“The dancing takes place on the gentlemen’s side because it has the mezzanine for the musicians. Over here is where people mingle and take refreshment,” Evie explained.
Tables ladened with food and drink beckoned the guests, and footmen carried trays of champagne. Music began to filter through the doorways—a waltz.
“Waltzing is allowed here?” Sabrina asked.
“Many things are allowed here that would not be elsewhere,” Evie said with a triumphant nod. “You must come on Tuesday evening, for that is the one night each week when the female members are allowed to enter the gentlemen’s side.”
“And when are they invited to this side?”
Evie laughed. “Never. Other than assemblies, when only the ballroom and garden are available to them, they are firmly excluded. It’s only fitting since there are so many places we may not go.”
Sabrina could find no fault with that argument. Scanning the room, she looked for people she knew and realized there weren’t very many. But then, she scarcely knew anyone really. Instead of feeling eager to make acquaintances and show everyone that she was not the meek countess they might remember—or perhaps, more accurately, who they didn’t recall at all—she found herself thinking about her appointment later. Why had Constantine requested it?
Alas, the curiosity was bound to nibble at her all evening while she played the role that she’d accepted nearly two years ago. She gave her head a shake and told herself to focus on being the countess she needed to be. One who the Duke of Evesham would allow to sponsor his daughter. She realized she didn’t see Cassandra there, but then she wasn’t a member, and apparently couldn’t be since she wasn’t married.
“Perhaps you can explain who is here tonight,” Sabrina said. “Only members?”
“Mostly, but you’ll see plenty of young ladies on the Marriage Mart here. If one’s sponsor is a member, they may attend the assemblies. We’ve also recently expanded the rules as to who may come to include family of members.”
“Then my sister-in-law should be here, should she not?”
“She attended last week. However, it is my understanding that the duke does not want her to come to every assembly. In fact, I think he has said that last Friday was the only one she could attend.” Evie grimaced. “He’s so dictatorial, but then I suppose you know that.”
“Yes,” Sabrina murmured. “If I’m able to become her sponsor, I will try to persuade His Grace that she be allowed to come. This seems a far better place to meet someone than Almack’s.” Her shoulders twitched as she recalled the one time she’d visited that most auspicious place. She hadn’t relaxed during the entire evening and had been more than grateful that her impending betrothal had prevented a second ordeal.
“I do hope that will come to pass.” Evie looked about the room. “I keep trying to think of a suitable groom for Lady Cassandra, but so far I haven’t discovered anyone who I think will keep her interest. Perhaps more importantly, I can’t think of anyone who wants to take on the duke as a father-in-law.” She flashed Sabrina a look of admiration. “You are quite the brave soul.”
Laughter erupted from Sabrina with such force that she had to clap her hand over her mouth. “Not at all. The man terrifies me still and probably always will. I’ve always thought of him as the man who coldly arranged my marriage.”
Evie gave her a look of sympathy. “I do hope you and Aldington will be able to find some measure of happiness.”
“Until you introduced me to the possibility of a pleasing…physical relationship, I only wanted to have an amiable marriage—and a child.”
“And now you want more?”
“I think I do.” The thoughtful husband who gave her gifts and took drastic measures to improve the sexual nature of their marriage was someone she wanted. As desperately as she wanted a child, she desired her husband. “But I don’t know if Aldington does.”
“I don’t think he would be meeting with a tutor for help if he didn’t want something…more.” Evie smiled encouragingly.
How Sabrina hoped her friend was right.
Because Sabrina had not known she would be playing the part of the tutor this evening, she was wearing far more clothing than the night before—she’d dressed for a ball, not seduction. But then, last night’s meeting hadn’t required her to be dressed, or not dressed, in any particular way. She rather assumed that tonight would be the same, but Evie convinced her to don a scarlet dressing gown she’d procured. Even though Aldington wouldn’t see the garment, and it was likely unnecessary, the fitted gown helped Sabrina transition from elegant countess to tempting former courtesan.
As with last time, she waited in the chamber next to the one where Constantine was located. A knock on the door, just like the previous night, told her it was time. That he was ready.
Taking a deep breath, Sabrina stepped into the dim corridor. She knew Lucien was somewhere nearby, ensuring that no one happened upon them, particularly while she moved between rooms.
She hurried into Constantine’s chamber, barely opening the door before slipping inside. The interior was even darker than the corridor had been, with only the single candle burning on the mantel.
Constantine stood where he had last night, near the bedpost, his eyes covered with a dark blindfold. She wished she could see his eyes for they were quite lovely with their long lashes and captivating hazel color. However, with them masked, the rest of his features commanded her attention. Despite the near darkness, she could make out the aquiline slope of his nose, as well as his lips, especially the lush, full lower one. She’d stared at it last night, wondering what it would be like to take it between her teeth.
“Good evening,” she said, employing the Welsh lilt she’d used before and cutting herself off before she called him “my lord.” It was difficult to remember she wasn’t supposed to know his identity.
“Thank you for seeing me again.” His voice seemed different too, lower and rougher. Arousing.
“I was surprised you asked. And so soon.”
He took a step toward her. “I needed to see you. To…talk.”
She watched his hands flex and his chest rise and fall with rapid breaths. Last night, he’d discarded his coat and boots. Tonight, he’d only removed his coat.
“Is that all you wish to do? Talk?”
It took him a long minute to answer, and when he did, he sounded strained. “Yes.”
Constantine raked his hand through the front of his hair, tousling the light brown waves over his forehead. It made him look reckless. She liked it, then wondered if she might like it more if she’d been the one to do it. Oh, she was feeling quite audacious this evening.
She liked the sensation. She felt…powerful. Or as if she could be.
“I don’t know how to begin with my wife.” He pivoted toward the bed and reached out to grip the post. That had helped to steady him last night—she was sure of it. And that knowledge had filled her with a joyful satisfaction. She’d pushed him to the edge, and he’d stepped off it into wild abandon.
He continued, “She invited me to visit her bed later tonight, but I don’t know what she actually wants. There is so much I don’t understand about her.” There was an agony in his tone that tore at her chest. “I wish she hadn’t hidden herself from me.”