“Leave the man be, Drake,” Knox said. “He doesn’t fancy the lady, not in the way you are implying.”
“Oh, he does.”
Dare cut a chilling look to his cousin. “What islikeanyway? It means horse shite. Whether I like her or not, it changes nothing.”
Drake shrugged. “If it changes nothing, it’s becauseyouchange nothing.”
“Is this how a pot calls a kettle black?”
“I call it as I see it.”
“Then what the devil should I call you as I see you?”
“Me?” Drake crossed one ankle over the other. “You should call me as youdon’tsee me. That is usually a better way.”
“Cousins...” Knox murmured. “This is not the place to bicker like two eleven-year-old boys.”
Right. Dare wasn’t about to bicker with the arse. He planted his gaze firmly back on the box with the vision in blue so that he could dissect every one of Leonora’s small interactions with the duke.
This nonsense with Drake, feeble and fleeting though it was, had turned the already sour taste in his mouth to a bitter one. What did it matter to Drake whether he liked Leonora or not? The one it should matter to was his own self. All these damn feelings belonged to him, not his cousin.
Knox nudged his arm. “Here.”
Dare glanced over and let out a foul curse at the lorgnette being offered. He pushed it away with a scowl. “Now you are mocking me as well?”
“I’m helping you.” Knox grinned. “While entertaining myself.”
Dare rolled his eyes. He didn’t have friends. Not a single one. All he had were pigs masquerading as friends.
“Give it to Drake,” Dare countered evilly. “He might need a better look at the stage with his lack of culture and all.”
“Is this what nobles do to entertain themselves? What godawful play is this anyway?”
“Shakespeare,” Knox said. “As You Like It. Quite interestingly, it does tend to mock those who fall into the trap of love.”
Dare scowled, his eyes never leaving the private box across from him.Mock me if you must. One day he would return the favor.
“Nevertheless, I’m rather enjoying the reminder of why I never venture into your world. Such shallow entertainment.”
Could he kick his cousin from the box? “Then return to your dark little world in Brighton. No one is stopping you.”
“Ah, the intermission,” Knox murmured as he rose to his feet. “Thank Christ.”
Dare sprang to his feet, his gaze lingering one moment longer on Leonora before he balled his hands into fists and strode from the box. He only had one direction in mind—the path that took him toher. He didn’t want or need a lorgnette to see she’d gifted another smile to someone who wasn’t him. No. What he wanted was a look up close to catch with his very eyes the evidence of what he’d known all along.
She was not for him.
She deserved better than him.
She could snatch herself a duke and never think again about him and all they had shared. He’d taken her innocence, couldn’t take more. Could never hope for more. He drew to a halt, finding he had already descended the three flights of stairs that brought him back to the lobby with its sparkling chandeliers hanging overhead.
What are you doing, Dare?He shouldn’t even be here tonight. When last in his life had he attended the theatre? He’d always been a prowler of the night. Now what had he become?
He shouldn’t be here.
Even his feet knew that, for they had brought him here instead of taking him to her.
A high-pitched screech brought a chill to the very heart of him, and Dare knew—for some reason, he just knew—that this did not bode well for him.
