Page 49

“ W e’ve attracted no small number of interested looks so far tonight,” George said from beside Philip as they wound up the stairs to their box at The King’s Theatre that evening. “And by we, I mean you, Colonel. Your popularity seems to have soared after your time abroad—despite the scar.

“From your letters, I figured you would return to England looking like the Barguest itself. But in truth, the scar is doing you a service. I fancy the women of London see it as a testament to your patriotism . ”

“I shall endeavor to take that as a compliment. But what the devil is a Barguest?” Philip asked, struggling to keep up with his friends.

The climb irritated his ribs. He could perform most daily tasks without trouble, but stairs and slopes were deadly.

George laughed, his freckled face brightening with a smile. “A monstrous hound of legend that stalks the Dales. My old nurse used to tell us stories of the creature when we misbehaved, saying it would snatch us from our beds in the night if we didn’t harken to her orders.”

“More Yorkshire nonsense,” Simon chimed in, turning to look over his shoulder as he led the way forward.

“I can scarcely understand a word you say anymore, Georgie. That new northern drawl of yours is an affront to my ears. And besides, the only bar guests I’m interested in are the sorts we’ll find at the club later.

Well-fed and over-watered drowsy hounds, looking to risk it all over a round of Faro.

Hmph… Would that we had skipped the culture altogether and gone directly to White’s. ”

Philip remained neutral in their fight, enjoying the innocent ribbing between his two friends.

They had met in front of the opera house and conversed for a while ahead of the show, directing their respective footmen to head inside without them.

Philip hadn’t known what to expect from their reunion, especially now that they were a man down for good.

But reuniting with George and Simon had been like putting on a well-loved pair of boots—they fitted without question.

“You don’t sound much different to me,” Philip said to George while Simon was distracted with their usher. “But you’ve been spending time in Yorkshire? Are your family not from Somerset?”

George shrugged one shoulder. “My uncle’s eldest married a lord from York and consigned us all to spend the summer there.”

Philip nodded. “And the marriage business? Have you made any progress?”

A laugh caught in George’s throat. “You haven’t changed, discussing love and marriage with as much cold fervor as you discuss business. No… I am still as hapless in love as I ever was. But I’m hopeful for this Season. Now that I am the Baron of Walford, perhaps my chances will improve.”

His happy expression faltered. Philip chose not to press him further on the matter.

Simon whistled suddenly to get their attention, pointing to their advancing usher.

As they walked down the shared corridor to their box, Philip watched Simon flash a dazzling smile at a few passing young women and their chaperones.

George seemed to know them. Their charmed expressions fell in quick succession as their gazes flitted from George to Simon, before finally landing on Philip.

Four pretty young faces colored with shock.

Was it his appearance or his new title that commanded the fear in their eyes?

He could swear he heard them whisper amongst themselves as they left. “Don’t be silly, Helena… The Duke of Wells… different now… not smiling… and that scar… The war carved something into him…”

Philip smiled in secret. They were honest, little things if nothing else.

The Stockton box was well situated, providing a good view of the stage while being far enough away from the chaos of the upper galleries to enjoy the show in peace. Philip settled in his seat while George gave him an overview of the opera they would be watching. But he was barely listening.

He glanced down into the pit and felt suddenly exposed. As if all the eyes in The King’s Theatre had fixed on him at once.

Perhaps I am not a beast like Barguest . But my looks and rank are certainly novel enough to warrant the ton’s attention. There is nothing to be done but let them stare. And if prospective brides find my disfigurement too high a price to pay to become a duchess, then I invite them to keep staring.

Sitting to George’s right, Philip leaned in while Simon inspected the program for that evening, grumbling to himself.

“Far be it from me to echo our friend’s earlier complaints, but why did we come to the opera rather than White’s?

” Philip asked, cutting George off. He kept his voice low.

“Given Simon’s lamentation over our choice of activity tonight, I suspect that you were the one who organized the events of the evening. ”

“Does it not always fall to me to organize you three?” George gasped softly, then corrected himself. “You both, I mean…”

Philip looked away, giving George time to collect himself.

“My cousin is performing tonight,” George explained, gesturing toward the empty stage. “She has had a difficult time of things recently, and I wanted to lend my support to her by attending her first London show this year.”

“Speaking of Alicia, are we?” Simon interjected suddenly, leaning over him with a teasing smile. “Georgie plays the role of innocent confidant well enough, but a mastermind lies behind that unassuming freckled forehead—I have always known it.”

“That accusation is beyond the pale!” George’s cheeks flushed red, and Philip knew all too well why. “But, of course, I wasn’t thinking when I invited you, because it’s been so long and… Well, you don’t mind that we’re here, do you, Philip?”

Philip shook his head, inspecting his own program.

“Alicia and I have not spoken for many years. Our courtship was a mistake, and we both knew it—so short that I dare say it shouldn’t even count as one.

We are strangers to one another now.” He looked up, unaffected by the revelation that she would be performing that evening.

“Does your uncle still curse the ground she walks on?”

“I’m afraid so.” George’s face betrayed every thought that crossed his mind.

From the look of him, things were dire between Alicia and the earl.

“Alicia knows her own mind, and he does not like that. He’s not entirely wrong to worry for her, of course.

The daughter of a peer, leaving the ton to pursue a career in the opera…

She has known her fair share of troubles, but her heart still belongs to the stage. ”

“If this is where she thinks she belongs, then there is nowhere better for her,” Philip said, suddenly contemplative. “One cannot lead a safe but shallow life.”

“Speaking from the heart, Wilmington?” Simon drawled from George’s left, brandishing his smile like a weapon.

“Perhaps you and the Seconda Donna have more in common than you initially thought. I’m certain she would find your service to our country romantic.

She is still undeniably lovely. You are both still single.

Perhaps there are grounds for a happy reunion. ”

“Hardly,” Philip said emphatically. “No doubt she remembers as little of me as I remember of her—and what she will remember cannot possibly be favorable…”

Not favorable at all. He had met Alicia eight years ago during her first Season, and their courtship had lasted all of two weeks. His father had forced him into it, convinced that she would be the diamond of the Season.

He and Alicia had both been miserable during their brief acquaintance. A few walks around Hyde Park had confirmed that their dalliance was going nowhere, even though she was beautiful and he had been woefully eligible at the time. A year later, she left England to pursue her singing career.

Philip knew as much about that time of her life as the rest of the ton. Alicia Walford was a leading lady in the making, with a scandalous reputation to match, and she would not resign herself to becoming a wife.

“What was it they used to call your father at the time?” Simon asked. “The Duke of Darkness…” He laughed. “I suppose that makes you the Duke of Darkness now. First the Barguest, and now the Duke of Darkness… This night is taking on a most mystical air. Anything could happen—why not a reunion?”

“For my stance on marriage has not changed,” Philip uttered, growing increasingly uncomfortable.

Simon pursed his lips. “I never said anything about marriage . Not all meetings between a man and a woman must be entirely orthodox…”

“That’s my cousin you’re speaking about!

” George cried, drawing the attention of the patrons in the box beside theirs.

He shot them an awkward smile and lowered his voice.

“Those days of indiscretion have long since been over for Alicia. She is looking to settle down and become a respectable woman.”

“Ha! She could no more become respectable than I could—and good on her for it,” Simon said, adjusting the drapery beside him to put a barrier between themselves and their eavesdropping neighbors.

“No, you must be mistaken. With a record like hers, she would have better luck finding a husband in one of those foreign countries she loves to visit so much. Why come back to England? Unless you mentioned Philip was returning to us too… Are you hoping to play matchmaker this Season, Georgie? Hell and damnation, you are! I can see it in your eyes!”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I would never force her on a friend. Perhaps she feels she left a life behind here. Or perhaps…” George shrugged, diving nose-first into his program like he could hide there. Simon was onto something. “Well, I don’t know! I can’t read her mind. I only know what she said.”