His grin flashed white in the dim light of the alley, as though he understood she was so nervous she might expire on the spot. “My coach awaits.”
She took the last step and would have walked on but his hold on her hand stayed her. She lifted her gaze to his.
“Relax, Miss Darling. Tonight it is merely the opera and dinner.”
“I’m well aware of that. I had no plans for anything more.”
This time his grin seemed to be calling her a liar, but she didn’t challenge him. Although she had mixed feelings about the condom Prudence had given her, the one she’d tucked in her reticule…just in case.
She didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed that it would not be used.
Once they were in the coach, sitting opposite each other as they traveled through the London streets, his gaze never wavered from hers, and to her disappointment, she was the first to look away. Whenever he watched her, she grew uncomfortably warm. She’d never experienced this inexplicable change in her body around any of Feagan’s lads, even when they were all younger and slept on the same pallet. This awareness of the male allure had never visited her as it did now whenever she was in Greystone’s presence.
It was intriguing and terrifying. To distract them both from where this journey might lead, she said, “Did you know that Luke asked me to marry him? It was how he and Catherine came to know each other. She was supposed to teach me how to be an aristocratic lady.”
“I wasn’t aware of that. So how is it that you didn’t marry Claybourne?”
“I’m well aware that I do not belong with the aristocracy.”
“Yet here you are with an aristocrat.”
“You and I both know, Your Grace, that marriage is not what you have in mind.”
His eyes darkened as his gaze traveled from her upswept hair to the toes of her recently polished shoes. “No. Marriage is not what I have in mind.”
Of its own accord, her head gave a little bob. She wasn’t exactly sure what she was acknowledging. She knew only that she wasn’t offended by his candor. Rather she was quite relieved by it. She preferred knowing exactly what she was getting herself into.
Yet even with his acknowledgement she feared she truly had no clue.
Chapter 10
That Sterling had been able to walk straight to the coach, without stumbling, after having the breath knocked out of him at the sight of Frannie descending the stairs was a miracle. Only on his way home, after he’d issued his invitation, had it occurred to him that she might not possess anything appropriate to wear to the theater. He’d been debating having Catherine send a gown over to her—they were near the same size—but that carried with it the danger of Claybourne discovering their little tryst, which might then result in Sterling acquiring another black eye. He’d decided that no matter what she wore, he would be delighted to have her on his arm.
Instead, he’d arrived to discover that she was stunningly beautiful. Fortunately, he had an oil lamp in the coach so he could feast his eyes on her as they journeyed through the London streets. She’d grown quiet after he’d confirmed that marriage was not in the offering, and although he wanted her in his bed, he wanted her there as honestly as possible. He’d never used false promises to lure a lady into his arms, and he wasn’t about to start with Frannie. She deserved that much consideration at least. In truth, she deserved a great deal more.
“The way you’re staring, I’d think you’ve never seen a woman dressed in an evening gown,” she finally said.
“I’m not staring. I’m admiring. I’ve never seen you dressed so provocatively. Why didn’t you wear that gown to my sister’s wedding?”
“It was her day, nothing should detract from her. Besides, it’s a bit bold for such an occasion.”
“I like bold in a woman.”
She laughed lightly, an amazing sound that was far lovelier than the most skilled orchestra he’d ever heard perform. “You should watch your words, Your Grace. I shall take them to heart.”
“I should like that, Miss Darling.”
“You seem to be flirting with me, Your Grace, but I don’t think you should lose sight of the fact that I’m with you tonight only because of your threat to have one of my orphans arrested.”
“I only seem to be flirting? Then I must put forth greater effort so I leave no doubt.”
“I’d rather you didn’t. Put forth more effort, I mean.”
“You do realize that a good many women would be flattered to have a duke escort them to the opera.”
“Perhaps you should have invited one of them.”
“None of them intrigue me as you do, Miss Darling.”
“We both know the infatuation will be short-lived.”
“On the contrary, I know men who have had the same lover for years.”
She gazed out the window, giving him the opportunity to study her profile and the elegant sweep of her neck. He wanted to cross over and sit beside her, kiss his way from her shoulder to the sensitive spot just behind her ear, feel the rapid flutter of her heart against his lips as he neared his destination, but he feared if he went too fast, took too much too soon, that he’d be in danger of losing his ultimate reward, that she would seek to evade him as quickly as Charley Byerly had.
Besides, strangely, he wanted to sit through the opera with her, wanted to enjoy dinner. He yearned to have her in his bed, without question, but he longed for a good deal more. He wanted, with her, memories he’d never sought with any other woman.
“Why do you suppose women do that?” she asked quietly. “Settle for being a lover instead of a wife?”
“Because sometimes it’s the only way to have someone in your life, when circumstances dictate marriage be based on something other than love.”
Slowly, she brought her gaze back to bear on him. “Have you ever loved a woman?”
“I suppose you’re referring to something other than the brotherly love I feel for Catherine.” It was now his turn to gaze out the window. “Once. I thought I did. But my affection for her turned so swiftly to dislike that I’m no longer certain.”
“What happened?”
“I told her the truth.”
“About what?”
He gave his attention back to her. “About me, Miss Darling. In spite of my rank and wealth, I shall make an unsatisfactory husband. So consider yourself fortunate that there is no hope for a marriage between us.”
Her brow pleated. “What is your failing?”
“Miss Darling, I have every intention of seducing you, and I have enough skill at seduction to know that revealing my failings is not the way to go.”
“I suppose I should be forthright and reveal that I have no intention of being seduced.”
“I so enjoy a challenge, Miss Darling.”
“I shall keep that in mind, Your Grace.”
“Are you nervous about coming to my residence later for dinner?” he asked.
She shook her head, met his gaze. “No.”
“I’m not sure I’ve ever met a woman who meets my gaze as often as you do.”
“A man’s eyes can tell you a great deal. If he is quick to anger, if he’s the vengeful sort. If he’s proud. The proud ones are the best for fleecing.”
“I’d have thought they’d be the worst.”
“They don’t usually report that they’ve had their pockets picked. They fear it will make them appear the fool. So they simply replace whatever it is you took.”
“You say that with a certain amount of pride, as though you believe stealing is honorable.”
“I can’t deny that I’ve always taken a certain satisfaction in being so very skilled at what I did. I was the only one of Feagan’s brood not to see a stint in prison.”
“Your eyes, no doubt. I suspect even if you’d been caught you could have persuaded a judge to let you go.”
“I’ve been told they’re my finest physical attribute.”
“Told? Surely you own a mirror.”
�
�I don’t often gaze into it, and certainly I don’t linger there.”
Fascinating. He’d never known a woman who didn’t take up residence in front of a looking glass. “Why have you an aversion to gazing in the mirror?”
“Because within a mirror I can’t avoid looking into my own eyes. The life I’ve lived is reflected in my eyes and there are parts of it that I wish to forget.”
“Yet, it has made you the fascinating woman you are.”
And he was fascinated with every aspect of her. Perhaps he would prolong the moment of taking her to his bed simply so he could have more moments like these, but even as he thought through that strategy, he knew he wanted her too desperately to wait for very long before having her.
The coach rolled to a stop in front of the Royal Italian Opera. When he’d left England, it was the Covent Garden Theater. It seemed nothing remained the same. The footman opened the door, Sterling stepped out, then handed Miss Darling down.
“Have you ever attended the opera?” he asked as he offered her his arm.
“The previous Earl of Claybourne brought me once. I thought it was quite amazing, the costumes, the performers, and their singing was not to be believed.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” He led her into the lobby, wondering why he hadn’t remembered what a crush it was as people waited to take their seats. He regretted that for a while he would have to concentrate on his surroundings rather than her. “I abhor the opera.”
She stopped walking, forcing him to do the same. With any luck they could stand there until most people had gone in search of their seats.
“Then why did we come?” she asked.
“Because it was the only thing I could think of that I thought you might possibly agree to.”
He couldn’t tell if she was flattered or incensed.
“Luke’s grandfather couldn’t stand it either. We left halfway through the performance. I’ve half a mind to make you sit through it all,” she said, a saucy grin falling into place.
“If it would please you, I shall accept my punishment without complaint and even applaud when it is over, although I must confess that having you near will make it bearable.”
“You’re well practiced when it comes to flattering a lady.”
“I must admit that I excel at the gentlemanly art. However, do not make the mistake of thinking that I don’t mean the words I speak.”
“You must want what you…want very much to sit through opera.”
“Quite honestly, Miss Darling, taking the picnic this afternoon with you was the most enjoyable time I’ve had since returning to England. I wished only to extend it, so here we are.”
He had no idea if his words pleased her, because something just beyond them caught her attention and she smiled. He turned in the direction and saw Marcus Langdon—Claybourne’s cousin and once heir to the title—bearing down on them with Lady Charlotte Somner, daughter to the Earl of Millbank, at his side. The man favored Claybourne very little. Sterling suspected it had to do with him having a childhood of ease, while Claybourne had grown up in the criminal world.
With his silver eyes reflecting as much merriment as his smile, Marcus Langdon approached and bowed low. “Your Grace.”
“Mr. Langdon. Lady Charlotte.”
Lady Charlotte beamed up at him. “Your Grace.”
“And Miss Darling.” Mr. Langdon took Miss Darling’s hand and brought it up for a kiss. “What a pleasure to see you both here.” He turned toward the lady at his side. “Lady Charlotte, allow me to introduce Miss Frannie Darling.”
Lady Charlotte didn’t acknowledge the introduction. Rather, she gave her full attention to Sterling, her smile growing brighter. “Your Grace, I can’t tell you how lovely it is to see you here. You must join us for dinner some evening and regale us with tales of your travels.”
Langdon appeared flummoxed by his lady’s rude behavior. “Lady Charlotte, you’re familiar with my cousin, the Earl of Claybourne. Miss Darling is one of his dearest friends.”
“So, she’s one of those people, is she?”
Before Sterling could champion the lady at his side, she said, “And which people are those, Lady Charlotte? Those who care about the poor and indigent of our society? Those who see the criminal justice system as anything except just?”
“Those who carry the dirt of the streets on their skirts. If you’ll excuse me, I need to visit the ladies’ toilette. Standing here has made me feel dreadfully unclean.” With that, she spun on her heel and marched away.
“Oh, my goodness,” Langdon stammered. “My sincerest apologies, Miss Darling, Your Grace, I had no idea—”
Miss Darling touched his arm. “Don’t concern yourself, Mr. Langdon. It’s unfortunate that some have a very low opinion of me, but I assure you I don’t lose sleep over it.”
“But still, my cousin—”
“Shan’t hear of this incident from me.”
He nodded, seemingly relieved, and Sterling realized he might have had concerns about dealing with Claybourne’s wrath. Having suffered through a visit from Dodger and Swindler, Sterling hardly blamed him.
“You’re most gracious, Miss Darling,” Langdon said.
“I’m nothing of the sort. You can’t be held responsible for another’s actions. Enjoy the opera.”
“You as well.” He nodded at Sterling. “Your Grace.”
Then he walked away to find the rather unpleasant Lady Charlotte, who, Sterling thought, would find herself falling out of favor with Mr. Langdon. A pity for her, as Sterling had heard the rumors that Langdon was now employed by his cousin at a very advantageous salary.
“Do you get that often?” Sterling asked quietly, turning his attention back to Miss Darling.
“No. Because I stay away from the aristocracy as much as possible.”
“We don’t all behave as abominably.”
“Not all, no. But a good many. May we find our seats now?”
“Would you rather leave?”
“Absolutely not. I may be bloodied, but I can still carry a sword.”
“You’re quite remarkable, Miss Darling. I’m quite honored to be with you tonight.” Extending his arm, he welcomed the feel of hers entwined with his.
“We’ll see how you feel tomorrow, when rumors have had a chance to spread.”
“You’re quite the cynic when it comes to the aristocracy.”
“No, simply a realist.”
Her words jarred him. Had he not said the same to Catherine?
He escorted her toward the stairs, grateful to realize that with her on one side of him, navigating the other was not nearly as difficult. “At my sister’s wedding, when your friends circled around you, that’s what they were seeking to protect you from, the unkind regard of others in attendance.”
After they’d found their way to his box and taken their seats, she said, “When I was much younger and lived in Claybourne’s residence, Luke’s grandfather arranged an afternoon tea in the garden with a few of the girls my age. They arrived in coaches and carriages and they were so beautiful. Their laughter was soft and sweet, so very different from the harsh laugher in the rookeries. I thought, ‘Oh my goodness, I’m going to be like them.’
“They hurt me that day without touching me. They taught me that words can slice like a knife. They wanted to know about life in the rookeries, and I made the mistake of telling them that I slept with Luke and Jack and Jim. And sometimes at night, I still slept with Luke. They made it into something ugly. It was really rather innocent. To lie in the circle of someone’s arms while you sleep can be very, very nice. But I never slept with them again. Never told them why. Those girls took that from me. And I let them.”
While she recited the facts without emotion, still he knew she must have experienced a world of hurt. She possessed a kindness that went beyond anything he’d ever experienced before. He couldn’t imagine her intentionally bringing harm to another person. He was ashamed to admit that he knew several acquaintances would se
e her as a bit of sport.
“Tell me who they are and I shall see that matters are put to right,” he told her.
She gave him a whimsical smile. “It was long ago, Your Grace. And I do not hold a grudge. Although I must admit that sometimes, I miss having someone to sleep with.”
Reaching out, Sterling trailed his gloved finger along her bare arm. “We could remedy that. Tonight if you like.”
“I suspect, Your Grace, that you want to do a good deal more than sleep.”
“You should take it as a compliment, Miss Darling. Since returning to England, I’ve not propositioned one lady.”
“On the surface, admirable.” She gave him an impish grin. “But then I suspect you don’t consider all women ladies.”
“Very few, in fact.”
The lights were doused, and Sterling cursed the darkness. Even the lights that illuminated the stage did not push back the shadows in his box. He couldn’t clearly see Miss Darling. He could only smell the sweetness of her, memorize the shape of her silhouette, and become increasingly aware of the warmth of her body so near to his.
Leaning near her, he whispered, “Rest assured, I do consider you a lady.”
“One you wish to bed.”
Tugging off his glove, he skimmed his finger along the shoulder exposed when her shawl fell slightly. “That is not an insult. I’m very particular.”
He was near enough that he heard her swallow, before she said in a low voice, “As am I, Your Grace.”
Stilling his caress, he sat back. She wasn’t going to come to him easily. Fortunately, he enjoyed a challenge.
Chapter 11
Halfway through the opera, Frannie decided to be merciful and suggested that they leave. She wanted to avoid the press of people, and she wasn’t able to truly enjoy the performances, as she was well aware of Greystone watching her rather than the performers. She wasn’t bothered by his perusal. Truth be told, she was quite flattered that he seemed unable to take his eyes off her, but she was finding it difficult to relax, wondering where dinner might lead.
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