Free The Heir and the Spare by Maya Rodale

. .”
    “Agonizing?” Emilia supplied.
    “I was going to say that by the time I was widowed, I found other people’s affairs far more interesting than my own.”
    Groves entered just then, bearing a letter for Emilia on a silver tray. She looked at the seal and her eyes lit up.
    “What does the scoundrel want now?”
    “He wishes for us to attend the theater with him tonight.”
    “He doesn’t seem like the sort to enjoy the theater.”
    “Yes, but I am. Can we go?”
    “I am intrigued, as it is decidedly out of character. Yes, do reply that we shall attend with him.”
     
Later that evening, properly dressed for the theater, the two women once again waited in the drawing room.
    “Shouldn’t he be here by now? It is eight o’clock,” Emilia said, eyes on the clock.
    “It is unfashionable to arrive anywhere on time. One must be precisely fifteen minutes late,” Lady Palmerston replied. Her niece was sweet and well meaning, but terribly naïve about certain matters.
    “What a silly rule.”
    “Of course. That is why we follow it religiously.”
    At precisely eight fifteen, Groves announced that the scoundrel had arrived. Those weren’t his exact words, of course. But nevertheless, they donned their shawls and went out to his carriage.
    Phillip’s carriage was black. Inside it was richly appointed with red velvet seats. The scoundrel moved to the opposite side of the carriage so the ladies could ride facing forward. Emilia, once again disregarding the rules, sat beside him. Lady Palmerston gave them a warning glance.
    “What are we seeing tonight?” Emilia asked.
    “I have no idea,” Phillip answered casually. “I figured we would just look at everyone else in attendance. I have a very good view from my box.”
    Lady Palmerston laughed. “Huntley, that is the first thing to come out of your mouth that I have liked.”
    “Pleasing you, Lady Palmerston, has been the highlight of my life,” he replied dryly.
    Clearly they understood each other, Lady Palmerston thought. He seemed well aware of the fact that she disapproved of him. But what on earth did her niece see in him? So what if he had caught Emilia once when she tripped! So had footmen all over town—some of them just as handsome, in her opinion—and Emilia had not fallen madly and inexplicably in love with any of them. She might grant that his reputation did give him an air of intrigue, the stuff of novels that a girl would no doubt find irresistible. She should never have told her niece that. Yet it was precisely because of that reputation that she was highly suspicious of his present utterly decorous behavior toward her niece. She was not privy to his finances, naturally, but everyone knew of Emilia’s fortune.
     
The box did indeed have an excellent view, Emilia thought, as she leaned over the balcony to look at the jostling crowds below. The air smelled of the many bodies packed in, tempered by the oranges being sold and devoured.
    Phillip occupied the chair beside her, seeming slightly bored by what must have been routine to him. But he couldn’t dampen her excitement at being at the theater. Lady Palmerston removed a pair of gold quizzing glasses from her reticule and started scanning the other boxes, her silence punctuated by the occasional hmmph. The din of the crowds fell silent as the velvet curtain parted for Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night , one of Emilia’s favorites that she had read many times, but had never seen performed.
    “If music be the food of love, play on . . .”
    As Phillip leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, Emilia leaned forward in her seat, taking in the brightly painted backdrops and costumes of the actors. She murmured the lines along with the actors. Every now and then she would look over to see if Phillip was enjoying this at least half as much as she was.
    The man had fallen asleep!
    She scowled at him, then turned her attention back to the stage. But she couldn’t focus on the play.