Never one to forget his manners, even when he wanted to toss his mother into the pit below, Riverton bowed to the ladies. “Mama, what a surprise to see you tonight. As pleasant as such an occasion must be, did you not get my note that I would be using the box tonight?”
The note that was to be hand-delivered by Jenkins and accompanied by a verbal declaration from the butler that the box would be occupied that night, with no room for family. He’d considered not sending the note, since his mother and sisters so seldom went to the theater, but he’d wanted to avoid the very scene he was in right now.
“I did get your note, and assumed you’d want your sisters and me and your dear Isabelle and her lovely mama to attend, as well,” said Lady Riverton, who still hadn’t even looked in Lizzie’s direction. “Where did his grace run off to? That’s most peculiar, indeed.”
“His grace is right here,” said Riverton, turning to find the hall behind him empty. “Or he was, at any rate, along with Lords Arthur and Henry.” A quick glance at the nearby Lynwood box showed that the three Kellington brothers had beaten a quick retreat and were apparently showing their support for Lizzie from a short yet safe distance away.
A subtle tug at his arm indicated Lizzie would like to join them.
While understanding completely, but unable to escape due to the curse of good manners, Riverton pressed Lizzie’s hand ever more firmly onto his arm. Because if he had to suffer, she did, too.
“Please tell his grace that he is most welcome to join us,” said Lady Riverton, even as her daughters rearranged themselves to appear in the duke’s line of sight in the nearby box.
“I believe his grace has already settled. Please excuse my manners for neglecting to do this earlier, Mama, but here is Lady Elizabeth, whom I have the honor of escorting this evening.”
Lizzie made her curtsy, even as she wished that a quick escape to the Lynwood box were still possible. “Lady Riverton, Lady Martin, Edith, Charlotte and Lady Isabelle, it’s a delight to see you tonight,” she said. “Are you as excited as I to see the play?”
There was a long, strained moment when Riverton thought it quite possible that every woman in the box would give Lizzie the cut direct. He certainly wouldn’t put it past his mother or sisters. But the timid Lady Isabelle broke the tension.
“I am very excited to see the play, although I hope I can understand it. I find Shakespeare quite difficult to comprehend.”
“There’s nothing wrong with Isabelle’s comprehension, I assure you,” said Lady Martin quickly as she frowned at her daughter for revealing a potential weakness. “If there’s any confusion, I’m sure it’s to be found with the actors or the play itself.”
“But Mama, it’s Shakespeare,” said Lady Isabelle. “He’s one of the most acclaimed writers in all history. The fault cannot lie with him, can it?”
The look Lady Martin turned on her daughter would’ve quelled Napoleon in his prime. Riverton was about to put the woman in her place when Lizzie stepped in.
“Might I sit next to you, Lady Isabelle? Shakespeare can be rather difficult to understand. I know I had difficulties when I first began studying his work. But as I am familiar with the play, perhaps I could answer any questions you may have.”
Before Lady Martin could object, Isabelle smiled in relief and pointed to the empty seat beside her.
“I should like that above all things, Lady Elizabeth.”
“But that is Riverton’s seat,” said his mother.
“Not to worry, Mama, I can sit here in the back,” he said, as he gestured to an attending footman to bring a chair. He would’ve much preferred sitting next to Lizzie, but, absent that, a seat in back by himself was the next best thing. He noticed that Lizzie was already answering Lady Isabelle’s questions and making the obviously nervous debutante feel more at home. Lizzie was much more adept at social gatherings than he was. Perhaps their marriage would make him more comfortable in public.
If they ever left the bedroom to find out.
The lights dimmed and Riverton sat back to enjoy the peace that came with his mother’s silence.
* * *
“What do you think of the match?” Arthur asked Liam, where they were safely ensconced away from Riverton’s box.
“He’s one of my oldest friends,” said the duke, as he kept his eye on Riverton’s box.
“We know that,” said Hal. “But what do you think of them making a go of it? Riverton’s obviously got plenty of blunt and his title goes back to the Conqueror or the beginning of time or whatever it is that impresses all the mamas, but he’s got no passion and our sister thrives on emotion.”
“Riverton is a serious, thoughtful man, one of the great intellects of the House of Lords,” said Lynwood, uncomfortably aware of Lady Charlotte’s efforts to catch his eye.
“Since when does membership in Lords qualify someone as a good husband?” asked Arthur. “Our old hunting hound Sherwood was smarter than some lords and considerably less randy. I respect Riverton, but does he have enough fire to attract Lizzie?”
“He’s lived a rather monkish existence, hasn’t he?” asked Hal.
“Only in comparison to yours,” said Liam, who had his own qualms about the match, even if he was reluctant to state them. “Neither is a twin of the other, which bodes well for compatibility. It may help temper some of our sister’s outspokenness.”
“It may,” said Arthur. “But we wouldn’t want her to lose too much of her fire. Lizzie wouldn’t be Lizzie without her spark.”
There was much for Lynwood to think about as the lights dimmed. He glanced over at the nearby box to see Lizzie in quiet conversation with a worshipful Lady Isabelle, then saw Riverton in the back row, his eyes trained on Lizzie. There was something in his countenance that made Lynwood wonder if there was something more than duty and friendship in Riverton’s offer.
Suddenly Charlotte veered rather alarmingly into Lynwood’s line of sight. The girl bent forward, giving him a most impressive display of her décolletage. He quickly turned his attention to the stage and the start of what he’d heard was the most mediocre production of the season.
But his mind was fixed on Riverton and the way he’d looked at Lizzie.
* * *
As the lights came up, Riverton hoped to catch Lizzie’s eye. He’d been watching her during the performance and been enchanted by her rapt attention to the play. She had an innate energy that invested every part of her. She was the only person he knew who could make sitting still an activity. Bent slightly forward at the waist, lips turned up in a smile, her eyes glinting with pleasure, Lizzie delighted in the performance. And he delighted in her.
As the play ended, Lady Isabelle, looking a bit confused, leaned in to Lizzie to exchange a few words. As Lizzie animatedly recapped the play, Riverton’s eyes were only reluctantly torn away from her by a comment from his mother, who was now at his side.
“She’s lovely isn’t she?” she said smugly.
“Quite,” he answered, as his eyes drifted back to Lizzie.
“I’m sure it can be arranged for you to have a few moments alone together. Lady Martin and I will be sure to drag the Kellington girl out of here. It will give Edith and Charlotte an opportunity to visit with his grace. Perhaps the rest of us can watch the play from the duke’s box, while you enjoy some privacy with Lady Isabelle.”
Riverton reluctantly turned away from the object of his thoughts. “Mama, I have no need of privacy with Lady Isabelle. Indeed, I would hate to give the wrong impression since I have no intentions toward her. However, I would be most appreciative of a few moments alone with Lady Elizabeth.”
Riverton’s mother looked like she’d been struck. By a servant.
“But you cannot possibly spend time alone in such a public venue without giving cause to speculation, especially after your actions at the ball the other night which were most unwise. Your future lies with Lady Isabelle.”
“Mother,” he said, low enough to avoid being overheard, “I
do not appreciate your matchmaking attempts. You know my interest does not lie in that direction.”
“I cannot see why it wouldn’t. Her family is one of the oldest in the ton and her portion would enable you to stop living in such economy.”
Riverton knew she really meant that Lady Isabelle’s portion would somehow loosen the purse strings in his mother’s and sisters’ living allowance. She couldn’t be further from the truth. Her widow’s portion was more than generous, as was the income for his sisters. His father had not been miserly. Yet, none of the women in his family seemed able to live within their means. They overspent and continually asked for additional funds. He had no doubt that his mother was pushing the marriage for monetary gain.
“Mama, you willfully misunderstand my wishes.”
“I understand enough,” hissed his mother, “to know that you flirt with making a tragic mistake by your attentions to that woman.”
“Mother, if by ‘that woman’ you’re referring to Lady Elizabeth, I must remind you that her bloodlines are faultless and she is also well dowered. But much more importantly, both of those attributes are outweighed by her character, intelligence and spirit. Any man would be honored to be her husband.”
“So you are considering making an offer?” His mother’s eyes were ice cold sapphires, as she studied him.
“That is a subject I am not yet willing to discuss.”
Especially since he was in doubt of whether he’d be successful in winning Lizzie. Not that he ever enjoyed discussing any aspect of his private life with his mother. If it did come to pass, she’d have to be told. Perhaps he’d let Lizzie inform her. He had a feeling his intended would enjoy that. It would be quite entertaining to watch.
Lizzie and Lady Isabelle approached him. They were, he noticed with a smile, walking arm in arm.
“Lady Elizabeth,” said Lady Riverton with a note of command, “pray let me escort you to your family’s box. I know his grace would like the chance to converse with Edith and Charlotte, and Riverton is looking forward ever so much to a private tete-a-tete with his Lady Isabelle.”
Riverton knew that as much as he would like to avoid a private conversation with Lady Isabelle, Lynwood would like to avoid the Riverton females even more. It was embarrassing how his sisters constantly threw themselves at the duke, but there was little Riverton could do but let them continue, hoping they’d eventually tire of the futility of it all and find themselves husbands. As much as it pained him to admit it, he didn’t find it likely that any man of good sense, name and fortune would offer for either of his sisters. He could only hope that two good men who needed the money would eventually step forward.
“I thank you for the offer, Lady Riverton, but Lady Isabelle and I are quite enjoying our conversation and I see my brothers more than anyone should have to. But that certainly shouldn’t stop you and the others from visiting the Lynwood box. I’m sure they’d be delighted to see you.”
Lizzie was quite sure her brothers would be anything but delighted, but since they’d been so craven as to avoid the Riverton box altogether, they deserved at least a little discomfort from Edith, Charlotte and their annoying mama.
At four and twenty, Edith was on the cusp on being placed on the shelf. Lizzie had never cared for society’s cut-off point for marital eligibility, no matter how informal. But in Edith’s case, she couldn’t imagine any man saving her from a spinster state, even with her reportedly healthy dowry. Edith was spoiled, rude and a bully. She was also overly fond of sweets and avoided physical activity as if it had fleas.
Charlotte was the much more comely sister and well aware of the fact. At one and twenty, she’d reportedly entertained offers of marriage from two gentlemen. The first had been the third son of a baronet considered too insignificant to matter, although he had been remarkably easy on the eyes. The second had been a much more eligible heir to a viscount. Unfortunately, he’d been dismissed by Charlotte as indolent (which might’ve been forgiven) and spotty (which never would).
The thought occurred to Lizzie that if she did marry Riverton, his family would become hers. It was almost enough to put paid to the idea of marriage – to anyone ever. But she realized that the decision of whether or not to marry him should be based on suitability, temperament and physical attraction. Lizzie didn’t care about his reported wealth, as long as it included an estate far enough away to effectively exile his mother and sisters.
Further musings of exile were interrupted by Lady Martin.
“Isabelle, why don’t you tell Riverton your impression of the play?”
Lady Isabelle blushed at the very idea of conversing with Riverton about such an intellectual subject.
“Did you like the play Lady Isabelle?” he asked, gently.
“I did, my lord. Lady Elizabeth and I were just discussing its meaning.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
“I did! The theater is so….theatrical. But what really interests me are Lady Elizabeth’s notions of marriage. She was just telling me about her astonishing manifesto….”
“Isabelle! I cannot believe you would discuss such a scandalous subject,” said her irate mother, who somehow looked to be on the verge of both swooning and pummeling Lizzie to within an inch of her life. “Come here this instant. You will accompany Lady Riverton and me to the Lynwood box. There will be no more talk of any such manifesto. Do you hear me?”
“But Mama…”
“That’s enough!”
Lady Martin took her daughter rather forcefully by the arm and pulled her out of the box. Edith and Charlotte had already left, hoping to forestall the lamentable exit of his grace and his brothers from the Lynwood box.
“My lord, will you join us?” asked Lady Martin sweetly, as if an even-tempered twin had suddenly taken her place.
“Thank you, no. I will stay and keep Lady Elizabeth company.”
Torn between wanting to stay and chaperone the proceedings, but not wanting those pushy Riverton girls to take the advantage with Lynwood – it was never good strategy to let a negligent marquess occupy your time when there was an available duke nearby – Lady Martin finally left the box. But not without one more scathing glare at Elizabeth.
After asking the footman to bring them champagne, Riverton and Lizzie were finally alone.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Riverton had been hoping to find himself alone with Lizzie ever since asking her to go to the theater. Yet he found himself slightly uncomfortable now that the time had finally arrived, in large part because of the conflict between what he wanted to do and those few actions that were acceptable.
“I see you didn’t waste any time trying to get a convert to your cause,” he said, as he admired how her skin glowed in the candlelight of the box.
“Lady Isabelle is a very sweet girl and has an inquisitive mind, if her mother would ever allow her to use it. Did you know she’s never read Shakespeare because her mother thinks him too coarse?”
“I’m surprised Lady Martin allows her to read anything at all. I know my mother discourages my sisters from reading anything more challenging than DeBrett’s Peerage. Although if my sisters object to the restriction, I’ve never heard them complain.”
Lizzie grinned and it seemed to bathe the entire theater in light. Most extraordinary, that.
It was odd, thought Lizzie, to be alone with this man she might marry, even if he hadn’t actually proposed. He was quite handsome in his evening clothes, but she’d been with handsome men before. It was something more than that which accounted for her slightly elevated pulse. This man, who had never raised his voice in her hearing, and, for all she knew, approached every aspect of his life in the same calm, infuriatingly serene manner, seemed to have an undercurrent of energy running through him by the very act of standing perfectly, properly still, across the box from her. He was making no effort to take her hand, to maneuver her away from the prying eyes of others – and Lizzie had no doubt they were the object of many an opera glass. He was stan
ding across from her, but from the look in his eyes, it felt like he was holding her hand. With the promise of more to come.
Much more.
As much as it intrigued her, she found herself curiously shy. “What do you like to read, my lord?”
“History, geography. I enjoy learning of explorers’ journeys as they make the world a smaller place. I read the classics.”
“No doubt in their original Greek and Latin.”
“At times. When I need a distraction.”
“And when do you need one?”
Without realizing, Lizzie had closed the gap between them and found herself standing mere inches away.
Her approach had not gone unnoticed by Riverton, whose eyes bore into hers as she came to a stop. “A distraction is frequently needed when I’m planning strategy in Lords. When problems arise on the estates that cannot immediately be solved. When my family proves challenging.”
“May I be presumptuous enough to assume they can be challenging rather often?”
“God yes,” said Riverton, as he ran his hand through his hair. “You saw evidence enough of that tonight. Currently, they’re your brothers’ problem.”
“Shall we rescue them?” asked Lizzie, whose mouth had become unaccountably dry.
“Your brothers can take care of themselves. I know my sisters certainly can.”
Lizzie wanted him to reach out and take her hand. She wanted him to press his lips to hers. An impossibility in these circumstances, but she wanted it nonetheless.
“Is Lady Isabelle your intended?” she blurted out.
After asking the question, Lizzie was unsure who was more surprised: Riverton or herself.
Never Miss a Chance (Kellington Book Two) Page 8
