Chapter 9.3 (Part 2)

851 63 1
                                    

   Behind Sophia sat Lord Bullock and Mr. Watson, invited by Felix to act as squires for Sophia and Maribella respectively. Neither was particularly interested in the opera, yet both had accepted the invitations with alacrity. Now, they sat, yawning politely behind their hands, waiting for the moment when the curtain would fall and they could be seen by the other attending members of the ton, escorting their exquisite charges through the corridors.

   Maribella, too, was fidgety, settling and resettling her pink silk skirts and dropping her fav. She appeared to be trying to scab he boxes in the tier above. Felix smiles. He could have told her that Henry Byron hated opera and had yet to be seen within the portals of Covent Garden.

   Lady Hillsborough, dragon-like in puce velvet, sat determinedly following the aria. Distracted by Maribella's antics, she turned to speak in a sharp whisper, whereat Maribella grudgingly subsided, a dissatisfied frown marring her delightful visage.

   At the opposite end of the box sat Francis, with Emma by the parapet beside him. She was enthralled by the performance, hanging on every note that escaped the throat of the soprano performing the lead. Francis, most improperly holding her hand, evinced not the slightest interest in the buxom singer but gazed solely at Emma, a peculiar smile hovering about his lips. Inwardly, Felix sighed. He just hoped his brother knew what he was about.

   The aria ended and the curtain came down. As the applause died, the large flambeaux which lit the pit were brought fort and re-installed in their brackets. Noise erupted around them as everyone talked at once.

   Felix leaned forward to speak by Margaret's ear. "Come. Let's stroll."

   She turned to him in surprise and he smiled. "That's what going to the opera is about, my dear. To see and be seen. Despite appearances, the most important performances takes place in the corridors of Convent Garden, not on the stage."

   "Of course," she returned, standing and shaking out her skirts. "How very provincial of me not to realize." Her eyes twinkled. "How kind of you, dear guardian, to attend so assiduously to our education."

   Felix took her hand and tucked it into his arm. As they paused to allow the others to precede them, he bent to whisper in her ear, "On the contrary; sweet Maggie. While I'm determined to see your education completed, my interest is entirely selfie."

   The wicked look which danced in his dark blue eyes made Margaret blush. But she was becoming used to the highly improper conversations she seemed to have with her guardian. "Oh?" she replied, attempting to look innocent and not entirely succeeding. "Won't I derive any benefit from my new-found knowledge?"

   They were alone in the box, hidden from view of the other boxes by shadows. For a long moment, they were both still, blue eyes locked with grey-green, the rest of the world far distant. Margaret could not breath; the intensity of that blue gaze and the depth of the passion which smouldered within it held her mesmerized. Then, his eyes still on hers, Felix lifted her hand and dropped a kiss on her fingers. "My dear, once you find the key, beyond that particular door lies paradise. Soon, sweet Maggie, very soon, you'll see."

The Duke And His Four WardsWhere stories live. Discover now