THE FORBIDDEN LORD by Sabrina Jeffries

Author:Sabrina Jeffries [Jeffries, Sabrina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2012-01-24T02:39:32+00:00

Chapter 12

Going to the opera, like getting drunk, is a sin that

carries its own punishment with it.

Hannah More, English writer, reformer, philanthropist,

Letter, 1775, to her sister, The Letters of Hannah More

Emily had never attended an opera. Willow Crossing had an ancient orchestra that played at assemblies, and a traveling troupe of actors that sometimes presented Shakespeare. But no operas, to be sure.

The Marriage of Figaro, by Mozart, was entirely beyond her ken. Thankfully, although it was an Italian opera, this production was in English. Not only could she understand the story, but she was enjoying it beyond anything, drooling over the music like the country fool she truly was. The voices rang so clear, so perfect! The orchestra actually knew all their notes, even the high ones!

Her enjoyment was enhanced by the fact that Lord St. Clair had shown no signs of having learned any dark secrets about her that afternoon. When he’d come in behaving like his usual self, she’d relaxed, especially since he’d come without Jordan. Perhaps everything would be fine after all.

Perhaps Jordan would be satisfied with proving to himself that he’d been right about her identity. For the first time since the Merrington’s ball, she felt free to enjoy herself.

The character named Cherubino, a woman playing the part of an adolescent boy, launched into an aria, and Emily strained forward. How could such lush sounds emerge from such a tiny woman? Emily’s musical abilities were tolerable at best, but she did love to listen. By the end of the second act, she’d smiled so much her face hurt.

The chandelier with its hundreds of candles was lowered for the interlude, and Lady Dundee rose from her seat. “I see that Lady Merrington is here tonight. I believe I’ll go speak to her.”

“I’ll join you,” Lord St. Clair said as he also rose. “These chairs aren’t made for men with long legs.” He held out his arm to Emily. “Are you coming, Lady Emma?”

The soft, elegant strains of a violin wafted up to their box, and she sighed with pleasure. “Would you mind very much if I stayed here and listened to the music?”

Lord St. Clair chuckled. “It’s just the interlude.”

“Yes, but it’s beautiful, don’t you think?”

Lady Dundee cast her an indulgent smile. “Indeed it is, my dear. Come along, St. Clair. Let her have her fun.”

Emily smiled gratefully, then returned her attention once more to the stage, where the musicians were playing a duet for violin and harp. She so loved the harp. The schoolteacher in Willow Crossing owned a harp, but it wasn’t as pure or sweet as this one. There were advantages to living in the city. She would miss this.

Faintly, she heard the door open behind her and assumed that Lady Dundee had come back for something she’d left behind. Then a husky male voice said, “Good evening, Emily.”

She froze. Jordan. He was here.

Her pulse raced and her heart fluttered. Oh, foolish, foolish heart—to be enamored of such a man.

She heard rather than saw him advance to the front of the box.

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