Page 7

Her Majesty’s Theatre, Haymarket, London

I t had been over a year since Regina had been to the theatre.

In the previous year, Ada’s trouble had resulted in Regina’s season being cut short.

After their adventure to Gretna Green, her parents had snatched her back to the country where she was meant to wait until her fiancé returned.

They had only returned to London this season in anticipation of her fiancé’s arrival, which they now knew wouldn’t happen.

Not until they knew who the new one would be.

Enjoying an evening with Ellie while their parents grew more closely acquainted opened up so many new possibilities.

She didn’t know why they hadn’t done this before.

She knew that Ellie and Ada had managed to spend more time together because their families were less restrictive unlike her parents.

She had only ever wanted to be Ellie’s friend and hadn’t ever truly considered using her father as a connection to better her own standing.

But now, she wondered how much of her life over the past years could have been different.

In her excitement, she’d chosen one of the dresses she’d managed to get past her mother.

A gown of rich cerulean silk with gota patti of gold and silver in a floral motif along the neckline and in a broad border at the hem of each flounce.

It was an indulgence, like her favorite bonnet, something that showed a little more of who she was or perhaps who she wanted to be.

Who she hoped she would be after all was said and done.

The excitement she felt had even extended to her mother, who had forgotten for the first time in her life to check what Regina was wearing before they had arrived at the theatre.

Regina had left her cloak on until the last minute when she had been forced to remove it at the theatre in full view of her mother.

Her mother’s eagle eye had gone directly to the unmistakably Indian design, but before she could speak, the viscount had commented on it in glowing terms.

Regina couldn’t be sure it was a victory, but for the moment at least, there wasn’t anything to be done about it.

If enough positive feedback got to her mother perhaps Regina would be able to wear more of these designs this season.

It would be a kind of freedom, even if much of her life was still decided.

Tonight, she wouldn’t worry about that. Tonight, she would enjoy being able to wear this dress and relish the opera with her friend.

Her eyes drifted over the assembly of patrons around them. Some were familiar, but most were not.

She’d been in this theatre once before but never in an area like this. These gilt seats were upholstered in red velvet and this performance was the premier of the latest opera by Guiseppi Verdi.

“What is this one about, Ellie?” she asked.

“Well, I believe it is based on a book by Alexandre Dumas’ son, La Dame aux Camélias . Have you read it?”

“No.”

“It’s about a fallen woman, Violetta, who finds love too late.”

“Sad but probably realistic.”

“Indeed, but the music should be good.”

“Thank goodness for those Italian lessons, eh?” Regina joked, nudging Ellie with her elbow.

“If only Ada was here. It would be a perfect evening.”

“Indeed. Although she’s likely already seen it.”

“That is very true, at this point when she returns, we will be able to discuss it with her instead of staring like country bumpkins.”

The lights flickered and they turned their attention to the stage.

As Elodia predicted, the music was wonderful, but what struck Regina the most was Violetta’s quandary between freedom and love.

The idea of being caught between what seemed to serve her best and what her heart cried out for once she’d tasted it.

She heard Elodia gasp beside her and turned to her.

“What is it, Ellie?”

“He’s here,” she whispered, her gloved hands clenched in her lap and her eyes fixed across from their seat one row down.

When she saw the object of her focus her own breath caught in her throat.

There in the dim light of the torches sat Ada’s brother, Mr. Thornfield, and beside him was Mr. Kingston.

His gaze was fixed on the stage, his brow furrowed in concentration as he leaned on the arm rest of his chair, one strong hand covering his full mouth.

Every time she saw him, she was struck anew by how handsome he was and how attractive every part of him was to her.

How much she liked the way he looked at her, the way he appreciated her as she was.

Could she find that with the man she was destined to marry?

Was it possible that the white man who would no doubt inherit the barony and her along with it would see her as a boon instead of a burden?

On the stage Alfredo’s voice rang out reminding the heroine of her opportunity to taste what she’d never experienced before with a person of pure heart and intentions.

Violetta’s voice faltered as the ache of longing sprang to life and in Regina’s own heart a treacherous seed of yearning took root.

She forced herself to look down at her hands and then back to the stage.

She tried to focus on understanding the Italian instead of recalling every detail of each encounter she’d ever had with Leo Kingston.

“Oh,” Elodia murmured, and Regina glanced over in time to see her nod in Mr. Thornfield’s direction.

He returned the gesture to her and Regina, and she glanced at Mr. Kingston to see those eyes fixed on her.

Her heart thudded in her chest at the impact of his stare.

He nodded as well before returning his attention to the stage.

Could she be disappointed? Did it make sense?

He owed her nothing, they’d met only twice before. What had she hoped for?

Her heart was thumping away with her chest. She could feel his gaze on her skin and the tingling in her belly moved lower, forcing her to press her legs together.

It was terrifying and exhilarating to have his interest even if it was only polite.

It was maddening having her body react in such a way to someone she knew full well she couldn’t have.

Someone who had no interest in her outside of a passing acquaintance.

The first half ended, and the curtain mercifully closed as the audience broke into scattered applause.

“Oh, they’ve left,” Elodia said.

“What?” Regina’s head snapped up to see the empty seat Mr. Kingston had once sat in. She wasn’t disappointed. She wasn’t. She didn’t know the man for the love of Christ. Perhaps it was a mercy. The last thing she needed was more distractions.

Then Elodia stiffened beside her. “Oh, Lord. He’s coming over, Gigi.”

Regina’s head snapped up as her body went cold with shock. “What?”

“Good evening gentlemen,” Elodia said with a bright smile. “Papa, you remember Mr. Kingston and of course Mr. Thornfield.”

“Of course, good evening, gentlemen,” Lord Melbroke said, “Mr. Thornfield you must already be familiar with my guests, but Mr. Kingston allow me to introduce Captain and Mrs. Mason and their eldest daughter, Miss Regina Mason.”

“Good evening to you all,” he said giving them a smart bow.

“Mr. Kingston, I believe I saw you on the platform that day last year, did I not?” Captain Mason said with a curious head tilt. Her father remembered him? Of course her father remembered him. The man had a mind like a steel trap.

“I believe so, but it was hardly a formal introduction by any means.”

“No. More like guerrilla warfare.”

Mr. Kingston pressed his lips together as if fighting back a smile. “As you say, sir.”

Her father turned to her mother. “Mr. Kingston was instrumental in safeguarding Mr. Thornfield’s life, and the former Miss Thornfield’s dignity.”

“Yes, he was,” Mr. Thornfield confirmed.

“He also was the reason my Ellie was returned to me so quickly when she was taken last year,” the Viscount added with a nod of admiration.

“It seems more than one person is indebted to you, Mr. Kingston,” Regina’s mother said.

“That is true, but none are present here. What I did was in the service of a friend.”

“How gallant of you.” Her expression seemed almost convinced, but Regina knew better than to read anything more into it.

“Do you enjoy the opera, Mr. Kingston?” Regina asked, hoping her voice sounded as steady as she imagined, even though her stomach was a mess of nerves.

“I do in general, Miss Mason. How do you find this one?”

“Intriguing. I’m not one for romance in general but this one isn’t terrible.” It was better to be honest. Her parents would certainly know the truth.

“A young woman who isn’t a fan of romantic tales, how very peculiar.” Mr. Thornfield said with clear amusement.

She smiled. Yes it would seem odd to him, but Regina had never been interested in hurting herself for the sake of curiosity. Romance would have no place in the life she was going to live and she had no interest in tasting it even vicariously. “I’m a peculiar sort of female.”

“You’re in good company tonight. My companion here is less than enthused himself.” He cast a frustrated glance at Mr. Kingston.

“Oh? What fault do you find with it?” she asked. Was he a kindred spirit?

“Is the subject matter too shocking?” Elodia chimed in.

Mr. Kingston shot an annoyed look at his friend before chuckling and shaking his head. Regina’s breath caught in her throat. That laugh. She was losing her mind. “Well, I confess I much prefer comedies myself,” he replied.

“How peculiar of you,” Regina teased, and he crinkled his nose in mock protest.

“Perhaps, but I’ve dealt with enough tragedy in my line of work. When I pay to be entertained, I prefer a happy ending.”

“Whereas I live for drama as an escape from mundane leisure.” Richard joked.

“You do not believe that art should hold a mirror up to the world, Mr. Kingston?” The Viscount asked.