Midnight Temptations With a Forbidden Lord (17 page)

There was always the possibility that he’d figured out a solution to her conundrum since he had plans to meet with her this evening. And wouldn’t that be fabulous? She needed a miracle now.

*   *   *

Tristan stood behind the curtain on the stage. Both he and Hayden were frequent visitors to the opera house; a friend managed the theater and had given Tristan access to areas not seen by the outside world—not unless an admirer was invited to visit after the performance.

Lady Charlotte sat in the Carleton box tonight; she was too far away for him to make out the color of her gown, but he thought it a deep burgundy with black lace overlay. Onyx beads adorned her bosom and a strip of black velvet was wrapped enticingly around her throat. Her hair wasn’t done in the usual style; loose curls were pinned up and away from her heart-shaped face and braided back in an elaborate arrangement. Her skin was porcelain white, and her lips were stained with a red pigment. She was definitely a vision of the perfect woman. And he couldn’t wait to steal her away from the rest of her company.

He could have taken a seat in his own box, but had thought it too bold considering his plans for the evening. He did not want anyone to know he was here, though surely Lady Charlotte had realized this by now. She looked to her lap as Lady Carleton spoke to her; she seemed unhappy about whatever they were discussing. Soon enough her gaze flickered over the rest of the audience in the opera house.

Was it possible she was searching for him? He had to admit there was a certain amount of satisfaction in thinking she preferred his company to that of all other men.

She stared at her lap again, a quizzical look on her face. Without a doubt, she was reading the note he’d had an usher give to her when she’d been shown into the box. The instructions were detailed but simple. All that remained was for her to follow through with his plan.

He fell back into the shadows behind the stage and made his way past the dressing rooms and through the hallway that the singers and dancers primarily used. There was a wide network of tunnels beneath the stage and the seating in the theater, leading out to street level. The interconnecting passageways were used chiefly by the staff and opera singers to get from one side of the theater to another without detection. And now they would serve to aid him in stealing away his lady.

He paused on that thought. She wasn’t precisely
his
lady, but she had become important to him over the short time he’d known her. It was odd that a friendship had formed so quickly between them.

Or perhaps not.

Lady Charlotte was an intriguing and intelligent young woman … More importantly, though, he enjoyed being in her company, whether to steal a kiss or simply play a game of chess.

When the music stopped, he counted out the minutes for everyone to exit their boxes and seats, waiting patiently.

He stared through the decorative grill that covered a portion of the wall just under the box seating. A small latch was level with his elbow on the inside, and the hinges were well oiled so he could exit without revealing the secret passage. He would only need a few seconds to succeed in his planned game.

Pulling out his watch, he checked the time. Intermission was nearly over … and then he heard her distinctive laugh, delayed behind the rest of the patrons returning to their boxes—she was following his instructions to a T. He grinned and counted each step she took toward the stairs going up to her box.

“I can’t believe I didn’t do this sooner,” Lady Charlotte said to her cousin and Lady Carleton. “I need to make use of the retiring room. Go on up without me; I won’t be overlong.”

She didn’t give them the opportunity to tell her no, and made her way down the stairs and then along the empty corridor toward the retiring room.

“Hurry back to us,” Lady Carleton said as she took Genny’s arm and led her chaperone back into the private box. Her tone seemed almost conspiratorial. Did she suspect Lady Charlotte was seeking out an admirer?

On the heels of that thought his body tensed—had he been discovered? And which was he … an admirer or a friend? He’d worry about those details later. Right now, he had a lady to steal away, and he moved into action.

Turning up the latch, he pushed the screen out that covered the hidden passage and reached for Lady Charlotte before she could wander farther away from him. He was quick to place his bare hand over her mouth and said in a low voice meant only for her, “It’s me,” so she didn’t cry out in fright and give his presence away. Not that anyone aside from a few ushers down the hall would take notice.

When he had Lady Charlotte safely ensconced in the servants’ walkway, he released her, turned her about while holding both her upper arms, and pressed a finger to her lips to bid her to hold her tongue. With a motion of his head, he led her along the tunnel that would take them to the dressing rooms, though they wouldn’t be going so far as that. Once they reached the belly of the theater he turned her around to face him once again.

Her eyes were bright with mischief, her smile secretive.

He tore his gaze away from the temptation of her lips. “We don’t have much time,” he said. “But I wanted to see you once more before you were off to Hertfordshire.”

“You did?”

“We had an agreement, my lady, and I would not renege on it.”

His reassurance had her visibly relaxing and at ease. “Have you come up with a plan, then?”

He put his hands out, indicating the dim tunnels around them. “You are in the midst of it. What will everyone say when you arrive back at the box late?”

“I simply said I would freshen up in the retiring room.”

“Yes, but you managed to come unescorted. How do you suppose that will look to all those in the audience that keep tipping their opera glasses in your direction?”

“That’s a good point.” She brushed away a loose tendril of hair from her brow. “So I’m to create a stir in the gossip columns with my mysterious disappearance for all of fifteen minutes?”

“My dear, dear lady. This is only the start of you stepping out of line in society.” He rubbed his hand down the length of her arm. “We will take it slowly.”

“I don’t have time to take this slowly, Castleigh. Come to think on it, I’m surprised Genny didn’t escort me.” She chewed worriedly on her lower lip.

He stepped closer, wanting to touch her. “She’s probably regretting that choice right now.”

“No doubt. And should she come looking for me, and I’m not where I’m supposed to be … Well, hell hath no fury like my cousin deceived.” She ran her fingers along the wall as she walked deeper into the tunnel. “Where does this lead?”

“To the dressing rooms.”

She turned back to him, giving him a shrewd look. “We could be caught together in a dressing room.”

“I can promise you that no one of importance would take note of it. I thought we had already discussed this?” He pointedly adjusted his cravat. “I also recall telling you that I liked my head attached to my neck.”

She sighed and stepped closer to him once again. “Breaking a few rules here and there simply won’t work. It won’t be enough to end my engagement.”

She rubbed her fingers over the lapel of his jacket, stopping mid-waist before leaning her face closer to his. If he stole a kiss, would it rekindle the fire that had burned so deep in them only a few days ago? Would she pull away from him this time? He decided he would wait her out, have her initiate the kiss once again.

“I think you should ruin me,” she whispered close to his mouth.

She didn’t know what she was truly asking for. Perhaps he hadn’t heard her right.

Her gaze dropped to his lips and then turned back up to meet his eyes. Her pupils were dilated and it wasn’t simply because of the dim light. “My father won’t call you out.”

He gave a slight shake of his head. Charlotte underestimated the lengths to which a man like her father would go to obtain what he wanted—he was ruthless in all his dealings.

“If you were my daughter—and thank God you are not—I would call out any man that dared to lay so much as a finger on you.”

She inched closer. The press of her skirts against his shins and the heat of her body were a welcome intimacy. His body tightened with anticipation, with a need so strong to pull her against him that it took everything he had to hold back.

“Are you thinking of touching me?” she asked in a husky voice that nearly undid him.

He slid the tips of his fingers over her jawline until they reached the soft point of her chin. Her head was tilted up, her lips parted in invitation.

“The things I imagine doing to you…”

She pressed her lips together and swallowed. “I think it’s very hard for you to resist ruining me.”

“No man could resist your charms for long, my lady.”

“Except you,” she had the audacity to point out.

His eyes narrowed. Was she goading him into making the first move? She had less than ten minutes to find her way back to her seat. A lot could happen in ten minutes. A kiss could happen, a whole conversation could happen … He could press her against the wall, hike her skirts up around her thighs as she locked her ankles around his back …

When he did nothing more than stare at her, she let out a sigh and looked away from him. “Stealing me away tonight won’t be enough to stop my wedding.”

“This meeting wasn’t intended to stop your nuptials. I wanted to see you again before you left to rusticate in the countryside.”

She gasped and her attention snapped back to him. He could no longer wait for her to make the first move. There was no sense in delaying a pleasure they both wanted.

He bloody well wanted her but didn’t know how he would ever be able to keep her without her father putting an end to it. Drunk on his own thoughts of desire and need, he stole her next breath with a kiss, and wrapped his arm around her, placing the flat of his hand to the small of her back. He walked her back a few steps until she was pressed to the brick wall. Her lips were just as soft as he remembered, her tongue shy as his explored her mouth. The tentative thrust of her tongue against his had all the blood in his body rushing south.

Oh, he wanted more. He wanted complete possession of her.

One of her hands wormed its way beneath his starched cravat, and the other hand squeezed his upper arm as she pressed deeply into the kiss—allowing herself to be consumed by the fervor that seized them.

What was he doing kissing Lady Charlotte in the dark of the theater? What did he intend for their future and that of Mr. Warren?

He released her mouth and turned his head aside. One of his hands was wrapped around her back, the other rested on the wall next to her head. The only sound to be heard was their heavy breathing.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I thought that much was obvious.” His voice was sardonic.

Pushing off the wall, he summoned the strength to take a step away from her. He stared at her in the dark, trying to make out the puzzlement in her expression. She didn’t move; she just stared at him as though she didn’t know precisely what to say.

“Say something,” he said in a more placating tone.

“I don’t understand you, nor do your actions shed any light on your intentions. You confound me, sir.”

Tristan scratched his head and blew out a stream of air. Hell, he himself couldn’t figure out his intentions. “You’ll be leaving for three weeks. I wanted to see you. I can only come up with one solution where you’re concerned.”

“Marriage,” she whispered, and looked away from him.

“Can you think of a better alternative?”

She shook her head, never breaking her gaze from his. “I need to think on it even though it is the most logical solution. I never wanted to marry in the first place. So why should I say yes to you? It’s all so sudden.”

Her words stung his pride. Was it so difficult to contemplate marriage with him? “Have you got another plan up your sleeve that you aren’t sharing with me?”

“If I did, I’d certainly not be as worried about my predicament as I have been.” She stepped away from the wall, a frown creasing her forehead. “I don’t know how to respond to your offer. It’s generous, but extreme.”

“Say no more.” Tristan took her hand and led her back through the tunnels in the direction of the private box she occupied. Was she purposely unmanning him? Or worse … perhaps she only saw him as a means to an end. Did she care so little for him despite their similarities?

Now he had to question his sanity in coming here in the first place. When they stopped at the small door that opened to the stairs leading to her box, he turned her to face him.

“Write to me while you are gone.” His request sounded like a plea to his own ears.

“I cannot refuse the opportunity.” She pressed her hand over his upper arm. “We’ll have to be circumspect.”

“I assume your lady’s maid travels with you.”

She nodded.

“Is she trustworthy?”

“Yes,” she said, barely above a whisper.

After a pregnant pause, he said, “Think on my offer.”

Not being able to withstand another no, he opened the latch, ushered her out of the small passageway, and closed it before anyone noticed his presence.

A handful of questions bombarded him the second she was gone. Had he made a mistake in seeing Lady Charlotte tonight? Would she refuse his offer of help if he could think of nothing other than marriage? Would she cut him off after he’d been so bold with her tonight?