LADY ROTHBURG'S ADVICE
by
Emma Wildes
The vestibule was full, well-dressed people milling like jeweled birds in their finery, which was exactly what she'd counted upon. Brianna Northfield let her husband slip her cloak from her shoulders and deliberately kept her back toward him, smiling and nodding at several acquaintances in the throng.
This was the first step in her plan, and she certainly hoped it worked, for she felt half-naked.
Colton took her arm, his gaze thankfully intent on scanning the crowd for a way to proceed toward their private box. "This way, my dear. I think we can squeeze through over by where the Earl of Braden is standing."
"That young woman with him is not someone I know," she murmured, noting the beautiful young lady's fiery hair and lush figure. "Good heavens, he must be old enough to be her father."
"His latest mistress, I believe," her husband said coolly. "I'm sure they are here at the opera together simply to annoy his wife. Discretion has never been Braden's long suit."
The note of disapproval in her husband's voice did not escape her, but at least it wasn't directed at her. That is, not yet. Colton Northfield, the fifth Duke of Rolthven, did not believe in public displays of one's private life. She had learned that much in three months of marriage.
If he had a mistress, he would certainly not bring her out and flaunt the affair in front of all of fashionable London society. She simply prayed he didn't have a mistress, nor did she want him to ever feel he required one.
His grip on her arm was polite, the pressure light as he guided her toward the elegant carpeted stairs that led up to the gilded box which overlooked center stage. Heads turned as they passed, friends giving greetings, and Brianna noticed more than one gentlemen let their gaze linger on her and several raised brows among the ladies.
Fine. That was exactly what she wanted.
She felt it the moment Colton noticed her gown. They were halfway up the stairs and he faltered, almost stopping, his fingers tightening. "Good God, what are you wearing?"
"Should you really be halting on the stairs, staring so pointedly at my bosom?" she asked with a calm she didn't particularly feel, taking another determined step. "This is Madame Ellen's latest creation, and the neckline is a little daring, yes, but I am assured I have the proper figure to pull it off."
Her husband didn't move for a moment, his glittering gaze still intent on the ivory flesh that swelled above the material of her bodice, the entire upper curves exposed. "You certainly can carry it off, but perhaps you should have asked yourself if you should carry it off. Or better yet, ask me."
"People are staring, Colton, wondering if we are actually arguing in public."
Uttering a low curse, he responded by almost dragging her up the rest of the way, his long fingers around her wrist as he ushered her down the hallway and into the balcony with their private seats. His expression was hard to read, but his mouth was tight as he seated her and took the next chair. "I suppose since we are here, wrapping you in your cloak and carrying you outside might be noticed," he said sardonically. "Though I imagine more opera glasses will be directed toward your breasts on such lavish display this evening rather than at the stage. Whatever possessed you, Madame, to choose such an outrageous gown?"
Because I want to seduce you. She gazed at him. He was as devastatingly attractive as ever this evening, even with a frown on his handsome face, and the sensual line of his mouth compressed in reproof. Tall, with thick chestnut hair, and a lean, athletic build, on one of those rare occasions that Colton smiled, every woman in the room felt a little flushed. With as much composure as possible, Brianna answered, "There are many ladies in attendance this evening attired in gowns every bit as fashionably low-cut as mine. I thought you would like it."
"Like having every man in London ogle your bare bosom?" His brows lifted, but his gaze strayed downward again.
"No," she answered, a flicker of hope stirring, because though he sounded annoyed, he couldn't seem to stop staring. "I thought you might like the way I look in this gown."
For a moment he looked surprised, his blue eyes narrowing a fraction. "You are stunningly beautiful, Brianna, and I always admire the way you look, my dear. Why do you think I married you?"
That wasn't what she wanted to hear. Shaking out her fan, Brianna said furiously, "I hope you didn't wed me, your Grace, simply to have as an ornament on your arm at functions such as this one. I am a person, and a woman, and your wife."
Looking uncharacteristically disconcerted, Colton said, "Perhaps that wasn't well put. I meant you are always attractive to me, you do not have to be half-naked for me to think so."
"Then prove it."
"I beg your pardon?"
The orchestra stirred then, beginning the tedious business of tuning their instruments, the dissonant sounds wafting up from the pit below. Raising her voice so he could hear the words, not caring about the boxes all around them, Brianna said clearly, "Tonight, I want you to prove to me that you find me wildly attractive."
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