The crush at the opera would have pushed Amanda along in a most uncomfortable way had they not given her a bit of space due to her title and the fact that her father accompanied her. Loud laughing at her left startled her from her thoughts. A group of this year’s new debutantes, some she had not met yet, leaned together in a small huddle, looking at something.
The duke noticed and chuckled. “It looks like our dear artist has printed a new satire.”
“Our dear artist?” Amanda swallowed, her hands shaking a little.
The duke smiled. “Surely you have seen his work. It seems that everybody’s talking about it. Peter Hamilton is his name.”
Amanda nodded, breathing out, “Oh yes, Father, I have seen one or two of his fliers, I believe.” They continued walking toward their box. Her father’s strong arm provided comfort as well as support as she rested her hand in the crook of his elbow.
He said, “Oho! I think I see one now.” He reached and picked up a flier from a nearby table. “Someone must have discarded.”
Her heart pounded in her chest when she recognized it. The mother and baby stared at her with hopeless eyes, along with the other passengers of the prison cart. She commanded her heart to still, and she watched her father’s expression. His eyebrows furrowed as he took in all of the detail.
“No, this is not one of Hamilton’s satires. I find nothing at all amusing in this drawing.”
She leaned toward him to look at the drawing herself, though she had long since memorized each line.
“The artist has great talent, however,” her father went on. “This young boy’s eyes will haunt my dreams tonight.”
A smile threatened to break through on her face. The art pleased her father and touched him. She could not receive a higher accolade. “I wonder at its purpose. Who are these people? And why are they in a cage?”
“As to its purpose, I could not say. It does make one dreary to think of people in such a condition. I wonder who the artist could be? It is signed simply, The Sparrow.” Her father folded the paper into thirds and slipped it into his waistcoat pocket. “And here he is! Did I mention we are meeting Lord Needley tonight?”
Amanda glanced up in surprise at her father and then ahead at Needley himself as he approached.
“No, Father, you neglected to tell me.” She looked at him in mock reproach. “But never mind. I find I am in the mood for a bit of fun. And Lord Needley will always provide.” She left the crook of her father’s arm and stepped forward to greet their guest. “My dear Lord Needley! How good of you to join us.”
His smile grew as he stood a little taller. Then he placed her hand on his arm. “Shall we, my lady?”
“Thank you, my lord.” She stepped back a bit as if to look over his person from boot to top hat. “I must say, Lord Needley, you are looking well.” They began walking, her father following a few paces back.
He blushed, and his lip quirked in a crooked smile. “My lady, you shouldn’t say such things. My head shall swell.” When she pouted, he said, “But I thank you.”
She flashed him her most brilliant smile. His feet faltered, and she had to slow her walk to remain by his side. She wondered at his reaction. Surely no person is that physically affected by another.
As she turned her head, she startled at the sight of Lord Nathaniel’s big frame suddenly standing close to her small one. In the bustling crush, she hadn’t been aware of his approach.
She breathed in his musky scent and felt her knees go weak. Her mouth felt full and dry as cotton, and her heart pounded in her chest. She clutched Lord Needley’s arm tighter to keep herself from trembling. She dipped a low curtsy and rose slowly, watching him through her lashes.
Lord Nathaniel nodded his head at her. “Good evening, Lady Amanda. Lord Needley. If you’ll excuse me, I must find my box.” Lady Amanda’s eyes widened. He stared meaningfully at her, directed her gaze to his hands, where he held two fliers. He angled them so she could see and then walked past, toward his own box. Her heart sank. Of course he knew she drew the fliers. She must find a way to talk to him somehow tonight.
Lord Needley gently pulled her with him, encouraging her to walk again as they made their way toward her father’s box. “That man is always running off in a most abrupt way, is he not?”
She answered something in a noncommittal fashion, distracted. They arrived at her father’s box and took their seats, she and Lord Needley sitting behind her father. Her mother would be arriving shortly with a couple of her widowed friends.
As the lights dimmed and the audience prepared for the performance, Amanda’s cheers and applause were not at all forced. As soon as the curtain opened, she became swept up in the scenes and the beauty of the music. But moments before intermission, her mind wandered, and she found herself often looking at the profile of the man beside her. He was exceptionally handsome.
Why can I feel no attraction to him? He was perfectly kind and amiable. He was wealthy and successful, titled, and perfectly committed to her. Her father supported him. And she could tell that he would allow her many liberties other men would not. She suspected she could talk him into anything.
But would he understand her work? She tried to imagine telling him about her illustrations, about the stirring words she’d heard in the church square. She could not envision his response. She realized with a start that she knew nothing of his desires, goals, hopes. What drove him? Where were his interests and passions? She sighed.
“What is it, my lady? May I get you a lemonade?” He was ever attentive, and intermission had begun without her realizing.
“I would like that. In fact, let us go together. I could use a turn about the theatre.” They were immediately surrounded by the crush outside the boxes and surrounding the refreshment tables. However, they soon found a cozy corner to stand in, drinks in hand. Amanda looked to her left where a group of ladies laughed together. Were they looking at more fliers?
She scanned faces and immediately saw young Baron Kenworthy and two other very eligible men with him, heading in her direction. “Oh, Sir Kenworthy, there you are. You walked up at just the right moment, because you see, I have quite a quandary.”
He bowed over her fingertips. “Oh? And what is your quandary, fair maiden? Perhaps we can solve it.” They all nodded, willing enough for the game.
She put on her prettiest pout. “Well, you see, I chose this dress especially for you, all four of you.” She gestured to include Lord Needley and the three men who had just arrived. “I thought it quite fetching on me, you see.” She paused and the men jumped in, chorusing her beauty and the many benefits of her gown. She nearly rolled her eyes but forbore. “But then I saw that beautiful creature onstage, singing like an angel of light and I gave up all hope. For she outshines us all.”
She paused with eyes downcast for just a moment then looked up hopefully, fluttering her eyelashes at the men. Lord Needley remained surprisingly silent, but the other three lauded her charms for several moments and would have continued had she not interrupted.
“Thank you so. Hearing such undeserved praise from men as handsome as you four causes my heart to flutter.” She placed a hand at her neckline and smiled. They beamed back at her.
Lord Needley cleared his throat. “I do believe intermission is almost at an end, my lady.”
“I am sure you are correct. It is reassuring to have you by my side to remember such things.” She returned her hand to his arm.
The girls to her left broke out in loud giggles. Amanda could almost sense the mamas of the ton fainting dead away. She looked up to see the cause. Her own heart stammered as Lord Nathaniel sauntered in their direction. Each of the girls fluttered her eyelashes, dipped a curtsy, and tried to get his attention.
Was it her imagination or did they seem much more obvious than usual? Amanda raised her hand to her mouth as one of the girls stepped in front of him, blocking his path so abruptly he almost ran her down. His body brushed hers before he could back away. Instead of shying away in embarrassment, the girl leaned in to him and put her hand on his chest. He took two steps back and bowed to her before moving to the side to step around her. When he did, another girl stepped in his way and curtsied deeply.
Amanda began a slow smile of amusement. What was wrong with these girls? Lord Nathaniel caught her eye as he was coming up from his bow. She raised her eyebrows in speculation, but he narrowed his eyes at her and frowned. Taken aback, she drew in a breath.
Her reaction was not lost on her companion. “Strangest man of my acquaintance, that Lord Nathaniel. What could he possibly be scowling at you about? Come, my dear. We should get back to your parents.”
Amanda nodded but kept looking at Lord Nathaniel as if staring at him would help solve the puzzle. She didn’t have to stare long, however, because within moments he was marching over in strong, purposeful strides.
“Needley.” He stood in front of them and nodded. Lord Needley pulled her closer to him and made an effort to begin walking back toward their box.
But Lord Nathaniel stopped them. “You must wait for just a moment more.”
“Oh?” Lord Needley frowned.
“To be sure. I have not yet admired this loveliest of dresses. Lady Amanda, surely you wore it just for me?”
She blushed. Had he heard her previous nonsense? She cleared her throat. “Why yes! I am so glad you noticed.” Perhaps he was hoping to return to their previous flirtations. She stepped to the side, allowing her eyes to travel from his boots to his hair, just as she had with Lord Needley. “And that tailcoat. How well it fits you. I find I am a bit breathless of a sudden.” She fanned her face and flashed him a teasing grin.
He reached for her hand and bowed over it, turning it mid bow and placing his lips on her uncovered wrist.
A puff of air left her mouth, and she swallowed slowly. He raised himself and challenged her with his expression. Though her hand still rested on Lord Needley’s arm and he’d become noticeably stiff, all she could think of was Lord Nathaniel and his lips on her skin. She wanted to be pulled against his chest and to feel his strength around her. Knowing he outmatched her in this flirting contest of theirs, she could think of nothing to do in retaliation. So she admitted defeat and allowed her shy desire to show in her expression. No disguise necessary, with an open air of need, she smiled and shrugged.
He closed his mouth and then opened it again, moving his neck around in an apparent effort to loosen his cravat. He blushed, and her heart warmed to him anew. She could never have predicted such open vulnerability.
He cleared his throat, glancing at her again, and said to Lord Needley, “Have you seen the latest fliers from Gramden’s?”
“I have not. I am not often in that part of town.”
“Well, let me show them to you. Quite remarkable, really.”
Her breath caught when he brought out her drawing.
“Not a satire, this one.”
Lord Needley looked it over and then held it back for Lord Nathaniel to take, letting it fall limply down, as if he didn’t want to touch it for too long. “What is the purpose of this, I wonder? Why draw something so disheartening?”
Her mouth turned down. “Wh-what do you mean?”
Lord Needley looked at her curiously for a moment. “Well . . . I mean . . . the people are so depressing. And the subject in general so morbid. I do not wish to seek out the hardships of life to dwell unhappily upon them, not when there is so much that is pleasing all around us.”
Her small smile acknowledged his meaning.
Lord Nathaniel said, “Perhaps it is a motivator for change.”
“It could be, yes, if it came with something to do. As it is right now, I am left to feel sorrow for people I don’t know, stuck in a situation I do not fully comprehend, with no hopes of ever seeing them again.”
She nodded and said very softly, “I see what you mean.”
Lord Nathaniel’s expression showed great sympathy for a moment, but then his eyes hardened. “The other flier I have is pure satire—much more amusing to some than others. In truth, many have pronounced it very humorous indeed.”
She leaned forward. When she saw the flier’s image, she gasped. “No!”
Another group of women walked by, and when they saw Lord Nathaniel, they giggled and smiled at him. One even had the audacity to rest her hand on his arm, letting it trail up his sleeve as she passed. He turned red and gripped the flier tighter in his fist. He put it in front of Amanda so quickly she felt the breeze from it on her face.
Looking at it more closely, she asked, “Why would anyone print such a thing?” The flier held a very good representation of Lord Nathaniel pressing his boot up against the gown of the person on is left, holding hands with the lady on his right, and making love with his eyes to the person across from him. Lady Amanda’s eyes met his with sorrow.
“I don’t suppose you know anything about this?”
She looked for the signature on the flier. Sure enough, it was Peter Hamilton, the man who had been listening so intently to them in the print shop.
“But how was he able to draw such an accurate likeness of you, my lord?”
He looked more fiercely at her. “So you know how this came about?”
She let her breath out slowly. “I know something about it, yes.”
Patrons began rushing back to their boxes and ushers snuffed out candles to make ready for the remainder of the opera.
Lord Needley stepped away, pulling her with him. “If you will excuse us, we must return to the duke’s box.”
She reached a hand out to touch Lord Nathaniel’s arm. “You may join us if you like. It would give me a chance to explain.”
“I have guests in my own box, but I will find a way. We will talk, you and I.”
About one quarter of the way into the second act, she felt a hand on her shoulder. Gray eyes stared into hers. His finger was up to his mouth, and he motioned with his head for her to follow him. She slipped from her chair to stand at the back of her box. Lord Needley glanced her way, but at her reassuring smile, he returned his attention to the stage.
She waited for another moment and then slipped through the curtain behind her into the dimly lit hallway. Lord Nathaniel immediately grabbed her hand and led her quickly down the hall and around the corner, where he pulled her into a small alcove almost hidden from anyone who might be out in the hallways.
“What is this little corner you have discovered? I have the distinct impression I am not the first to have been escorted here in the dark of an opera.” She raised her eyebrow in question, a teasing smile on her face. She swallowed. Hopefully they would not be discovered.
He ignored her insinuation. Holding up the flier again, he said, “Explain.”
She sighed. “Surely you do not think that I drew—”
“No, I do not. It is not in any way similar to the other. But you do know something about it.”
“I do. I am quite ashamed of my own involvement actually.” She looked down. “I was trying to distract a shop full of customers to look my way while Molly picked up our package. One of the ladies present thought up this story, and I listened. I had not thought of our ramblings ever leaving that room in such a way. I promise I never would have—”
“But what is this supposed to represent? Who are these women?”
Suddenly self-conscious, Amanda forced herself to meet his gaze. “The dinner at the Hadley’s last month. The lady in the shop sat across from you. She claimed to have witnessed you giving, ah, attention to these women. I shed a bit of doubt on the story, and Miss Clarissa came to your defense. But as I was leaving, I noticed a man who appeared to have been intently listening, and I discovered he was none other than Peter Hamilton.” Nathaniel frowned deeper at her. She continued. “You must believe me. I had no way of knowing something like this would ever happen because of a harmless story.”
“Harmless? You think this image harmless?”
“Well, no, but I didn’t expect it to become an image.”
“Every word we speak paints an image in the minds of those who hear it. Her story damaged me from the moment it left her lips, and it will continue to do so with each retelling.”
“But, it is an image you perpetuate. Are you not pleased to have painted yourself as the biggest rake in all of London?”
He shook his head at her. “Not like this.”
She felt about as tall as the bottom step on her front stoop. She reached for the page again. “I should have come stronger to your defense. I don’t know how to fix this. I am terribly sorry. Perhaps it would help if you, ah, settled down for a few months with someone.”
His loud whisper sounded almost raspy in its strength. “I am trying to court you. If you would just cooperate for an hour’s time, we could maybe progress a small amount.”
Amanda blushed deeply. Pleased, she couldn’t slow her heart or stop the fluttering in her stomach. So he did still wish to court her. Perhaps substance existed behind all of his effective flirting.
But why did he make things so difficult? Her eyes narrowed slightly. Then she retorted, “Are you trying to court me? Because all you seem to do is rescue me. When is the last time you paid me a visit? Or had a pleasant conversation with me? Or even took a turn with me on the dance floor?” She folded her arms with a challenging look in her eye.
He cleared his throat. “Would you enjoy that, my lady?”
His eyes sparkled at her. Was he teasing her? He searched her face earnestly, and she remembered he had asked her a question.
“I would, yes.” Her eyes followed the line of his jaw, lingered on his lips, and then found his eyes.
“Magnificent. It just so happens that I would like to talk about this further. May I call on you tomorrow, take you for a ride in the phaeton through the park?”
He stepped closer, and suddenly she became aware of the smallness of their hiding place. His lips were eye level, his face only inches from her own. If she tipped her head up a little more and looked into his eyes, her lips would be ready for his. She forced that thought away, blushing. She looked down, finding his boots.
Lord Nathaniel put his finger under her chin and lifted her face so she was looking straight into his eyes. They were smiling at her. He ran his hands down her arms, trailing gooseflesh wherever they touched, and took both of her hands in his own. “Until tomorrow then?”
She nodded. Oh, could this really be happening? He leaned closer, her heart fearful and expectant at once. His gaze, intent, searched her own. She closed her eyes, and he brushed his lips against her cheek. Still deliciously close to her face, he rested his hand at her other cheek. She opened her eyes again as his eyes devoured her features, lingering on her lips, and then with the puff of a sigh, he stepped back. With a wink, he held her hand and led her away from their alcove.
Her emotions swirled around inside. Did all women succumb to him like she had wanted to? Her thoughts flitted by so quickly she could not hold on to one long enough to form a coherent train. The one clear, solid emotion that outlasted the rest filled her. Yearning. She wanted more. Whoever Lord Nathaniel turned out to be at his core, she wanted more.
Was he as affected as she? He walked so quickly, they almost ran down the hallway. Without another word he delivered her to her box.
Lord Needley turned when she arrived, saw her standing at the back of the box against the curtain. Although he raised his eyebrows, he said nothing about her absence and continued viewing the second act.
Amanda returned to her seat, her hand touching the side of her face where Lord Nathaniel’s lips had left their invisible mark. Surely he felt something for her. The sincerity in his eyes could not be fabricated, could it? She relived the moment when his lips touched her skin. Oh, that it had been her mouth. How she had willed it to be so. The man drove her to distraction.
Her thoughts changed direction to the subject of their tête-à-tête. The stage blurred as she tried to make sense of it all. Peter Hamilton had been listening and had recreated the story onto fliers! She clenched her fists. The more she thought about it, the more ashamed she felt. She should have steered the conversation in a different direction.
Then without warning, the humor struck her. The silly and exaggerated reaction to the picture of Lord Nathaniel from this year’s debutantes came to her mind, all those women falling all over him. She raised her hand to her mouth, shaking in an effort to stifle her laughter. Serves him right. He certainly would not die from over-attention. If he didn’t wish to be misunderstood, he should not walk about pretending to be a rake.