Page 6 of Sinfully Daring

“What he means is, he wishes to flirt with all the actresses,” Mama said, shaking her head and making Rosamund laugh. “Come, let us stretch our legs. It’s too stuffy for words in here.”

They walked arm-in-arm, greeting friends and chatting as everyone mingled during the interval. Mama fell into conversation with Mrs Bonnie Cadogan, and Rosamund, who did not know the people they were discussing, looked about her to see who else was here. A tall man with broad shoulders and dark hair caught her eye, and she smiled, realising it was Lord Hargreaves. He turned and Rosamund raised her hand in greeting. She wondered if it was only her imagination that made his eyes light with pleasure at the sight of her. Either way, he extricated himself from the conversation he’d been having and made his way over.

“My lady, good evening. How are you enjoying the production?”

Rosamund looked up at him with a smile, admiring how well he looked in his evening blacks. His coat and trousers were tightly fitted to his athletic form, as was the fashion, and he cut a splendid figure. “Oh, it’s marvellous. I love the theatre, especially when Jules holds his tongue and stops criticising them for changing or cutting bits from the book.”

He laughed, the sound making women’s heads turn his way, and Rosamund noticed tiny lines crinkled about his eyes. She bit back a smile, wondering if he was truly sensitive about his age as he pretended to be, but the lines only added to his appeal.

“Ah, a critic. I always pity them, for they do not seem to gain half so much enjoyment from the theatre as I do. I, for one, am happy to be transported for an hour or two, even if it isn’t quite what I expected.”

“Yes, exactly!” Rosamund replied, pleased he felt the same way.

He was such a lovely man, and such good company, Rosamund could not understand why his wife treated him as she did. She immediately scolded herself for the thought, for she had promised herself not to think about or pass judgement on either of them, or their marital strife. It was hard, though, for as she had come to know him better, she had learned how kind and funny Lord Hargreaves was, and the gossip about his wife and the state of their marriage made Rosamund want to weep for him. They had bumped into each other almost daily since the Digby-Jones’ ball and he always stopped to speak with her for a few moments. Her mama liked him very much, as did her father, and Jules had even invited Hargreaves to attend his club with him.

“By the by, I spoke to Ashburton yesterday,” he said, lowering his voice.

Rosamund’s stomach did an odd little flip at the idea he’d been discussing her with Lord Ashburton. “You did?”

He nodded, frowning down at the carpet as he spoke. “Yes, I made a great show of admiring you, made some rather too pertinent comments about your lovely figure, and wondered why some lucky fellow hadn’t snapped you up yet.”

“Oh.” Rosamund stared at the floor too, so he wouldn’t see her blush. “And what did he say?”

Hargreaves hesitated. Rosamund looked up, narrowing her eyes at him. “What did he say?” she repeated with a heavy sense of inevitability.

He winced, speaking as though the words pained him. “He said you’d only just come out and couldn’t be much over sixteen, so you had plenty of time.”

“He said what?” Rosamund shrieked, before remembering herself as heads swivelled in their direction.

Hargreaves cleared his throat and glared at anyone who didn’t turn away before he spoke again.

“He also said anyone with half a brain would stay clear for a few years or the duke would disembowel them, which seemed a fair point to me, I must say.”

“The rat,” Rosamund seethed. “I’m nineteen! Oh, how could he?”

Well, didn’t that just prove what she had always suspected? Pip thought her a silly child. Perhaps she was, for she’d wasted her time pining for him when he never spared her a thought. Annoyance warred with hurt feelings, but Rosamund was relieved to discover exasperation won out. Well, fine. She was done trying to catch his eye. There were plenty more fish in the sea and she’d jolly well find one that desired her company. It wasn’t as if there were not plenty of candidates.

Suddenly aware she’d been fuming silently for some time, Rosamund glanced up to discover Lord Hargreaves watching her with a mixture of sympathy and amusement.

“I beg your pardon,” she said, a little mortified by her behaviour.

“There’s no need. He’s a young fool, I’m afraid, but most of us are at that age. Men take a lot longer to gain good sense in their preferences for women.”

There was a wry tone to his words, but Rosamund was too cross to pay it much mind.

“He’s only about four years younger than you are,” she grumbled.

“Ah, but what a four years that is,” he replied with a crooked smile. “At my advanced age, I have gained the benefit of great wisdom, which I disperse with enormous generosity, naturally.”

Rosamund gave a huff of laughter. “So you do.”

He smiled, but the concern in his expression remained. “You’re not too disappointed?” he asked. “I will persevere if you wish me to, though I must be honest and say that Ashburton seems to have other matters on his mind at present. He is only in society at all because his father demands it, I think.”

Rosamund nodded. “He seems distracted, I agree. But no, I am not heartbroken, only… Oh, I am disappointed, I suppose. Did he not care that a married man had taken an interest in me?”

Hargreaves rubbed the back of his neck, frowning over the question. “I am uncertain he took me seriously. Sadly, my reputation for good behaviour precedes me. You’d have been better served had the Comte de Villen taken an interest. Now, that would cause a stir.”

“I don’t wish to cause a stir,” Rosamund replied, shaking her head. “I just thought it would be a good match. We’ve been friends all our lives, our families are close, and—”