“Do you enjoy it?” Kenneth suddenly asked, his warm breath fanning against her cold cheeks.
“Oh, yes, I adored it,” she lied through her teeth.
Her narrowed his eyes at her. “You fidget a lot for someone who claims to enjoy the opera,” he said. “Admit it, you do not like it.”
Something in his tone made her drop her guard. With a sheepish smile, she leaned forward and whispered in his ear, “I find the opera rather tedious. A good book would capture my interest far more.”
To her surprise, Kenneth chuckled softly. “I couldn’t agree more. In fact, I suggested the opera so we’d be seen together rather than anything else. But given how dark it is now… how about we escape? I am famished, and I think the refreshments room might provide us with more entertainment.”
Intrigued by the unexpected proposition, Joanna nodded, and Kenneth rose. He motioned for her to follow and, with a glance toward her maid, spoke, “Lady Joanna is overheated. I am accompanying her to take the air, you need not accompany us.”
Hazel settled back in her seat, allowing Kenneth to lead Joanna through the empty theater corridors. The ambient noise of hushed conversations and the distant melodies from the stage gradually faded as they stepped into a quieter part of the opera house.
“I must admit, I never understood the appeal of these grand productions,” Kenneth admitted. “My mother claims that I lack all sense of the arts.”
“As does mine,” Joanna said with a laugh as they made their way to the refreshments room. “And my sisters think me a bore because I prefer to read while eating sweetmeats and drinking tea.”
“That sounds like an ideal way to spend an evening,” Kenneth agreed, his eyes sparkling.
As they walked, she noted how the candlelight made his hair appear slightly red, and the stubble on his face—unfashionably full—likewise had a reddish hue.
He was undeniably handsome, and his aversion to the opera made her like him even more. It was almost a shame that their entire relationship was a lie.
“Here we are—as promised, devoid of people,” he said as they stepped into another room.
The room was adorned with lavish decorations, and a table at the center displayed an array of delicacies, including the candied treats that had evidently caught Kenneth’s attention.
Kenneth’s eyes lit up as he spotted the candied lemon peels. “Ah, these are absolutely delightful!” He held up one and waved it as if presenting something magnificent while Joanna’s lips turned down.
“No, never. I cannot stand candied orange peels, and I bet these are far worse.”
Kenneth’s eyebrows rose. “Come now, Joanna. Do you mean to tell me that you never ate a candied lemon peel?”
“Never, and I do not intend to start now,” she huffed and took a step back to distance herself from the horrid-looking sweet.
“Now, how can you be so judgmental of something you’ve never eaten? Try, you will like it. It is nothing like an orange peel,” Kenneth coaxed as he rounded the table.
Joanna crossed her arms, a playful glint in her eyes. This exchange was amusing, and she must admit that she liked how he teased her. “I am by no means judgmental,” she said.
He laughed. “May I remind you of our first meeting? I dare say you were a little judgmental.”
She pursed her lips and shook her head, a stray curl bouncing across her face. “I was quite right in my assessment of you, then, for Jenkins told me you apologized to him. This tells me that you knew you were wrong. And I dare say, you are wrong again now, regarding this monstrosity in your hand.”
“You might have been right then, but I assure you that you are missing out on something delicious. A shame that your refined taste in books isn’t reflected in your taste in food.”
Joanna gasped, wondering if she should be offended. It would be rude if a gentleman spoke in such a way to a lady under normal circumstances. However, these were not normal circumstances,and she liked how carefree he was, how he showed her who he was, without wearing the sort of mask men usually wore when courting. Thus, she decided to play along.
“By Jove, Kenneth. I assure you that I have a refined taste. I simply prefer other delights, like marzipan, for example.”
Kenneth arched an eyebrow. “Marzipan? Now, that evokes dreadful memories. I had it but once when I visited my Scottish grandmother, and I hated it instantly.”
“Pray, how can you judge something based on having had it once as a child?” she challenged, and he tilted his head to the side. “And how can you judge something you’ve never tasted based on having eaten something similar yet vastly different?” He crossed his arms and tapped his foot in what she interpreted as a playful manner.
Joanna’s lips curled into a sly smile. “Well, Your Grace, it seems we have the makings of a challenge, seeing how we each like what the other dislikes. How about this? We try the sweets we despise, and whoever manages to eat it without pulling a face or spitting it out gets to decide our next activity.”
Kenneth chuckled and pursed his lips, and Joanna knew he already had something in mind. “Agreed, Lady Joanna. Let the challenge begin.”
Thus, each took a piece of the sweet they detested—candied lemon peel for Joanna and marzipan for Kenneth.
