false smile on his face for the other guests, in case one of them glanced at him. How long that state lasted, he couldn’t have said.
However, his mother’s voice eventually drew his attention, and he instantly decided the best thing to do was to tell her he was going home. After all, he had talked to Georgiana as she wished. Surely, she would understand he needed some time to let the information he had just learned sink in.
Unfortunately, he quickly found his hope for some time to himself was not to be. She was standing next to the Viscountess Burford and Miss Rutherford, having an animated conversation with them.
Still, Walter decided he might make the attempt. All he had to do was get his mother alone. “Mother, I was hoping…”
“Ah, there you are,” she interrupted him with a smile. “Come, join us.”
“Actually, I—”
“I am glad you came over. I was beginning to think you had forgotten about me,” Miss Rutherford said, batting her eyelashes at him.
Walter wanted to sigh with vexation. He knew she was simply ensuring she had his attention after seeing him seated next to another young lady. He forced himself to smile politely.
“Of course, I did not forget you, Miss Rutherford,” he replied as courteously as he could, but even he could tell his words lacked some of the charm he usually laid on when talking to her.
“Well, now, what were we discussing before you arrived?” Sylvia said, trying to reclaim the reins of the conversation before he said something else.
“I believe the conversation had just turned to the theater,” Miss Rutherford replied, her eyes remaining on Walter, as if in clear invitation to ask her to the theater.
However, her mother continued the conversation, much to his relief. “Oh, I was about to mention … there is going to be a new performance at the Haymarket Theatre in a few days’ time. Everyone is all abuzz about it.”
“Yes, I believe I have heard about it, but I’m not sure I haven’t seen it in the past. Isn’t it by Mozart? I am afraid I didn’t catch the title; I know he wrote more than one,” Sylvia replied.
“Yes, that is true! This one is Così Fan Tutte … such a favorite. You simply must come and see it with us. We have a box at the Haymarket, of course.”
“I should like that. We must arrange a date to attend.”
“You know, Mother,” Miss Rutherford interrupted. “I doubt Henry and Charles have any intention of going with us to see it… In fact, all my brothers may well try to find some excuse to avoid coming. There will be plenty of room in our box for our friends to join us.”
The viscountess quickly took the hint. “Of course, my dear, that is what I meant to say.” She turned to Walter and his mother. “Yes, you simply must join us in our box.”
Walter opened his mouth to reply with a courteous refusal, but his mother spoke before he could make a sound. “We would love to join you. Watching such a performance is always so much more enjoyable in a box among friends. Don’t you agree, Walter?”
There was clearly no way of politely getting out of it. Part of him felt torn, but he could do no more than nod politely. The response seemed to satisfy the others, who then talked more about the opera.
Walter found he could hardly concentrate on the conversation, as they talked of who would be attending, who would be singing which part, and other trivial matter.
His mind had been thrown off-kilter by his conversation with Georgiana. Now, he found himself less inclined than ever to court Miss Rutherford, despite having had every intention only an hour before of taking their relationship to the next level, even planning to make a real effort to enjoy her company.
Fortunately, the conversation did not last much longer. Sylvia could tell something was the matter with him and, since she wanted the young Miss Rutherford to see only his best side, she excused them both without much delay.
“Well, it is settled then. In three days, we shall see you at the Haymarket. If you will excuse us for just a moment, there is someone else must talk to while we are here,”
Walter willingly let his mother take his arm and lead him away, knowing she was likely about to scold him. Instead of anger, he was surprised to see disappointment on her face. “Mother, I—”