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Authors: Jessica Jefferson
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“Lord Sutherland, would you and your friend care to join us in our box?”
No!
Derek took a step back. “Yes of course—my friend. Where are my manners? This is my cousin, Lord McCalistair. He’s visiting from Scotland for the Season.”
The man next to him stepped forward and bowed. “Hello,” he said with a prominent brogue.
Meredith wanted to argue, to riot against his claim of kinship to the Scot. Derek had no cousins to speak of that she could recall. She’d heard rumors of his titled relation, but not for one moment had she actually believed any of it. She wanted to call his bluff, to declare this man in the finely tailored jacket, claiming to be an Earl, a farce. Yet here was this other man with a strong resemblance to the Weston family and an undeniable brogue. It was hard to refute living evidence, especially when that evidence was tall, handsome, and so very Scottish.
“Will you be staying in London for long, Lord Sutherland?” Ophelia asked boldly, feminine discretion completely lost on her.
“Now that my company has its office here in London, I plan to at least stay until it’s fully up and running.”
“You’re the only Earl I know who fancies himself a businessman,” Mr. Marshall remarked snidely.
The peacocks were preening for their audience.
Derek cast him a sideways glance. “I’ve been devoted to King’s Ransom Transports since long before I inherited the title. I’m afraid it’s become like a child to me. I can’t very well give it up now.”
“I find it refreshing that you’re not content to simply rest on your laurels as others in your position often do. It’s respectable how involved you are with your work.” Ophelia’s defense of the Earl earned her an approving nod from her mother and a leering eyebrow from her brother.
Lady Marshall was beaming, basking in the glow of attention the Earl was paying her daughter. “You and Lord McCalistair will have to join us for dinner soon. But for now, I must insist you accompany us back to our box.”
“Of course,” Derek declared, taking Lady Marshall’s arm and guiding her back toward the theatre. “I’m sure I speak for us both when I tell you that we’d be honored.” Lord McCalistair took Ophelia’s arm and Garrett stood expectantly next to Meredith.
She hesitated, her head reeling from the events unfolding before her.
Derek stopped unexpectedly and turned back to her. “Miss Castle, are you certain you’ll be all right? I’d hate for you to swoon again.”
She’d never felt so close to resorting to physical violence in her life.
Meredith returned to her seat, an onslaught of emotions tumbling over her with such force that she felt physically beaten down. There were so many unanswered questions. How had her simple, land-locked Derek managed to become a titled seaman? And why would he ever return to London—to her city, during her Season?
She’d expected him to grow old before his years, to lose his hair, to be hobbled by a life of hard labor from years spent toiling away on a farm. Yet here he was, looking every bit the rake, oozing charm and virility, leaving her mouth dry and pulse racing.
And when she finally returned to her senses and turned to her left, she found the Earl of Sutherland in the seat next to her—just as the second act was beginning.
Chapter 10
Meredith tried to focus on the magnificent score accompanying the night’s performance. Ever since she’d been a little girl, she’d possessed a great love for music. She’d sung just as soon as she could talk, and by the age of five, she’d begun teaching herself the pianoforte.
Though she could hardly be considered an aficionado, she thoroughly enjoyed opera. Under normal circumstances, she’d be enthralled by the night’s entertainment.
But these were most definitely not normal circumstances.
And it was not the performance that commanded her attention, but rather the presence of the man sitting to her left—which irked her
No!
Derek took a step back. “Yes of course—my friend. Where are my manners? This is my cousin, Lord McCalistair. He’s visiting from Scotland for the Season.”
The man next to him stepped forward and bowed. “Hello,” he said with a prominent brogue.
Meredith wanted to argue, to riot against his claim of kinship to the Scot. Derek had no cousins to speak of that she could recall. She’d heard rumors of his titled relation, but not for one moment had she actually believed any of it. She wanted to call his bluff, to declare this man in the finely tailored jacket, claiming to be an Earl, a farce. Yet here was this other man with a strong resemblance to the Weston family and an undeniable brogue. It was hard to refute living evidence, especially when that evidence was tall, handsome, and so very Scottish.
“Will you be staying in London for long, Lord Sutherland?” Ophelia asked boldly, feminine discretion completely lost on her.
“Now that my company has its office here in London, I plan to at least stay until it’s fully up and running.”
“You’re the only Earl I know who fancies himself a businessman,” Mr. Marshall remarked snidely.
The peacocks were preening for their audience.
Derek cast him a sideways glance. “I’ve been devoted to King’s Ransom Transports since long before I inherited the title. I’m afraid it’s become like a child to me. I can’t very well give it up now.”
“I find it refreshing that you’re not content to simply rest on your laurels as others in your position often do. It’s respectable how involved you are with your work.” Ophelia’s defense of the Earl earned her an approving nod from her mother and a leering eyebrow from her brother.
Lady Marshall was beaming, basking in the glow of attention the Earl was paying her daughter. “You and Lord McCalistair will have to join us for dinner soon. But for now, I must insist you accompany us back to our box.”
“Of course,” Derek declared, taking Lady Marshall’s arm and guiding her back toward the theatre. “I’m sure I speak for us both when I tell you that we’d be honored.” Lord McCalistair took Ophelia’s arm and Garrett stood expectantly next to Meredith.
She hesitated, her head reeling from the events unfolding before her.
Derek stopped unexpectedly and turned back to her. “Miss Castle, are you certain you’ll be all right? I’d hate for you to swoon again.”
She’d never felt so close to resorting to physical violence in her life.
Meredith returned to her seat, an onslaught of emotions tumbling over her with such force that she felt physically beaten down. There were so many unanswered questions. How had her simple, land-locked Derek managed to become a titled seaman? And why would he ever return to London—to her city, during her Season?
She’d expected him to grow old before his years, to lose his hair, to be hobbled by a life of hard labor from years spent toiling away on a farm. Yet here he was, looking every bit the rake, oozing charm and virility, leaving her mouth dry and pulse racing.
And when she finally returned to her senses and turned to her left, she found the Earl of Sutherland in the seat next to her—just as the second act was beginning.
Chapter 10
Meredith tried to focus on the magnificent score accompanying the night’s performance. Ever since she’d been a little girl, she’d possessed a great love for music. She’d sung just as soon as she could talk, and by the age of five, she’d begun teaching herself the pianoforte.
Though she could hardly be considered an aficionado, she thoroughly enjoyed opera. Under normal circumstances, she’d be enthralled by the night’s entertainment.
But these were most definitely not normal circumstances.
And it was not the performance that commanded her attention, but rather the presence of the man sitting to her left—which irked her
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