Free Lady Sabrina’s Secret by Jeannie Machin

Rosalind been better performed. It wasn’t until just before the intermission that Deborah noticed how frequently the actress’s warm glance went to her lover in his private box, and as for the duke, his gaze scarcely wavered from his magnificent mistress. Deborah still harbored uncharitablethoughts where Rowan Sinclair was concerned, and she could not believe that someone as vibrant and full of joie de vivre as Kate Hatherley could be enthralled by such an arrogant and impossible man. Evidently he had hidden qualities , but they were so well hidden that in her opinion they were buried beyond all detection!
    When it came the intermission was very welcome indeed, for the theater was very hot and many of the audience wished to take advantage of the refreshing drinks provided in the vestibule. Deborah and Mrs McNeil were no exceptions, for the thought of iced lime cup was very enticing indeed, and so they left their box to make their way down the staircase again. The babble of voices in the vestibule was so loud that it was hard to make oneself heard, and as Deborah left Mrs McNeil and pushed her way toward the table where the drinks were to be acquired, Rowan Sinclair was the last person on her mind. But she was about to remember him again, and in circumstances as unpleasing as the two other occasions upon which they’d met.
    She had almost fought her way to the table when she trod upon the cocked hat dropped by a gentleman to her left. She immediately stooped to retrieve it and brush the dust of her footprint from its pristine black surface, and then she raised her eyes to the gentleman concerned. Her heart sank at the virtual inevitability of finding that it was the Duke of Gretton.
    His blue eyes were coolly resigned. ‘Is there something about my taste in apparel which offends you, Mrs Marchant?’ he inquired, his voice raised in order to be heard above the hubbub.
    â€˜Your apparel is of no interest to me, sirrah, but rather isit you yourself that offends me,’ she replied, not bothering to brush the remaining dust from the hat, but simply thrusting it into his hand.
    He glanced down at the unfortunate hat, and then met her gaze again. ‘Will you grant me one small favor, madam? Please promise me that you will not be attending the next assembly room ball, for if you do I fear we are bound to meet once again, and I shudder to imagine what catastrophe might further befall my innocent clothing.’
    Her gray eyes flashed. ‘Sirrah, you alone have been responsible for every mishap that has occurred when you and I have met, and if you are becoming fearful for your sartorial perfection, I suggest that you should be the one to stay away from the ball, not me.’
    With that she turned her back on him, and proceeded to the table to request two glasses of the lime cup. Then, being very careful to steer well clear of him, she pushed her way back out of the crush to where Mrs McNeil was waiting.
    The older woman had witnessed the latest heated exchange. ‘Oh, dear, things appear to be going from bad to worse where you and the duke are concerned,’ she murmured, sipping the deliciously cold drink.
    â€˜It was hardly my fault that he dropped his wretched hat.’
    â€˜No, but if you wish to approach his sister, might it not have been more sensible to adopt a less antagonistic manner?’
    Deborah lowered her glance and sighed. ‘You are right, of course, but it is very difficult to maintain one’s temper when one is spoken to as I was a moment ago. “Is there something about my apparel which offends you, Mrs Marchant?” She mimicked his voice, and then pulled a face.
    Mrs McNeil smiled. ‘I grant you that such an inquiry was calculated to goad.’
    â€˜It was indeed,’ Deborah replied, turning to glance toward him again, but he was nowhere to be seen. ‘No doubt he’s eager to feast his eyes upon his inamorata again,’ she observed