn’t have a reputation as a rogue, he should.

The moment was broken when Langford cleared his throat. “Hollingsworth, may I have a word with you?”

“Stay here,” Aunt Vivian interrupted. “The ladies and I will visit the retiring room.”

Lilly couldn’t help but look back at the three gentlemen staying in the box.

“Mama, why are we leaving?” Emmeline asked once they exited the box.

“Because I need to visit the retiring room.”

“Indeed,” Emmeline said it as though it was an odd thing to do. Lilly noticed her cheeks were tinged red.

What had been going on behind her during the opera? Something Emmeline didn’t want to be taken away from, even for a quick visit to the retiring room.

*

Nicholas, the Marquess of Hollingsworth, had no clue why Langford wanted to speak to him, but he would humor the man. “What is it?”

“I change my mind.”

Confused, he said, “You change your mind. About what?”

“You courting Lilly.”

“Ahhh, Lilly is it?” Nicholas had no intentions of stopping his courting of... Lilly. Such a pretty name. “Too late. She and I discussed it and she has agreed. You forfeited your chance with her when you gave me permission.”

Langford puffed up his chest. Did he think to intimidate him? Not bloody likely. It was fortunate he admired and liked the man. Otherwise, he’d hit him right on that perfect, straight nose of his, marring his handsome face for life.

“She doesn’t interest me,” Langford said.

“Keep lying to yourself.”

Langford frowned and shook his head from side to side. “Forget I said anything. If you gentlemen will excuse me, I have other commitments.”

Nicholas and Blackstone shared a look. Blackstone held up his hands. “Ignore my friend. He’s lost his bloody mind.”

“And heart,” Nicholas grumbled.

Langford could find his own bride. Lady Langford would be perfect for Nicholas, he was sure of it. He had studied all the eligible ladies at the Westport ball, and no others had piqued his curiosity. She may have been married before but was as innocent as they came. He would enjoy getting to know her. She captivated him with her beauty. Being married to her would not be difficult. Nicholas thought she looked alluring and innocent tonight, dressed in a lovely white gown trimmed with gold embroidery and a gold pelisse. She was new to London, and if she was as agreeable to a courtship as she said, it would go smoothly and quickly. They could marry within months—something he needed. What he didn’t need was Langford interfering.

Because there was another lady his mother wanted him to marry. She was stunning in her own right, but Lady Pricilla Amesbury’s silliness had him wanting to smother the daftness out of her, even though her silliness was an act. Not to mention the fact that she was like a sister to him. If he didn’t get engaged to Lady Langford soon, he knew that with his mother’s slyness and the chit’s mother’s help, they would no doubt set up a scheme that had the two of them being found in a compromising situation and forced to marry. He also didn’t put it past them to simply make something up and leak it to the gossip rags.

He couldn’t imagine his mother giving birth to him. She was such a harridan. Nor could he imagine how his father had put up with her, though he was never in her company when he lived except to produce three offspring—two sons and one daughter. Nicholas tried to love his mother, but she wasn’t lovable. Neither of his siblings cared for her, either. But they did fear her, which was why he was trying to marry Lady Langford. No, he needed to marry her and send his mother to the dower house so he wouldn’t have to see her again. Or, at the very least, not have to live in the same house as her and see her bitter face every day. He sometimes felt a little harsh when thinking about his mother, but she was at the very least too meddlesome by far. He needed to see the end of her scheming.

If Langford was determined to intervene, he would have to devise an alternative to Lady Langford. Time was of the essence. He could always whisk the countess away to Gretna Green. That would solve all his problems. But he hated to resort to that. He rubbed his chest and ignored the feeling of guilt that was growing there at using Lady Langford.

*

The ladies returned to the box just as intermission came to a close. Lilly took her seat and wondered where Langford was—not that she cared. She leaned forward, became mesmerized by the opera again, and clasped her hands to her chest when the curtain fell for the last time. Hollingsworth escorted them home and asked for a private word with her, setting her nerves on edge. Aunt Vivian and Emmeline went inside and up the stairs while Lilly entered the drawing room with Hollingsworth following close behind. She left the door wide open.

“Please have a seat,” Lilly said as she sat on the settee, her pulse speeding up when he sat next to her.

“Langford changed his mind.”

Her eyes widened. “About what?”

“About us courting.”

Her insides hummed with anger. “Be that as it may, I agreed to a courtship.” She looked him in the eyes. “I haven’t changed my mind.” What right did Langford think he had to control who she courted and who she did not? He could say it was his duty and he owed it to Henry, but there was something else behind his behavior and she would not stand for it.

“That is good to know, Countess.”

“Please call me Lilly in private.”

“Only if you call me Nicholas.”

An awkward silence followed as Lilly waited for Nicholas to say something, do something.

He stood. “I will see myself out.”

“Nonsense. I’ll see you to the door.” Lilly rose and followed him into the entry hall. “Good night, Nicholas.” His eyes studied her face, and she could feel herself blushing under the intensity.

“Would you care to join me for a ride in the park tomorrow?”

“That would be lovely.” She smiled, hoping the awkwardness of this conversation would end soon.

He touched her cheek with his hand and smiled gently. “May I kiss you?”

She blinked several times. “You may.”

Besides his hand on her cheek, he didn’t touch her anywhere else—just her lips with his own. They were warm, soft, and gentle, and the kiss lasted only a second or two before he dropped his hand and stepped back, bowing. “Until tomorrow.”

When the door closed behind Nicholas, she removed her gloves and touched her lips. The warmth from his lips was still there.

As she climbed the stairs, Lilly found Emmeline waiting in the hallway. “So?”

Lilly couldn’t help herself, she touched her lips again and smiled. “He kissed me.”

“Yes. I heard.”

Lilly gasped.

“Not the kiss, silly. I heard him ask.”

“Mmmhmm.”

“It’s true. Anyway, tell me how it was.”

Smiling, Lilly said, “It was nice.”

“Nice?” Emmeline frowned. “You mean to tell me the handsome marquess didn’t pull you into his arms and kiss your breath away? His tongue tasting the inside of your mouth, causing you to grip his arms for support as your knees threatened to buckle and your throat makes soft purring sounds?”

Lilly could feel her cheeks warm. “No. His tongue? My goodness, purring. I never.”

Emmeline sighed wistfully, her eyes taking on a faraway look. “You haven’t been kissed properly until tongues are involved. And mewing and weak knees.”

“Henry was not much for kissing.” Lilly frowned. “Oh my, I have so much to learn.”

After Daisy helped her undress, Lilly climbed into bed and thought about her time at the opera with Hollingsworth. Her belly didn’t tingle with butterflies when she thought of him as it did when she reflected on that dreadful man, Langford. They were both handsome. One kind, one not. One insulted her, and one did not. Both looked at her with desire. At least, she interpreted it as desire. But what did she truly know about desire? Langford tempted her anger and made her furious; at times, she couldn’t speak. Hollingsworth—she should think of him as Nicholas—didn’t anger her. Life would be simple and easy with Nicholas. At least what she knew of him made her think so. Now she just needed to figure out if that was what she wanted.