Free Louise M Gouge by A Suitable Wife Page B

Lord Greystone’s attempt at wit was meant to mask his discomfort over being left to escort her. She should not let his deficiencies affect her, but they did. What should have been a thrilling experience for her, one she had anticipated since childhood, was now nothing less than an exercise for her in that same kind of insincere courtesy. How ironic. They had come to be entertained by actors, but they themselves were performing roles neither wished to play. But as the daughter of an earl, she deserved courtesy and would demand it. If she must perform, at least she could write her own lines.
    “You did not answer my question, Lord Greystone. What would you rather be doing this evening?” She gave him a little smirk to show him she would persist until he answered.
    A frown darted across his brow, but his smile quickly returned, and he stared directly into her eyes. “You mistake me, my lady. I am delighted to be in this company. No other place in the world would suit me.”
    Well played. But she also felt a measure of pride over not wilting under his gaze, even if her heart did flutter in the most annoying manner. Yet such a reaction was a waste of time, so she let the matter drop and renewed her determination to enjoy this evening.
    The theatre looked just as Mama had described it. On the second floor of the playhouse, private doors and lavish draperies led to seating areas partitioned off on both sides from similar spaces around the balcony. Lord Blakemore’s box was comfortably furnished with two rows of velvet-cushioned chairs. Below them was seating for the general audience, and above was the gallery where the lower classes could purchase seats for a penny or two.
    The most lavish private box bore the crest of the Prince Regent, but His Royal Highness had not yet arrived, if he was coming at all. Beatrice was only mildly interested in seeing him, for the prince’s well-known self-indulgent lifestyle did not garner her respect. With such a ruler as an example, no wonder Melly surrendered to every temptation London had to offer a naive young peer.
    “Come along, my dears.” Lady Blakemore directed the ladies to the front row of the box, while the two gentlemen sat behind them. At least four more people would fit in this space, and Beatrice hoped Lord Blakemore had invited others. Now that she had an appropriate wardrobe, she would be pleased to meet other members of Society, even other unattached gentlemen. Perhaps some of them would regard her more favorably than Lord Greystone. Despite her lack of a dowry and all marriage prospects, her foolish heart could not help but long to be courted, or at least admired, especially since this viscount refused to perform that office.
    At the thought of him, and very much against her will, she glanced over her shoulder and saw him in quiet conversation with the earl. She heard a word or two, enough to learn that they were discussing the little chimney sweeps.
    “My investigation turned up no parents,” Lord Greystone said. “Apparently the master sweep bought them from an orphanage. I sent him compensation equal to his purchase price, though he actually deserves prison, in my way of thinking.” He shook his head. “We simply must put an end to such wicked use of tiny children.”
    “Wilberforce is up for it,” Lord Blakemore said. “After his success in abolishing the slave trade, he has come close to abolishing slavery itself within the Empire. I believe he has many friends in the House of Commons who will support anything he puts forth.”
    At his words a guileless and joyful smile lit Lord Greystone’s entire face, reminding Beatrice of his generous nature toward the poor little sweeps. Her heart skipped, but she quickly tamped down her giddy feelings. It seemed that every five minutes she needed to remind herself that the viscount had no interest in her, and she must not permit herself to be wounded by his aloofness.
    Further, she had come to see a play, her very