Rowan was across the room, but she was not discreet by any means, and he furrowed his brow as he heard them gossip about Alice.
“You know she cannot even afford to do anything except make her own clothes. It is tragic,” her friend whispered.
He could not listen to it anymore. He walked over to the two and leaned down to their height. “Excuse me, ladies. It is terribly unkind and unsophisticated to speak of a lady in such a manner. You should be ashamed.”
They fell silent, and their eyes widened as something caught their eyes behind him. When he turned around, his jaw almost dropped open.
Alice came out of the fitting room, wearing a perfectly tailored deep blue gown, hugging her curves in all of the best ways and accentuating her features. “What do you think?”
“I think we will take it.”
“Oh, there are more. If you think?—”
“We do not need to look at any more gowns, Miss Snow. You look absolutely exquisite. Just put all of them on my account.” He watched her blush and lower her head, smiling, and pulled out his notes to pay the modiste for the dress.
The ladies in the shop fell silent as they watched Alice get so blatantly spoiled by the Duke, and he felt boastful, knowing that she was the most beautiful woman in the entire shop.
Probably the entire city, the way her hips are being held by that skirt…
They thanked the shopkeeper and made their way back to the carriage and to the theater just in time to meet the businessmen outside.
All of the most affluent men in London were in one place, and they had invited Rowan to join them. His father would be proud.
* * *
“Miss Snow, I am glad to see you could accompany His Grace tonight. Have you seen this play?” A bushy-mustached man grinned at her.
She shook her head, and he began to rave about how he had seen it several times since they started performing in the city.
She looked at Rowan, who gave her a sympathetic look as they walked inside and got their tickets, the entire theater buzzing with excitement. Eventually, Alice and Rowan both had a moment of silence, and they fell behind the group, smiling.
“They do talk more than I would have expected from a group of old gentlemen.”
“Indeed. How many times must you see Macbeth, and how many times must you tell me?” Alice giggled.
“Despite their character, I have you to thank for my being here today. These men believe that having the Diamond on my arm puts me closer to the Queen, so thank you for indulging me,” Rowan said quietly, stopping her in the quiet hallway to the private boxes.
“Oh, it is all your business expertise, Your Grace. I am simply a beautiful face to add to the allure,” she joked. As she went to turn and find the group, she felt the Duke grip her wrist, pulling her close, through a thick pocket of curtains to the closed-off viewing box. “Your Grace, what are you doing?”
“I cannot get enough of you,” he whispered against her neck, sending a shiver down her spine. He planted several kisses on her skin, stopping in the middle of her chest. “Especially in this gown. You are irresistible.”
“The gentlemen will notice we are missing soon…” she breathed quietly, her head tipping back as he cupped her breast with his large hand, massaging gently as his lips ran across her neck and along her jaw.
He chuckled against her skin as she had an uncontrollable buck of her hips, and he pulled away, satisfied at the puddle of pleasure he had turned her into.
“It should be starting soon,” he said simply, grasping her arm and pulling her back into the dimly lit hall.
As they found their seats, his fingers trailed across her skin, sending a pulse to her core. It seemed intentional at this point, the looks that he shared with her, or the small touches, like now, as he taunted her while still being obscured from prying eyes.
She was unsure she would make it through the entire play at this rate.
* * *
The play was boring beyond measure to Rowan, and he was pretty sure he fell asleep several times because Alice would periodically tap him on the shoulder to draw his attention.
They all discussed the social aspects of the writing and acting, something Rowan did not care much for, when he heard a familiar laugh. He turned on the stairs to see his mother walking alone, laughing with strangers. When she turned to watch her step, she saw him, and her face lit up.
“Rowan, my boy. How are you?”
