Page 21 of Never Dance with a Duke

A shiver skittered up Nicolette’s spine, raising her nape hairs, and she had the distinct sensation someone watched her. Subtly turning her head, she swept her gaze over the nearby boxes and those across from them and was startled to see a gorgeous, petite blonde attired in a daring scarlet gown, glaring lethal daggers at her.

She actually flinched from the venom speared in her direction.

The gown revealed all but the woman’s nipples, and Nicolette marveled at her daring. The diamond and ruby pendant she wore, nestled at the juncture of those generous breasts, drew even the most reticent eye exactly where the woman, no doubt, wanted the regard.

Swiftly averting her attention, Nicolette strove to recall if she’d met the lady before.

She didn’t look familiar.

Mathias came to stand beside her, resting one gloved hand casually on the edge of the box. “Are you enjoying yourself, Nicolette?”

Presumptuous man, using her given name.

She hadn’t a doubt he did so to make a point about her not using his.

“I am.” She took a sip of champagne, wrinkling her nose as the effervescent bubbles tickled it. “I confess, I’m having as much fun watching people as the performance.”

Megan joined them, twining her hand through Nicolette’s elbow. She leaned toward Mathias and, in a hushed voice, asked, “Mathias, who is that woman? Almost directly across from us? The one with her—um—endowments spilling from her bodice. She’s been sending furious looks in our direction all evening.”

Nicolette knitted her eyebrows together.

All evening? Indeed?

Casually lifting his flute, Mathias roved his gaze over the boxes. He stiffened visibly for two heartbeats, his eyelids lowering half-way before he took a swallow of champagne. “That would be Victoria Melbourne, Viscountess Calbraith,” he said slowly.

“Oh. Oh!” Megan’s eyes widened owlishly before a look of concern replaced her astonishment. Troubling her lower lip, she peeked at the box from beneath her lashes. “Is her husband here, as well?”

Nicolette sensed an undercurrent she couldn’t define between the brother and sister.

“No,” Mathias said shortly, turning so that his back was to the opening. “He died over a year ago. And like you, Megan, she is only recently out of mourning.”

“Oooh,” Megan said again, her tone most definitely conveying a message Nicolette didn’t understand. Megan slid another, considering glance toward the viscountess’s box. “Well, this could prove to be quite an entertaining evening.”

Lifting one eyebrow, she sipped her champagne and returned her focus to her brother.

He shrugged, seemingly disinterested.

Nicolette hadn’t met the viscountess, but she was reasonably convinced, given the peculiar exchange between brother and sister, Mathias had. And once he’d identified her, Megan also knew who she was.

“Do you know her, Your Grace?” Nicolette could’ve bitten her tongue off for blurting the question. Hadn’t she just concluded as much?

God above, she didn’t sound jealous, did she?

“In a manner of speaking,” he murmured, his gaze pointed to the floor.

Megan caught Nicolette’s eye and gave an infinitesimal shake of her head while mouthing, “Later.”

How very peculiar.

Nicolette angled her head in acknowledgment, but couldn’t prevent her attention from straying to Mathias again. A pensiveness had crept over his handsome features, and a muscle ticked in his jaw.

Where had the light-hearted duke gone?

She’d never seen this side of Mathias before. He’d always been carefree and jovial, a ready smile on his molded mouth and a blithe compliment on his tongue.

What was going on?

Who was the viscountess to him?