Who Wants to Marry a Duke - Sabrina Jeffries Page 0,9
Garden, I imagine. Or my club.” He tapped his finger on his chin. “Is Vauxhall still open? I wonder if those fellows who bought it might let me have a go at the tightrope. I’ve only had one glass of wine—I might manage it.”
She rolled her eyes. “You should be the one writing those plays, you know.”
He tensed. “What plays?”
“The ones by your German friend, Mr. Jahnke. The first, I think, was The Adventures of a German Gentleman Loose in London.”
“First of all, it’s Juncker, not Jahnke,” he said irritably. “And second, there’s no mention in the title of his character Felix being German. It’s A Foreign Gentleman, not A German Gentleman.”
She eyed him closely. “I hardly think it matters whether Felix is German or foreign. All I’m saying is you’d make the adventures more exciting.”
Thorn couldn’t decide if she was baiting him. Had she guessed that his poet friend, Konrad Juncker, was standing in for Thorn himself? “According to Juncker, the adventures please the audience well enough to make him wealthy. The original work has run off and on for years, and the subsequent plays have . . .” When Gwyn started to smile, he caught himself. “I merely think them fine as they are.”
“Well, of course you do. You’re loyal to your friend. Personally, I only enjoy those scenes with Lady Grasping and her hapless daughter, Lady Slyboots.” She grinned. “I do like their shenanigans. They always make me laugh.”
“Me too.”
He hadn’t intended to keep the comic characters once his anger at Miss Norley’s refusal had waned. But now the two had become an integral part of the works. Vickerman, the manager at the Parthenon Theater, which had produced all of Juncker’s plays, had insisted that Grasping and Slyboots appear in every new one.
Gwyn was still watching him. “I sometimes forget you’re the only member of the family—other than Mama, of course—who actually enjoys the theater. Now that she’s out of mourning, have you taken her to see the Juncker plays? I daresay she’d like them a great deal.”
“Not yet. I’ve been busy.” And he didn’t want to risk Mother noticing the turns of phrase that might show his hand. She was often more clever than his siblings gave her credit for. If anyone could find him out, it would be her. Or Gwyn.
“Yes, I can guess what you’ve been busy doing.” Gwyn scanned the ballroom. “Speaking of busy, I should return to my guests. You may be my favorite, but you’re not my only.” She wagged her finger at him. “Don’t forget—you must dance with the lady of my choice. I’ll be back soon to introduce you.”
He stifled a groan. Gwyn would pair him with a wall-flower for certain. She had no idea about his preferences in women. He lost sight of her as she marched across the room, but within moments another woman caught his attention.
It couldn’t be. But it was. He would recognize that face anywhere.
It was her.
After all these years without so much as a moment’s encounter between them, Miss Olivia Norley—or whatever her name was these days—had the audacity to show up here at his twin’s home, where she had no right to be. Well, Thorn meant to inform the chit of that fact. Right before he had her removed from the ballroom.
He motioned to a footman, but got no further before he spotted her companion, a woman equally attractive but not nearly as devious: his new sister-in-law, Grey’s wife Beatrice, the Duchess of Greycourt.
Miss Norley and Beatrice were in league together? What the devil was going on?
He watched as they drifted across the room, coming closer to him by the moment. Fortunately, Beatrice was stopped every few feet by some acquaintance, and that gave him a chance to assess the changes time had wrought on Miss Norley.
There weren’t many. She’d be about twenty-seven now, yet she still had the youthful appearance of a woman who’d borne no children. She wore her blond hair almost exactly as she had years ago, but her gown in a brilliant Pomona green skimmed her form more lovingly than a husband, a testament to how fashions had changed.
So had he. After his encounter with her, he hadn’t looked at women in quite the same way. Now he always hunted for their hidden purpose before he indulged. And he’d indulged a great deal, thanks to the gossip Lady Norley had spread, about how her daughter had refused him because of his wild ways.