Heiress for Hire (Duke's Heiress #1) - Madeline Hunter Page 0,82
was comfortable. “Do you enjoy music? There is a concert at the Argyll Rooms tonight. It is sponsored by the London Philharmonic Society. I thought we would go if you want.”
“I would enjoy that very much.”
He gave the coachman the direction, then slid from his seat over to hers. He gave her a kiss. He then looked around the compartment they shared. He brushed at the slightly worn upholstery on the seat across. “My apologies. This was the best Brigsby could procure. I have been negligent in not buying my own and must attend to that.”
She had not noticed anything amiss with the carriage. “Has Beth been interfering again?”
“I have not spoken to her. What makes you think she is meddling?”
“The concert. The carriage.”
He looked perplexed.
She gave him a little kiss. “Ignore me. I am so used to inquiries that my mind makes them even when unnecessary.”
“Let us forget about them this evening. I spent the day on them and need a respite from all of that.”
“I think that is a splendid idea. Of course, that leaves us with little conversation. I can’t learn about your life without touching on your family, for example.”
“My family did not involve itself in my whole life. Ask away if you are curious about something.”
She decided which of her many questions to pose first. “Was your father in the army? Did you follow him in choosing that life?”
“My father was a scholar. A very good one. He translated ancient Greek literature. He wrote books about it too. I’ll show them to you someday. I was not a scholar. Far from it. Least of all in those topics. All young gentlemen are taught Latin, so I stood for that. He, however, wanted me to learn Greek too, as he had, and that was going too far.”
“Did you join the army to avoid learning ancient Greek?”
“Of course not. I did make it a point to fail miserably at the task, though. Given the chance he would have had me sitting for hours in a library with him, poring over those old texts. I much preferred running and riding and fighting and sport.”
“Fighting?”
“When you dine with Nicholas I will have him tell you about the fights we had, either with each other or as comrades in arms. You will receive an invitation in the morning, by the way. He has not forgotten.”
“I suppose if you enjoyed fighting and riding and sport like fencing, entering the army seemed very natural to you.”
“Not natural so much as inevitable. For the grandson of a duke the acceptable choices are limited. Of them only the army suited me.”
The carriage plunged into a tangle of conveyances when they turned onto Regent Street and approached the Argyll Rooms. Chase pointed out the building. “Nash redesigned it when he altered the path and size of Regent Street here,” he said. “Both the inside and the exterior bear his mark now.”
“Isn’t this where the Cyprian Ball is held?”
“You know about that?”
“Everyone knows about it. Did you ever attend?”
“Most gentlemen about town do at least once. It wasn’t nearly as scandalous as I had hoped.”
“What a disappointment for you.”
The coachman maneuvered their carriage very close to the entrance before he stopped. Chase hopped out and offered his hand to her. Once she alighted he spoke to the coachman, palmed him some coins, and they entered the building.
“I have subscriptions, but we will use the duke’s box,” he said, guiding her up to the salon, then to a door.
“Will he be attending too?”
“He is otherwise occupied tonight.”
The Duke of Hollinburgh possessed a very fine box. One of the best. Below the musicians had already been seated and they plucked at their instruments. A beautiful harpsicord stood to one side on the stage. She took a seat in the second row of chairs, hoping to avoid being on display the way the women in the other boxes were.
He sat beside her without comment on her choice. When an attendant arrived and began lighting the lamps, he told the man to leave them as they were.
“Thank you,” she said. “I am not dressed for the occasion, let alone to sit in a box such as this.”
“I should have been more thoughtful, and given you warning, so you were not uncomfortable. The truth is you look beautiful tonight, Minerva, and the equal to any of the ladies glittering across the way. You always look beautiful.”
The musicians poised themselves to play. The music started. In the dark of that box, feeling