Free No Regrets by Michèle Ann Young Page B

widow. "Are you fond of the theater, Lady Foxhaven?"
       "This is my first visit," Caro acknowledged. Dash it, she sounded so gauche. "I mean in London." That didn't help. She felt heat rise to her cheeks and was glad of the shadows in the box.
       "I hear there is a very good playhouse in Norwich?" Lady Audley said with an amused smile. "That is where you are from, is it not? Your home is close to the Stockbridge estate, Bascombe said."
       "Yes. We've known each other all our lives."
       Lady Audley nodded and arched a delicate eyebrow. "And was the play to your liking tonight?"
       "I liked it enormously," Caro replied with a chuckle, beginning to feel at ease with the vivacious young woman in spite of her spate of questions.
       "I am so looking forward to knowing you better," Lady Audley said, echoing Caro's own sentiments exactly. "Are you free tomorrow?"
       Caro glanced at Lucas. After her faux pas about this evening, she didn't dare make a commitment. "I am not sure."
       "You are supposed drive with me tomorrow afternoon, Luc," Mr. Bascombe said.
       Lady Audley's face fell and then brightened. "Oh, no, Bas. Have you forgotten? You promised to attend my afternoon tea."
       Mr. Bascombe groaned. "Dash it all. Luc, we will have to go another time."
       "There," Lady Audley said to Caro with a triumphant little smile on her rosebud lips. "You are free. You must come to tea tomorrow afternoon at four. Foxhaven, you will also attend."
       Lucas didn't look exactly thrilled, but he didn't say no.
       "Here is your wine, Mother," Mr. Rivers said, squeezing around Mr. Bascombe and handing a glass to his mother. "And ratafia for you, Lady Foxhaven."
       Lady Audley inclined her head. "It has been lovely meeting you all, but I really must return to my box before the iron duke sends out a search party."
       "He would too," Mr. Bascombe muttered. "The old boy makes me feel like a schoolboy when he looks down his long nose in that way of his."
       Lady Audley's laugh rang out as she stood up. "Peagoose. Wellington is a perfect dear. No, please, don't get up, Mr. Rivers. Bascombe will see me out. Don't forget, Lady Foxhaven. Four o'clock tomorrow."
       She swept out on her brother's arm, and it seemed to Caro as if someone had blown out a candle and turned the box into an empty cave.
       "Well, really," muttered Aunt Rivers. "What a flibbertigibbet. Audley must have had brain fever when he married the chit."
       "Now, Mother," Mr. Rivers said. "Lady Audley only means to be kind."
       Caro hoped it was more than kindness; she hoped they could be friends. She stifled hope and stared out into the auditorium. Perhaps Lady Audley had been forced into this by her brother and would find Caro dreadfully provincial. She stiffened her spine. Just because she had been brought up in the country didn't mean she wasn't good company. Just not very exciting. Vicars' daughters were supposed to be models of decorum.
       Lucas leaned forward in his seat. "By Jove." The relaxed, laughing man he had been a moment ago disappeared in an instant. His eyes narrowed. Tension radiated from his lean frame.
       "What is it?" Mr. Rivers asked, following the direction of his gaze.
       "Someone I need to speak to. What a piece of luck. I hope you will excuse me."
       "Really, Foxhaven," Aunt Rivers said. "Can't you be still for an hour or two?"
       "Go," Mr. Rivers said with a conspiratorial wink. "I'll take care of the ladies and bring them home too, if you wish."
       A pang of disappointment tightened the smile on Caro's lips. The evening had felt quite special with Lucas at her side.
       Lucas, on the other hand, looked relieved, as if Mr. Rivers had rescued him. "Thanks. I've no idea how long it will take. You really are a brick, Cedric. No wonder my father places such reliance on you."
       A rather resigned smile played at the corners of Mr. Rivers's thin mouth. "I'm