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“I have no objection to it in principle, but for myself I’d much rather laugh than cry.”

“Especially in public,” Ellie teased, and Mr. Thornfield snickered before wagging his finger and squinting at the ceiling in consideration.

“You make a fine point, Miss Hawthorne. Imagine spending all that time on your toilette only to ruin your hard work with a rogue opera.”

“Oh, the tragedy,” she lamented with a grin.

“The futility.”

“Oh dear, are you in danger of a public emotional exhibition, Mr. Kingston?” Regina asked, wondering how Elodia was able to speak so easily with Mr. Thornfield, a man she was clearly in love with.

Mr. Kingston chuckled and shook his head, “Not tonight, Miss Mason. I believe it is time to return to our seats to further witness the tragic futility.”

“Such is always the way. I shall bid you all good evening then,” Mr. Thornfield said before bowing and leaving their box.

Mr. Kingston followed suit, meeting her eyes for a moment before he left and Regina returned the gesture, watching greedily as he strolled away with his friend. Even his walk was attractive. What on earth was this? Could it be mere attraction? Was it that powerful?

“He’s a cheerful fellow,” Captain Mason commented.

“Who, Thornfield? He is rather, but don’t let it fool you,” Lord Melbroke replied.

“What do you mean by that, papa?” Elodia asked.

“Only that he’s not as straightforward as he likes to appear.”

It was true. Ada’s brother wielded his charm in a way that was calculated without being harmful.

She didn’t hold it against him, she had to do the same in her own way far too often.

She imagined Mr. Kingston’s humility was another way to play to the crowd in order to avoid too much scrutiny.

How else could his refusal to accept credit for his actions the year before be explained?

“Few people are,” Regina replied without thinking as she watched him and Mr. Kingston retake their seats.

“Oh?” Captain Mason asked.

Regina glanced over to see four pairs of eyes staring at her; three inquisitive and one knowing and wary. “I only meant that it is the price of engaging in society, is it not? We none of us can be truly who we are all the time.”

“I suppose that is true enough,” her father replied.

“Indeed,” Mrs. Mason said watching Regina with cool consideration. “Mr. Kingston is quite the hero.”

Regina met her stare evenly but said nothing. She knew. Somehow her mother knew who her mind had begun drifting towards. If her voice wavered it would seal the coffin.

“He is a good sort,” Elodia said. “Very clever and discreet.”

“A military man as well by his account,” Lord Melbroke added.

“Oh? Which battalion?” Captain Mason asked, his interest piqued.

“I didn’t get that far with the introduction. Perhaps I can invite him to dinner next week and you can have the opportunity to ask.”

“Very good.” Her father nodded with his typical cheerful grin.

Regina turned to face the stage and forced herself to keep her eyes on the performances she was lucky to witness, and not on the man across from their box. And if she felt the weight of his stare, she told herself she was imagining it.

*

She was stunning tonight, and it was getting even more difficult not to notice it.

Verdi’s latest work was rapidly losing his interest in lieu of the young woman seated above him in the theatre with her friends and family He didn’t know if it was the full moon or the doomed romance of the opera, but Leo would swear he had sensed her before he saw her.

Which was utter madness. More than likely the torchlight had glinted off the golden accents on her dress and caught his attention.

Now he couldn’t stop staring. She of course was entirely focused on the stage, her expression composed, her posture poised but not rigid.

She looked like a damned princess in that blue and gold silk, with all that shining hair piled on top of her head in curls and twists, that lush body with its smooth deep brown skin curving in and out.

He felt like a lecher or at the very least an impudent peasant coveting what he had no business wanting.

Except he wasn’t a peasant according to that old woman. He was a baron. Or a prospective one at least.

A reality he was barely willing to acknowledge let alone accept.

He didn’t like knowing that some old white woman funded his education.

He didn’t like knowing that his grandfather’s family were the sort of people who were so racist they would cut him off for marrying outside of his race and below his station.

He was everything they hated everything they would have fought to prevent and yet here he was poised to get everything if he chose to take it.

He could vie for Miss Mason’s hand then as black as he was. It wouldn’t matter with a title behind him.

“Something the matter?” Richard murmured.

Yes. “No.”

“Have the Mason’s offended you in some way?”

“No,” he glanced at his friend and recognized the amusement on his face. “What?”

“You tell me.”

“I was merely admiring Miss Mason. She is a credit to her parents.”

“Indeed, quite lovely. It’s no small wonder she is engaged already.”

Disappointment curdled in his stomach. Engaged? “What?”

“She’s been engaged for some years now. It’s why she is rarely out in society. She’s been waiting for the man to come marry her.”

“That is ludicrous. Why waste her time when he could be marrying the girl?”

“Perhaps they are unwilling to settle down just yet, or perhaps he objects to the prospect of marrying her.”

“If they find it so disagreeable, why don’t they just call it off?”

“There is a good deal of money at stake as I understand it.”

“Of course.” Money. He could never hope to keep her in the kind of luxury she’d been raised in, not without taking the title.

Leo had not benefited from the same level of prosperity her father had enjoyed in the military.

He’d had some luck to be sure and had managed to save enough to open his business after gaining more experience with London at Scotland Yard.

Careful stock investments by Basil had produced a healthy enough return that Leo could pick his clients with more scrutiny, but nothing to bedeck anyone in silk and gold.

The comfort he was able to maintain for himself and his mother had always been a source of pride and satisfaction for him, but Miss Regina Mason would require more.

She deserved more. He couldn’t provide it without changing himself entirely and that wasn’t something he was prepared to do for anyone, let alone a chit he’d met three times regardless of how charming and gorgeous she was.

So, he contented himself with watching her and imagining what it would be like to sit next to her in a theatre like this one, to court her openly, to hold her hand at will, to investigate the hidden depths of those glittering dark eyes and know that she was his.