Page 21

CHAPTER 20

A s they crossed the opera entrance’s threshold Duncan lightly tugged at his cravat—which happened to be annoying him considerably more than usual.

When his eyes adjusted to the warm light from the chandeliers that hung above them, he snuck a peripheral glance at Lady Penelope and Mother to his right side. The entire building felt alive and abuzz with excitement, which was hardly a surprise now that the Season was in full swing.

Out of the corner of his eye, Duncan eyed Lady Penelope’s throat swallow, causing him to clench a fist.

She never seemed comfortable around large crowds. He bit his lip, wishing he could offer his arm or a word of encouragement to help ease her into this.

If it were up to him, she wouldn’t have to go through any of this. But he had lost the race when Harlington tackled him to the ground just a few yards away from the manor’s backdoor, thus allowing Fairhaven the opportunity to run inside and search for Mother.

Duncan shoved Harlington off and sprinted to the drawing room, but by the time he sunk against the doorframe panting, Mother was already chirping about how the opera sounded like such a splendid idea.

A part of him held onto the hope that Lady Penelope would decline Mother’s invitation. But on the other hand, he was hardly surprised that she had ended up accepting because well, she clearly had a soft spot for Mother and didn’t want to disappoint her.

He had considered warning her about what lay in store, warning her that this was all just an elaborate conspiracy to give Fairhaven an excuse to get closer to Lady Beatrice.

A hand landed on Duncan’s shoulder as Harlington greeted them all. Once pleasantries had been exchanged, he dragged them across the room towards where Fairhaven chatted with Ladies Beatrice and Madalene along with their families.

Lady Georgina's family must be running late. Duncan noted silently.

Lady Georgina was the one he had been ‘assigned’ to keep busy the entire night. And ordinarily, he wouldn’t have minded. In fact, under different circumstances, he probably would have relished the opportunity.

He would have showered the unsuspecting debutante with attention and praise, laughed at everything she had to say, offered to show her around the opera house whilst spewing facts about its history and decor he had committed to memory, and so on and so forth.

But none of that appealed to him in the slightest now and Duncan couldn’t help but wonder whether the people who claimed that he was behaving differently now were right after all.

"Your Grace!”

The excited exclamation cut through the fog of his thoughts, and he quickly mustered his best smile for Lady Beatrice’s mother, “Lady Thornlowe!”

Lord Thornlowe, however, did not appear as thrilled to see them—clearly wary of the reputation that the three friends had.

Once the necessary introductions were made between the two groups, Fairhaven suggested that they slowly begin looking for their seats.

As their combined parties meandered through the winding corridors, Duncan placed a hand on Harlington’s shoulder and whispered, “What happened to Lady Georgina?”

“Oh dear...” Harlington smirked over his shoulder, “I sent them a note to confirm that we were looking forward to seeing them. But I am just now realizing that it may have mentioned the... wrong date.”

Duncan’s eyes widened in bewilderment. “You did? Why?”

Harlington’s eyes fell on Lady Penelope and Mother as they conversed with Lady Madalene and her parents. “You were right,” he shrugged, “You have more than enough problems as it is.”

“Have you had the chance to speak to her yet?” Duncan cleared his throat, his eyes resting on the low chignon that hung on the back of Lady Penelope’s neck. “I know I was adamant about you leaving her alone, but on second thought, perhaps she'll be more open with you two than she has been with me.”

“We’ll do our best.” Harlington nodded firmly. “Or at least I will, Fairhaven looks like he’s forgotten that the rest of us are still here.” He gestured with his chin towards their giddy friend as he basked in the light of Lady Beatrice’s sheepish smile even as she hung on her father’s protective arm.

When they eventually took their seats, Mother insisted on sitting next to Lady Madalene’s mother—Lady Whitewood—which put Lady Penelope on Duncan’s righthand side, while Fairhaven sat on his left.

The poor creature kept her eyes focused straight ahead, without throwing even so much as a nod of acknowledgment Duncan’s way.

His heart pounded wildly at the unbearably awkward air between them, but he had already decided that he wasn’t going to be the one to initiate even a temporary truce.

He had given her more than enough opportunity to explain what was wrong and how he could help when they were under the archway. So, Duncan saw no reason for him to be the one who-

“Your Grace?”

Duncan grimaced as he realized that for the second time already tonight, he had flinched thanks to someone’s voice interrupting his thoughts—he really needed to stop allowing his mind to wander.

“Yes, Lady Penelope?” he croaked, his throat suddenly dry.

Duncan also had his gaze fixed straight ahead, but he could see her shift in her seat slightly as she whispered, “Is Lord Harlington... an upstanding gentleman?”

Duncan snapped his neck to her in an instant. “Of course. Why? What did he say to you?”

She reached into her reticule and pulled out a folded note, “Before we took our seats, he asked me to pass this to Lady Madalene for him when I got the chance.”

Duncan felt the tension in his shoulders melt away, immediately understanding what his friend was trying to do.

“Did he now?” he chuckled drily, “What does the note say?”

“I haven’t read it, of course!” she huffed in response. “But by now you also must have noticed the attention he’s paying her tonight, so it isn’t too difficult to guess what it might contain.”

Duncan felt his chest tighten as he fought back the urge to tell her everything—that Harlington’s behavior towards Lady Madalene was quite calculated, as was this entire excursion, and as was the note that he had put in Lady Penelope’s hands.

“You’ve never even spoken to Lady Madalene before tonight,” Duncan mused out loud, “and you’re already being so protective of her.” He smiled.

“Naturally, of course!” scoffed the lady at his side. “And I know that Lord Harlington is a close friend of yours, but you’ve always been honest in your criticisms of other gentlemen. And I cannot, in good conscience, pass this note on to Lady Madalene until I am certain that Lord Harlington won’t hurt her.”

“He won’t,” Duncan promised with utmost sincerity. It was true, but perhaps not for the same reasons that Lady Penelope was thinking of. “But if you’d prefer, I could pass the note along instead?” he offered, “Perhaps that would be easier on your conscience?”

She bit her lip for a moment, causing Duncan to wonder if she couldn’t trust him even with a matter this trivial. But to his relief, Lady Penelope eventually held out the note towards him with only the slightest hint of apprehension.

The lights dimmed shortly after accepting the paper and the pair resumed their initial forward-facing stances. A few minutes into the first number, Duncan checked to ensure that Lady Penelope wasn’t watching him.

Upon confirming that her gaze remained steadfastly transfixed on the stage and its spirited performers, Duncan stealthily unfolded the note to confirm his suspicions.

Evening, Blackmoore!

-H

It simply read.

Duncan chuckled to himself—his hunch had been right after all, Harlington had only given Lady Penelope the note as part of a ploy to get her to speak to him again.

As he settled back into his seat, Duncan had no doubts that Harlington likely had several other similar schemes ready to draw the truth out of Lady Penelope.

For a brief moment, he once again considered warning her about them. But upon stealing yet another glance at her delicate features in the bluish, low light—eyes wide with anticipation and a smile tugging at the corners of her lips, Duncan held back.

He needed to know what had pushed her away from him so suddenly. And if this was the only way to do so, then guilt be damned, he was going to find out.

* * *

Duncan welcomed the intermission with open arms and practically leaped at the opportunity to stretch his legs.

Ordinarily, the prospect of making mundane conversation about an opera he had already seen a few times this year would be the last thing he would want to do in the world.

But he didn’t know how much more of the awkward tension he could take. Although Lady Penelope appeared completely indifferent—possibly even forgetting that Duncan existed at all—he found his breath hitching every time she let out an impressed gasp or adjusted in her seat.

It had been agony.

Finally! he sighed to himself as he accepted a glass of brandy from one of the servers before they carried on attending to the other attendees that were pouring back into the entrance hall.

The way he had practically dashed out on Mother and Penelope was a far cry from what could be considered ‘good form’ or ‘gentlemanly’. But he did not chastise himself for it too much as he watched Harlington take care of them—Mother on one arm with Lady Penelope on the other.

Duncan ducked into the crowd to avoid catching their eyes, he knew that the best thing he could do for now was to give Harlington ample opportunity to learn as much as he could.

In the meantime, Lady Madalene must be wondering why Harlington’s attentions have wavered. I should probably distract her in the meantime.

He found their family with ease, remembering how her father—the Earl of Delmar—was always keen to discuss the murals that lined the opera house’s West Gallery in particular as it focused on Ancient Egypt.

Sliding next to Lady Madalene, he flashed the debutante a polite smile as he listened to Lord Delmar once again explain to the small group of peers the intricate details about the bust before them.

“At this rate, I hope the impresario is compensating your father handsomely for his zeal and dependability,” Duncan joked in a soft whisper.

“On the contrary, I believe he would pay the impresario for the opportunity to stay here full-time,” came Lady Madalene’s dry reply, but she continued to watch her father’s enthusiasm with softened eyes.

“Or perhaps the impresario should be compensating you for your patience.” Duncan smiled, his voice coming out slightly sultrier than he had intended. “I’m certain that you have memorized every detail about every piece in here by now.”

The longer their conversation carried on, the more Duncan gradually eased them towards the edge of the crowd. It was an old trick he employed whenever he wanted to ensure a lady's undivided attention—taking small, almost imperceptible steps backward every few minutes.

In this case, however, he employed it more for the sake of ensuring that their lighthearted and inconsequential discussion did not interrupt Lord Delmar’s more informative one.

As the intermission neared its end, all of the guests—including Duncan and Lord Delmar’s family—began slowly pouring out of the West gallery and into the entrance hall.

A hand landed on Duncan’s shoulder, the suddenness startled him, but the sensation was a familiar one.

“Harls.” Duncan acknowledged with a nod as the hand slid off his shoulder. “How did your quest go?”

“She was quite wary of me at first, but the conversation eased up eventually,” Harlington recounted under his breath. “She did not get the opportunity to state outright why she suddenly wants nothing to do with you. However...” his voice trailed off.

“However?” Duncan prompted impatiently.

“In our search for the answer, it appears that it has found us first.” His friend directed his eyes to a group at the far end of the room.

Duncan followed his line of sight until his eyes landed on Lady Penelope along with whatever Viscount Gloushire was saying.

“It would appear that Lady Penelope has cast you aside in favor of allowing Lord Gloushire to occupy her time,” remarked Harlington.

“Be that as it may.” Duncan pushed out a breath as he felt the fire of protectiveness stir within him, “I still don’t see why she would deem it necessary to push me away. It isn’t as though she is replacing one lover with another. We were... friends. You can still remain friends with someone.”

“But how long do you think Gloushire’s interest in her would last if he realized she was close to the infamous Duke of Blackmoore?” Harlington reasoned, giving him an apologetic look. “We get to have our fun, Blackmoore, but it does come at a price.”

Being spurned by the people around him was nothing new to Duncan. But after how Lady Penelope had stood up for him time and time again, how she sided with him against Direpeak and Newshore with almost no questions asked, after the way she-

No, there must be a deeper reason. Duncan reasserted to himself as it was more in line with what he knew about her, wasn’t it?

“It doesn’t matter now,” he finally answered—both to Harlington and himself as he nudged his way through the crowd, “The next session is about to begin.”