much difference to the guests. Everyone there already treated him as if he had the plague—he could hardly make that worse.
Nonetheless, he stayed to the bitter end, probably because he wanted to spend every possible minute with his sister. A lump settled in Regina’s throat as she watched him and Louisa say their good-byes. His abiding love for his sister was one redeeming characteristic of the dreaded dragon.
But as soon as they’d entered the carriage, Marcus’s belligerent manner returned. He kept his brooding gaze on her while Cicely fidgeted and Simon talked about the evening.
When Simon took a breath, Marcus finally spoke. “I was considering the opera for our next engagement, Lady Regina.” He added tellingly, “Since you’re so fond of music.”
She tensed, not only because of his veiled reference to their aborted duet, but because he threw out the statement as if it were a challenge. Only she wasn’t sure exactly what the challenge was.
“Did you have a particular opera and theater in mind?” she asked.
His eyes narrowed on her. “I thought we might attend the Italian Opera House in Haymarket tomorrow night. It’s Mr. Naldi’s benefit performance in Le Nozze di Figaro. I hear he’s spectacular.” He inclined his head toward Simon. “Your brother and Miss Tremaine are welcome to join us, of course. Louisa has already said she’d like to go.”
“You have a box at the opera?” Cicely’s shocked tone was vaguely insulting.
Marcus’s eyes glittered. “No, but Iversley has kindly offered me his.” He glanced over at Simon. “Unless Foxmoor has one he would rather we use—”
“Feel free to use mine if you like,” Simon said, “but I’ll have to bow out. I promised…er…a friend that I would attend his dinner tomorrow evening.”
Regina caught her breath. She’d forgotten that Prinny had invited them both to Carlton House. And since the dinner had been discussed earlier at tonight’s soiree, Marcus couldn’t help but know where Simon meant to go.
A bitter half smile touched the viscount’s lips. “Ah, of course. And Lady Regina will be going with you.”
So that was the source of his belligerence. He thought she planned to renege on their bargain now.
“I would rather go to the opera,” she put in, peeved that he could think her so easily discouraged.
Skepticism showed in his features. “Tomorrow night. With me.”
“Why not? Cicely and I both love the opera.”
“But my lady, the prince—” Cicely began.
“Will understand,” she finished. Or at least she prayed he would.
Marcus’s gaze locked with hers, and a change came over his face that sent a delicious shiver along her nerves. His eyes smoldered with wanton promises, reminding her of their time in Lord Iversley’s study. When his hot gaze dropped to her mouth, she quickly averted her own gaze.
Lord, what had she agreed to? An opera box could be very intimate even with other people there, especially when the lights went down. She swallowed, nearly changing her mind, but she was no coward.
“Speaking of music,” Simon put in, “what did you think of Miss Tremaine’s harp-playing, Regina?”
“Oh, I didn’t hear it.” Too late she remembered why she’d missed that performance. “I…er…was…well…”
“I was showing her Iversley’s study,” Marcus put in.
Her gaze shot to him, but his expression was dark and unreadable in the dimness of the carriage lamps. Panic assailed her. Did he mean to ruin her, the fool? If he even hinted what the two of them had been doing—
“Iversley has quite an extensive collection of books that Regina wanted to see,” Marcus went on, flashing her a faint smile, “so I gave her the grand tour.”
Regina released her breath. Thank heaven the man had some sense.
Cicely had stiffened next to her, but Simon merely snorted. “Regina wanted to see books? I can’t imagine that. I’ve never even seen her crack a book open.”
“Haven’t you?” Marcus
Nonetheless, he stayed to the bitter end, probably because he wanted to spend every possible minute with his sister. A lump settled in Regina’s throat as she watched him and Louisa say their good-byes. His abiding love for his sister was one redeeming characteristic of the dreaded dragon.
But as soon as they’d entered the carriage, Marcus’s belligerent manner returned. He kept his brooding gaze on her while Cicely fidgeted and Simon talked about the evening.
When Simon took a breath, Marcus finally spoke. “I was considering the opera for our next engagement, Lady Regina.” He added tellingly, “Since you’re so fond of music.”
She tensed, not only because of his veiled reference to their aborted duet, but because he threw out the statement as if it were a challenge. Only she wasn’t sure exactly what the challenge was.
“Did you have a particular opera and theater in mind?” she asked.
His eyes narrowed on her. “I thought we might attend the Italian Opera House in Haymarket tomorrow night. It’s Mr. Naldi’s benefit performance in Le Nozze di Figaro. I hear he’s spectacular.” He inclined his head toward Simon. “Your brother and Miss Tremaine are welcome to join us, of course. Louisa has already said she’d like to go.”
“You have a box at the opera?” Cicely’s shocked tone was vaguely insulting.
Marcus’s eyes glittered. “No, but Iversley has kindly offered me his.” He glanced over at Simon. “Unless Foxmoor has one he would rather we use—”
“Feel free to use mine if you like,” Simon said, “but I’ll have to bow out. I promised…er…a friend that I would attend his dinner tomorrow evening.”
Regina caught her breath. She’d forgotten that Prinny had invited them both to Carlton House. And since the dinner had been discussed earlier at tonight’s soiree, Marcus couldn’t help but know where Simon meant to go.
A bitter half smile touched the viscount’s lips. “Ah, of course. And Lady Regina will be going with you.”
So that was the source of his belligerence. He thought she planned to renege on their bargain now.
“I would rather go to the opera,” she put in, peeved that he could think her so easily discouraged.
Skepticism showed in his features. “Tomorrow night. With me.”
“Why not? Cicely and I both love the opera.”
“But my lady, the prince—” Cicely began.
“Will understand,” she finished. Or at least she prayed he would.
Marcus’s gaze locked with hers, and a change came over his face that sent a delicious shiver along her nerves. His eyes smoldered with wanton promises, reminding her of their time in Lord Iversley’s study. When his hot gaze dropped to her mouth, she quickly averted her own gaze.
Lord, what had she agreed to? An opera box could be very intimate even with other people there, especially when the lights went down. She swallowed, nearly changing her mind, but she was no coward.
“Speaking of music,” Simon put in, “what did you think of Miss Tremaine’s harp-playing, Regina?”
“Oh, I didn’t hear it.” Too late she remembered why she’d missed that performance. “I…er…was…well…”
“I was showing her Iversley’s study,” Marcus put in.
Her gaze shot to him, but his expression was dark and unreadable in the dimness of the carriage lamps. Panic assailed her. Did he mean to ruin her, the fool? If he even hinted what the two of them had been doing—
“Iversley has quite an extensive collection of books that Regina wanted to see,” Marcus went on, flashing her a faint smile, “so I gave her the grand tour.”
Regina released her breath. Thank heaven the man had some sense.
Cicely had stiffened next to her, but Simon merely snorted. “Regina wanted to see books? I can’t imagine that. I’ve never even seen her crack a book open.”
“Haven’t you?” Marcus
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