Keeping his cool, he shifted in his seat. “I am well aware of my age, Mother. Nevertheless, this is a new courtship, and I intend to get to know Lady Joanna before making any moves. To that end, Lady Joanna and I are to attend the opera together.”
Her eyes lit up. “What wonderful news! A lady who likes the opera… very impressive. She might inspire a love of culture in you yet, heaven knows I have failed.”
Kenneth shuddered, for the truth was that he despised the opera. He’d only suggested taking Joanna there because itfulfilled several of their goals. They’d be seen together, and as a new couple, they’d be talked about and written about. Word would spread that he was no longer available, and Lord Worcester would see that Joanna was unavailable. The added bonus was that they would not have to talk to each other, since it would be dark and loud. Although he had to admit, a part of him wanted to talk to her and learn more about her.
His mother’s voice interrupted his musings. “… will have much to talk about when you bring her to dinner this weekend.”
Kenneth nearly fell out of his chair. Dinner? This weekend? What in the world had she missed?
“I beg your pardon? Did I miss a message from your messenger?”
“Not at all. This is one of the reasons I’ve come to call. I wanted to see how your dinner with her family went. And, seeing that it went well, I would like my turn.”
“Your turn?” Kenneth muttered.
His mother arched an eyebrow. “Kenny, do not act as though you do not know what I mean. Naturally, I will want to meet her.”
Kenneth’s brow furrowed in concern, though he had, of course, known his mother would want to host such a dinner. But so soon?
“Mother, that might be a bit complicated. We are only getting to know one another, and inviting her for dinner may be too much for her?—”
She cut him off with a wave of her hand. “Nonsense, my dear. I insist. I have a feeling she could be the one we’ve been waiting for. Besides, it’s high time you settle down. I’ll leave the details to you, but I expect to meet her this weekend.”
Kenneth groaned inwardly. He’d known that one day, he’d have to introduce Joanna to his mother, but did it have to be quite so soon? He wasn’t ready. Alas, perhaps it was better to get it out of the way. Maybe that way, his mother would stop harassing him, and he could let the rest of this charade play out in peace.
“Very well, Mother. I’ll see what can be arranged.”
The Dowager Duchess departed, leaving Kenneth alone with his conflicting thoughts.
The prospect of a dinner with Joanna brought with it a sense of unease and a dawning realization that his mother’s aspirations for his future might make it uncomfortable for Joanna.
Would she be willing to attend? Would she have the nerves to withstand his mother’s questioning? Or would she end their arrangement under such pressure?
No, he reminded himself. Joanna had told him that she needed their arrangement as much as he did. Thus, for the time being,all he could do was prepare her as best he could, and hope for the best.
CHAPTER 11
Joanna’s taffeta gown rustled most unpleasantly as she settled in her seat in Kenneth’s box. The fact that he even had a box was rather impressive, to begin with. Whenever she went to the opera with her family—on the few occasions she was compelled to do so—they purchased tickets. Only the extremely wealthy or those eager to create that illusion had boxes.
She could see the stage from her seat, concealed by the heavy red velvet curtains. Though she could hear the sound of musicians tuning their instruments behind the confines.
Beside her, Kenneth sat straight, his shoulders pulled back and his chest puffed out. He was, it seemed, eager for the performance to begin. Sometimes, Joanna wished she had an ear for music or at least a love for it. Alas, she did not.
“I heard the performance will be splendid,” Kenneth commented while her chaperone, Hazel, sat behind them.
“Is that so?” Joanna asked, feigning enthusiasm.
“Indeed, the singer came from Italy—a true treat,” he said.
He’d been formal ever since she’d alighted from her carriage and walked with him to the box—but, of course, he had to be. They were in public. Indeed, Joanna could see the people in the boxes surrounding them shooting curious glances their way. Someone even had their binoculars trained on them.
“Wonderful,” she said in reply and leaned back.
Fortunately, the flickering candles that lit the space were soon extinguished, leaving only the light from the grand entrance hall shimmering beneath the doors. Then, the curtains were pulled back, and the performance commenced.
To her dismay, the entire opera was in Italian. Not that it would have been much better if it had been in Latin, a language she understood. No, it would have been dreadful even then, but at least she would have known what was happening. From what she could make out, the opera was a tale of love and tragedy unfolding by ever-increasing octaves.
Midway through the performance, she wished she had a book to read. Not that she could have read in the dark. Perhaps she could sneak out…
