Rhianna had never seen or heard anything like it - the costumes, the actors, the music, the dancing. Even though she couldn't understand the language, she had no trouble following the story of a rich young man in love with a peasant girl.
At intermission, Lord Montroy appeared at their box. He sketched a bow in Rayven's direction, then bowed over Rhianna's hand.
"Good evening, my dear," he said, and she heard the hint of a smile in his voice. "How well you look."
"Thank you."
Montroy dropped into one of the chairs, his long legs stretched negligently before him. "Can't remember the last time I saw Rayven at the opera," he remarked. "You must be a good influence on him."
"I..." She shook her head. "It was Lord Rayven's idea, not mine." A smile lit her face. "But it is wonderful, isn't it?"
"You're enjoying it, then?"
"Oh, yes, it's a wonderful play. I've never seen anything like it."
Rayven sat back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest, as Montroy conversed with Rhianna. His detachment rapidly turned to anger as Montroy began flirting with Rhianna, complimenting her hairstyle, comparing the blue of her eyes to the sapphire necklace she wore. He watched Rhianna's cheeks turn scarlet as she murmured a polite thank you. His hands clenched into tight fists, the mild anger he'd felt quickly turning to fury as she laughed softly at something Montroy said.
"Enough." The word, softly spoken, cut across Montroy's flowery compliments like a knife through butter.
With lazy grace, Montroy stood up, murmuring his farewells as he bent over Rhianna's hand, then turned to Rayven. "Will we see you at Cotyer's later, my lord?"
"No."
Montroy looked at Rayven with what could only be called a smirk. "A foolish question, indeed," he said.
"Good night, my lord."
"Montroy."
Rhianna fanned herself, not daring to meet Rayven's gaze. She had not missed the hint of anger in his voice, though the reason for it eluded her.
She was grateful when the performance resumed.
Rayven had seen the opera many times, and it was Rhianna's face he watched during the last act. As he had suspected, she wept when the heroine killed herself rather than face life without the hero, though why a woman would want a weak-willed man like the hero was quite beyond him.
When the curtain came down, he offered her his handkerchief. "Dry your eyes, sweet Rhianna. It was only make-believe, after all."
"But it was so sad. They loved each other so much."
"Rubbish! If he'd loved her, he would have disobeyed his father and married her instead of shackling himself to a woman he didn't love."
"Yes," Rhianna murmured, "I suppose he would have."
Gaining his feet, Rayven draped her cloak over her shoulders. "Ready?"
With a nod, Rhianna stood up and placed her hand in his. She held her head high as they left the box and made their way outside.
It was a beautiful moonlit night. A bright yellow moon hung low in the sky. She stood beside Rayven, conscious of the people nearby, aware of their curious stares, their whispered words as they speculated on her relationship with Castle Rayven's dark lord.
She was relieved when Bevins arrived with the carriage.
As Rayven helped her inside, she was aware of his hand at her arm. His touch was firm, cool. She settled her skirts around her as he entered the other door and took the seat beside her. There was something vastly intimate about being alone with a man in a closed carriage. Rayven's hard-muscled thigh brushed against hers as he shifted in the seat. The scent of his cologne tinged the air.
He rapped on the roof, and the carriage lurched forward. They drove in silence for several minutes.
Rhianna glanced out the window, admiring the moonlit countryside.
"Montroy finds you quite attractive, my sweet."
Rhianna turned her head to look at him, surprised by his blunt remark. "My lord?"
"Don't play coy with me, girl. I saw the way he looked at you. The way you looked at him."
"I don't know what you mean."
"Don't you?"
Rhianna met his gaze, confused by the carefully banked anger in his eyes, by the hard edge of jealousy in his voice.
"If you have any plans for meeting him on the sly, put them out of your mind."
"My lord, you misjudge me!" Rhianna exclaimed, shocked that he would even think such a thing. "I have no interest in the man."
"No?"
"No."
"Forgive me, sweet Rhianna," he murmured, astonished by his reaction to the thought of her with another man. Never before had be been possessive of the women he brought