As if Anna had summoned her cousin with her thoughts, Alicia appeared on the landing at the top of the stairs. Her face was flushed, and her chest heaved with labored breaths. She started as she caught Anna’s eye.
Her cousin’s skin had taken on a golden tone from her time in Italy, and it suited her. She had only returned to London a few months ago for the operatic season, currently dressed in a lavish white and red gown, not yet changed into her costume.
“Heavens, you’re all here. And there are so many of you!” Alicia exclaimed through a laugh, catching her breath. She nodded at Anna’s friends, whom she had met before.
“But of course, I’m glad to see you—so glad for the support. Anna…” She sighed in relief, extending a hand for her cousin to take. “We must catch up after the show. There is so much that I…” She stammered, looking behind her. “Well, there will be time for that later. I will leave you to find your box. I hope you enjoy your evening.”
Anna furrowed her brow in confusion as her cousin raced down the stairs. Surely it wasn’t usual for theSeconda Donnato be visiting the boxes moments before the opera began. Anna hesitated as the usher continued his ascent and her group followed after him.
Had Alicia been looking for someone in particular? Why had she seemed so upset? Her cousin was distressed, late for her performance. What could possibly have happened?
“Anna?” came Margaret’s voice. Looking up, Anna noticed that the rest of the girls had disappeared with Lady Jane. “What’s wrong?”
It was rare for Anna to listen to her gut. In fact, she had trained herself to repress most of her instincts to please her father. But in the case of Alicia, whom she admired and loved more than anyone, she felt compelled to follow after her, no matter what rules she might break by doing so.
“I need a moment,” she said, pushing past other patrons down the stairs before Margaret could stop her. “Tell Lady Jane that I retired to the ladies’ room to fix my hair or something like that.”
It was a paltry lie, and Anna didn’t like telling it.
But I must find Alicia and figure out what is wrong.
CHAPTER3
“We’ve attracted no small number of interested looks so far tonight,” George said from beside Philip as they wound up the stairs to their box at The King’s Theatre that evening. “And bywe,I mean you, Colonel. Your popularity seems to have soared after your time abroad—despite the scar.
“From your letters, Ifigured you would return to England looking like the Barguest itself. But in truth, the scar is doing you a service. I fancy the women of London see it as a testament to your patriotism.”
“I shall endeavor to take that as a compliment. But what the devil is a Barguest?” Philip asked, struggling to keep up with his friends.
The climb irritated his ribs. He could perform most daily tasks without trouble, but stairs and slopes were deadly.
George laughed, his freckled face brightening with a smile. “A monstrous hound of legend that stalks the Dales. My old nurse used to tell us stories of the creature when we misbehaved, saying it would snatch us from our beds in the night if we didn’t harken to her orders.”
“More Yorkshire nonsense,” Simon chimed in, turning to look over his shoulder as he led the way forward. “I can scarcely understand a word you say anymore, Georgie. That new northern drawl of yours is an affront to my ears. And besides, the onlybar guestsI’m interested in are the sorts we’ll find at the club later. Well-fed and over-watered drowsy hounds, looking to risk it all over a round of Faro. Hmph… Would that we had skipped the culture altogether and gone directly to White’s.”
Philip remained neutral in their fight, enjoying the innocent ribbing between his two friends. They had met in front of the opera house and conversed for a while ahead of the show, directing their respective footmen to head inside without them. Philip hadn’t known what to expect from their reunion, especially now that they were a man down for good. But reuniting with George and Simon had been like putting on a well-loved pair of boots—they fitted without question.
“You don’t sound much different to me,” Philip said to George while Simon was distracted with their usher. “But you’ve been spending time in Yorkshire? Are your family not from Somerset?”
George shrugged one shoulder. “My uncle’s eldest married a lord from York and consigned us all to spend the summer there.”
Philip nodded. “And the marriage business? Have you made any progress?”
A laugh caught in George’s throat. “You haven’t changed, discussing love and marriage with as much cold fervor as you discuss business. No… I am still as hapless in love as I ever was. But I’m hopeful for this Season. Now that I am the Baron of Walford, perhaps my chances will improve.”
His happy expression faltered. Philip chose not to press him further on the matter.
Simon whistled suddenly to get their attention, pointing to their advancing usher. As they walked down the shared corridor to their box, Philip watched Simon flash a dazzling smile at a few passing young women and their chaperones. George seemed to know them. Their charmed expressions fell in quick succession as their gazes flitted from George to Simon, before finally landing on Philip.
Four pretty young faces colored with shock.
Was it his appearance or his new title that commanded the fear in their eyes?
He could swear he heard them whisper amongst themselves as they left. “Don’t be silly, Helena… The Duke of Wells… different now… not smiling… and that scar… The war carved something into him…”
Philip smiled in secret. They were honest, little things if nothing else.
The Stockton box was well situated, providing a good view of the stage while being far enough away from the chaos of the upper galleries to enjoy the show in peace. Philip settled in his seat while George gave him an overview of the opera they would be watching. But he was barely listening.
