The Duke Heist (The Wild Wynchesters #1) - Erica Ridley Page 0,105
would contain all new caricatures mocking her and the man she loved on the morrow.
Could she do it? Dare she do it?
She glanced at the clock. Scarcely an hour remained before the opera was set to begin. If Chloe meant to have a future built on love, the time to act was now.
And a Wynchester never said no to adventure.
She hurried to her wardrobes. If she was going to go through with this, she would do it right. A duchess would be memorable; she would speak her mind, she would stick out, and she would stand up for herself and everyone else who could not advocate for themselves.
And if she was wrong about Lawrence, wrong about what this invitation meant, wrong about how things would turn out if she risked all of herself so publicly…
…she would do it anyway.
By now the theatre was beginning to fill with spectators. Chloe dressed as quickly and as carefully as she was able. Lawrence would already be perched high up in his lonely tower, waiting to see if there would be any answer to his overture.
As she made the trip to the theatre, Chloe’s knees shook and her heart banged against her constricted chest.
This was no rehearsal, like those she and her siblings acted out before embarking on something wild and new.
She did not have Jacob and Graham flanking her, or Elizabeth with her sword stick, or Tommy as their indomitable Great-Aunt Wynchester.
Chloe would have to do this by herself, for herself.
She swept into the King’s Theatre with her chin held high. She knew the architectural plan by memory after countless visits with Bean and later with Marjorie. The Faircliffe box had been infamous even back then. The old duke had been the owner, but it was his young son who spent every performance there alone, his eyes never straying from the stage.
Tonight, Chloe came for Lawrence, but had come as herself. She was no highborn lady bred to be a living copy of the latest Parisian fashion plate. She was Chloe Wynchester, whose tastes were far more eclectic.
She was wearing her favorite slippers, her favorite stockings, her favorite shift, her favorite gown, and her favorite shawl. These were also her favorite earrings, her favorite necklace, her favorite bonnet, her favorite brooch. That none of it matched did not matter in the least. These items were comfortable and bright and unmissable. They made her happy.
If the caricaturists made light of her ensemble, she would just wear it again.
This time, everyone would remember her.
Was Lawrence ready for such a statement? She did not know. But accepting her meant accepting all of her. She was tired of hiding behind pseudonyms and bland clothing. She was ready to be Chloe.
Even if it meant going home alone, at least she would have been brave enough to ignore the laughter and be herself.
It was a quarter to eight when she reached the private boxes. All of the chandeliers were lit. Her arrival would be visible to every spectator in the house.
She strode into the Faircliffe box as though she belonged there.
Lawrence was waiting. His eyes widened when he saw her. And then a slow, disbelieving smile curved his lips until his dimple shone.
“You wore my bonnet.” He was grinning now, the arrogant beast.
“I have questionable taste,” she informed him pertly.
There was no need to tell him that if her theme was “All of My Favorite Things,” she had no choice but to wear his bonnet.
Flashes of light sparkled in the audience as opera glasses tilted in their direction. Their words would not be overheard, but every thread and every gesture would be gossip fodder for weeks on end.
“I was foolish,” he said. “I reacted out of fear and a misplaced sense of duty.”
She raised her brows. “Can duty be misplaced?”
“I didn’t think so.” His words were slow but certain. “Now I know better.”
“You’re still a duke,” she reminded him. “You still have a hall of portraits of all the dukes who came before you, and you still enjoy a reputation of being just like them. Don’t throw it away on me unless you’re certain. Think carefully and go after what you really want.”
“I did. I am. I want it all.” His crystal-blue gaze did not leave hers. “I want you.”
“You want to go back to how things were?”
“No. I want to go with you into our future, hand in hand.” He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry I lashed out at you. I let others’ opinions outweigh my own.”