Page 20

C harlotte took a deep breath, releasing it with a sigh. “I just love coming to the opera. Don’t you, Beatrice?”

Beatrice looked around nervously. This was the first time she’d been to the opera since her sister’s dinner party the other night. She hadn’t heard from the Duke since then, surely he would have sent word confirming if something were to happen tonight.

A woman’s laughter startled her as her mother led her through the throngs of people milling in the lobby. An attendant ushered them into their box where Beatrice sat stiffly next to her mother.

“Beatrice? What has come over you? You are acting very peculiar tonight.” Charlotte’s expressions did not match her concern.

She waved and smiled to friends and dignitaries in nearby boxes.

“Please tell me you’re not coming down with something.

I have it on good authority that your dance card will be full at the next ball. ”

Charlotte flicked her wrist at Lord Devlin’s box. Beatrice’s eyes landed on a very nervous looking man who sat just as stiffly next to his father. She rolled her lips. He looked dull and boring, like most of the suitors that her mother had lined up for her.

Just then a curtain moved a few boxes down from her’s, pulling her attention. The Duke of Graham entered his box and sat in the back row, middle seat.

Odd he isn’t sitting in the front seats.

As he settled into this chair he casually turned his head and looked directly at Beatrice. She watched as his head tilted as he took her in, a small, knowing smile graced his lips.

Beatrice shifted in her seat. Under his watchful eye, her heart began to race. Suddenly she couldn’t sit still. No matter which way she rested her feet, or placed her hands, nothing felt comfortable.

“Beatrice,” Charlotte whispered. “Stop fidgeting. The show is about to start. I don’t want you pulling focus.”

Beatrice kept her eyes on Graham. It was now or never.

“I’m sorry, Mama. I’m suddenly very warm. I think I’m going to slip out into the lobby for some fresh air.”

Charlotte’s eyes darted between the stage and her daughter. “What? Now? But the show is starting!”

Beatrice shook off her worry. “Would you rather I pass out here in the box or go to the lobby to ensure I’m here for the second act?”

Charlotte grimaced. “Fine. But if you’re not back for the second act you can rethink the series of books I said you could buy.”

Beatrice stopped short. “I promise, Mama. I’ll be back. It just awfully hot in here and I don’t want to embarrass you. Trust me, you put my books on the line. I will return.”

Her mother gave her a doubtful look but waved her on.

The house lights began to dim as Beatrice walked into the dimly lit hallway.

She looked both ways, up and down the hallway, before she made her way towards the Duke’s box.

Usually there were attendants standing outside the boxes in case someone needed something but, thankfully, the hallway was clear.

She stood at the door to the box and took several calming breaths. The written words of her favorite scene flooded her mind. She had thought about acting that scene out more times than she could count but standing here, on the precipice of it actually coming true was overwhelming.

Murmurs sounded from further down the hall, someone was coming.

Without a second thought she stepped through the door, pulling it shut. She pulled the curtain that covered the door in place. As her eyes adjusted to the darkened box, she noted the Duke didn’t fully turn to meet her, only turned his head slightly to the empty seat next to him.

Her heart was pounding in her ears as she cautiously stepped towards the empty chair. Her knees were wobbly and she was afraid they’d give out before she even made it the three measly steps that were needed.

Her body was a tight ball of nerves as she lowered herself into the chair. She thought for sure he would be able to hear her heart beating within her chest.

“Ah, Lady Mouse, funny finding you here.”

Beatrice swallowed over the lump forming in her dry throat.

“You invited me, did you not?”

Graham chuckled lowly, its sound winding around her like a warm blanket.

“I did say our next meeting would be at the opera. I was curious if you would take the initiative or if I needed to formally invite you.”

Beatrice sat still, her eyes unfocused on the actors on the stage.

They were bright blobs of moving colors to her.

While her eyes were trained on them, her mind was directed to the man next to her.

Every breath he exhaled, every shift in his body felt as if it was being projected right into her mind, causing her to be on high alert.

“I must say, I am quite impressed you came to find me and not the other way around.”

Beatrice pushed out a breath. If only he knew that just by looking at her he had called to her. The more time she spent with him the more she doubted she had any control of her body.

It was both terrifying and exhilarating. She had always been a big proponent of women’s rights but always fighting to be seen was exhausting. To be in the sights of someone who was looking for you was intoxicating.

Beatrice made a mental note to remember why she was doing this. He was simply a means to an end. She wanted, no, needed her list to be completed so she felt ready to face the world as an experienced, and single, woman.

She turned to face him. “Why are you sitting in the back row?”

Graham rose his eyebrow sardonically. “My, my, my. I take you to one voyeuristic party and all of a sudden you’re ready to steal the spotlight from the actors.”

Beatrice shook her head as she rolled her eyes. “I have no intention of stealing anyone’s spotlight.”

Graham lifted his arm and laid it across the back of her chair. She felt the heat of his body as it opened to her. She wanted desperately to lean into his side but she was unsure of what she should do.

The scene from the book, so vivid in her mind a few moments ago, was completely lost to her now. She couldn’t remember what the woman did, if she instigated the scene or if the man did.

Was the Duke expecting her to play the woman’s part as portrayed in the book? She couldn’t remember how it went.

“I can practically hear you thinking.” Graham murmured in her ear.

As she tried to formulate a response, her mind received a sensation alert from her shoulder. Beatrice turned her head slightly to her left to see the Duke’s finger drawing lazy circles on her skin.

Goosebumps erupted and she shivered.

“Cold?”

Beatrice shook her head ‘no.’ She felt like a complete dolt. Perhaps she was not ready for this. Disappointment and embarrassment mixed within her. She felt this way at the midnight party as well. How many more times must she feel like this to realize that perhaps her mother was right?

Beatrice felt the Duke shift beside her. When she turned, she found his eyes watching her.

“I think I agree with your mother.”

Beatrice’s eyes widened, horrified.

“You think too much, it must be from all the reading you do.” Graham’s words came out with a smirk.

She opened her mouth to reply but it was captured by his. Shock at the quick contact quickly dissolved into want.

Beatrice pressed her body into his as her hands came to his chest. Graham pulled her tighter, his one hand rested at the back of her neck, while his other one grabbed her outer thigh.

His lower touch felt as if it scorched her dress, she wouldn’t doubt if his hand print was now seared into her skin.

She moaned into his mouth as his hand began to massage her thigh. Her eyes opened and looked around, worried someone would have heard her.

“Why do you think we’re sitting in the last row?” He murmured. “Once the lights go down you could sit here naked and no one would be the wiser.”

Not only would the dark hide a naked body, it hid her blush. The thought of a naked Graham danced in her thoughts causing her core to ignite.

She clenched her thighs together to quell the building tension within her. Graham’s eyes dropped to his hand for a moment before returning to hers.

“Is kissing all you want?” He questioned. His eyes were searching hers for something, but she wasn’t sure for what.

She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment. “Well, yes… I mean, that was the opera scene in the book. So, yes, this is what I want.”

Beatrice swallowed the fear that since they technically did kiss in an opera box that Graham was going to end their experience.

She willed herself not to be upset, he did help her check off the item.

However, no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t help but feel disappointed that this may be all she’d get.

Graham’s eyes drifted the stage and the captivated audience. When he looked back to her she was surprised to see a bit a mischief in them.

“I think I can do you one better.” He drawled.

Beatrice cocked her head to the side. “How do you mean?”

“Would you consider what we are doing sufficient enough to cross off item two from your list?”

Beatrice didn’t know if her smile was from the fact he had memorized her list or from the finger that was playing with the curl that framed her face. She felt completely enveloped in this man and she never felt more seen.

She nodded. “I do.”

“Good. Now that we’ve checked that off, let me show you how I would have written that scene.”

Beatrice giggled. “I had no idea you were interested in writing.” She said coyly.

“I wasn’t until now.” Graham said as he knelt down in front of her.

Beatrice looked up into the audience. “What are you doing?” Her frantic whisper caused some stirs from other boxes, but thankfully no one looked to see where the sound came from.

Graham smiled as he slowly pushed up her skirt. Beatrice’s eyes rounded as her hands flew to cover his and try to push them back down. “Your Grace, what are you-”

The Duke rose up on his knees and silenced her with a kiss. Beatrice momentarily forgot her hesitation and met his tongue with hers.