“Shall we?” He offered his arm to Lady Whitmore, and Mr, James did the same with her companion.
As they entered the main assembly room, the crowd parted and applause sounded.
Leonard found himself on the stage with Lady Whitmore, the adulation from the people very real for the fine woman standing at his side. Once the noise settled, she stepped forward.
“Thank you all for attending the art exhibition. I am proud to say that every piece sold. As you know, Whitmore is sui generis, there is no other place like it in England. We welcome all, great and small, accomplished or not, in hope that everyone can find happiness in an era of turbulence and war.”
The crowd broke into applause again.
Lady Whitmore raised her hand to silence them.
“We certainly welcome new friends.” She turned to the duke. “I believe His Grace, the Duke of Vexen, will have a substantial role in the future of Whitmore.”
Leonard smiled, only a bit uncomfortable with the attention. If it were London, he would have walked off the stage. He truly disliked attention of any kind, but for some reason, this felt right.
“And now, Sir Roger will happily announce our winners. Please join us for dinner, after.”
Once his prizes were announced, including the sculpture that reminded him of Sarah when he first met her and three paintings, he joined Lady Whitmore, her companion, and Mr. James again.
“You see,” Lady Whitmore said, “it was well worth coming here, was it not?” She moved aside, giving Leonard a clear view of the entrance to the assembly rooms.
Dressed in a gown the shimmering color of moonlight, her hair swept up, revealing lovely shoulders and a neck meant for kissing, Sarah, elegant and almost understated, stepped into the room. A diamond and gold necklace adorned her throat, and Leonard’s heart thundered with desire—perilous and uncontainable. His hand actually shook with need as he let his arms fall to his sides, his penetrating gaze undressing her layer by layer.
Mr. James tapped him on the back and whispered, “Your intentions are showing, sir.”
Perhaps he should just rip his heart out now and offer it to her. For no matter what he did at this point, he wanted her.
***
Unfortunately, Sarah did not have the pleasure of being seated next to the Duke of Vexen at dinner. However, he was within sight and did not hide his interest in her, nor look away whenever their gazes met.
She had been placed between a young lord, the Earl of Trenton, and an elderly widow, Lady Billows. The conversation, just as the food, was pleasant and diverting.
“Your singing capabilities have been praised by many here this evening, Miss Sarah,” the earl said to her, not hiding his attraction but doing so within the boundaries of respectability. “If your voice is as lovely as you are, I am sure you will be a marvelous success.”
Sarah smiled and sipped her wine, already nervous. Her performance was only two hours away, and the butterflies in her stomach only increased. “I could not say, my lord, but hope my devotion to training with Signor Arcadi will be rewarded with his approval tonight.”
“What a charming young woman you are,” Lady Billows said. “Showing confidence in your accomplishments is not considered vanity, my dear.”
Sarah turned to her with a smile. “Thank you, Lady Billows. Are you fond of music?”
“I am a patron of the arts, much like our esteemed guest of honor, the Duke of Vexen. Not to mention Lady Whitmore’s dedication to charitable events is unmatched from here to London.”
“You are close friends with our hostess, then?” Sarah asked.
“I am indeed. We are old friends, used to spend summers together…” She suddenly stopped herself. “You must excuse me. I have said too much already.”
“Too much?”
“Of course the rules would be unknown to you, this is your first event at Whitmore, is it not?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Those invited to the events are permitted to use their full names,” the earl said, drawing her attention back to him. “But Lady Whitmore’s students, whether highborn or not, are to remain anonymous. That is why we haven’t questioned you about your name or family.”
“I knew this, but did not think it extended to the guests quite so severely.”
“How else would our hostess reach such levels of respectability and success?” Lady Billows asked. “All of the ton are not welcome here, as some would never be able to keep quiet about what goes on. Even the gossip sheets have failed to infiltrate Whitmore.”
Sarah swallowed down her building concern that her family, the duke, or possibly even one of the guests present would deduce who she was and why she had come here. Reaching for a dessert fork, she tasted the lemon tart, which melted in her mouth. She had been careful to eat only tiny portions so she would not be incapable of performing. Too much food and wine could definitely affect her voice.
“How many events have you attended here, Lady Billows?”
“Twenty or so, I believe. Most are not as elaborate as this, but just as enjoyable.”
“And you, sir?”
“This is my third year to support Lady Whitmore’s mission.”
“Mission?” Sarah asked, surprised by his choice of words.
“Yes, mission is the perfect word for what she intends,” the earl said. “To provide a means for people often forgotten to find a way to support themselves. It is not a unique idea, but her approach to accomplishing it is.”
“I am humbled by your support for Lady Whitmore and your enthusiasm to help underprivileged women.”
He shrugged. “I have three sisters, Miss Sarah—one of them close in age to you, I believe. If she were ever to…” He quickly took up his wine glass and swallowed it down, appearing to grow uncomfortable.
“I did not mean to unsettle you, my lord.”
“You didn’t. I’m afraid I have a soft spot for my siblings, each of them strong-willed and independent. Johanna, the eldest, is just eighteen. Miriam is sixteen, and Regina, thirteen.”
“Do you have siblings, Miss Sarah?” he asked.
“I am afraid I cannot answer questions of such a personal nature.”
“You see,” Lady Billows said with an approving tone, “you are learning quickly.”
“Were you testing me, sir?”
The earl met her gaze. “In a way. But you intrigue me, Miss Sarah, I will not lie. Perhaps I may call on you when you are next in London.”
Lady Billows gave a feminine cough. “My dear, you mustn’t prey upon the young lady right before her performance!”
“My intentions are honorable,” he said to Lady Billows, then reached for Sarah’s hand and patted it.
She gaped at him for a moment, then gently withdrew her hand, shocked that she wasn’t offended by his public gesture of affection. Only…
She gazed in the direction of the Duke of Vexen, finding his green eyes intently watching her, his expression severe.
Lady Billows leaned close to her. “You seem to have two very serious admirers, my dear. Tread carefully, for both of these men are powerful, influential, and wealthy. Do not trifle with either one. And if neither appeal to you, make it known right away. A good reputation is the most important thing any young lady has.”