The Further Observations of Lady Whistledown (Lady W 1) Read Free Page B

reservations about doing so.
    “Hm. The Marquis of Darington, I believe,” Howard said, sitting back again. “Obviously gone insane, to bring a lady into the pit with him.” He shifted closer, then glanced back at Daisy, seated quietly in the corner. “All of the lost cubs are coming into Town for the winter—and for the women—apparently.”
    Abruptly Anne was grateful for her maid’s presence. “Perhaps it’s the cold,” she answered.
    “No doubt.” He leaned even closer. “Tell me then, my dear, have you asked your parents to formally dissolve the agreement with Halfurst?”
    The light in his blue eyes seemed too interested for such an innocent question, and Anne was reminded of Pauline’s warning that she had suitors, whether she acknowledged them as such or not. “I’ve expressed some concern,” she said carefully, at the same time wondering why she was being so cautious. Once she did convince her parents to deny Halfurst’s claim, her mother would see to it that she married someone else.
    “‘Some concern’ isn’t what it sounded like earlier,” he returned, nodding at an acquaintance in a neighboring box.
    The curtains went up on stage. “Shh. It’s beginning,” she whispered, sitting forward and never more grateful to see Edmund Kean perform than she was tonight.
    She sat quietly, mesmerized, until intermission. She’d never seen Shylock played that way, nor so well; no wonder Mr. Kean’s performance had been causing such a stir in London.
    As the curtain closed, Anne joined in the applause. “My goodness,” she exclaimed, smiling, “Mr. Kean is—”
    “—completely engrossing,” a quiet male voice interrupted from the doorway. “A remarkable performance, thus far.”
    Anne and Lord Howard turned at the same moment, and then Lord Howard lurched to his feet. “Halfurst.”
    The marquis didn’t move, but remained in his relaxed lean against the rear wall, on the opposite side of the curtains from Daisy. From the maid’s startled expression, she hadn’t been aware of his entrance, either. His tall form was shadowed, but Anne sensed that his gaze was on her.
    “Lord Howard,” Halfurst continued in the same soft voice. “I recall that you had a fondness for wagering—and for other men’s wives, apparently.”
    “I am not your wife,” Anne whispered.
    He pushed upright. “You were, however, to be my companion this evening, were you not?”
    “I—”
    “Lady Anne made the wise decision to join me, instead,” Lord Howard broke in. “And I’ll thank you not to insult my character, Halfurst.”
    The marquis took a step forward, into the dim light of the chandeliers. Anne’s breath caught. The old, behind-hand garb he’d worn earlier was gone, replaced by a dark gray jacket and trousers that looked so precisely molded to his muscular frame that they couldn’t have been borrowed. Her mind, though, refused to dwell on where they might have come from. Instead, her gaze traveled up the length of him, past his pitch black waistcoat and white linen shirt and starched white cravat to his gray, glittering gaze. “You’ve…changed,” she managed, blushing.
    “Only my clothes,” he returned, his eyes still holding hers. “You didn’t seem to approve of my garb this morning.”
    “I think you should leave,” Desmond broke in.
    Anne started. She’d nearly forgotten his presence. Lord Howard wore the self-assured look she’d often seen on his square, handsome face, the look that said he knew he had the advantage, and that he intended to use it. No doubt he would next hand Halfurst one of his scathing set-downs. It was almost a pity. She wouldn’t have minded spending the evening looking at the marquis in that splendid attire.
    “I have no intention of staying,” Lord Halfurst returned with a slight, humorless smile. “The view from your box is horrendous. I’m only here to escort my fiancée to a better vantage point—namely, my box.”
    “She’s with me. You’d