She had decided last night, as she lay sleepless in her bed, that if the Duke should indeed come to call on her this morning—once he had found time to reflect on the social disadvantages of continuing an acquaintance with her, there was every chance, hope, that he might decide not to do so—that she would do everything in her power to ensure they met, and parted, as the polite strangers they were. However, Rupert’s current, and continued, insistence on dismissing all idea of social politeness between them rendered that distance impossible!
Pandora shook her head wearily, gold curls bouncing. ‘You were in the army, I believe?’ she asked.
His scowl deepened at mention of the years he had spent in the army fighting against Napoleon. ‘What does that have to do with anything?’
She smiled slightly. ‘Did those years of conflict not teach you that it is brave to fight the battles that can be won, but sensible, even prudent, to withdraw from the ones that cannot?’
‘No,’ he stated with that now familiar arrogance, those grey eyes hard and uncompromising. ‘I do not consider any battle as being lost before it has even been fought. And you should also have learnt by now that the ton are a fickle bunch, given to fads and fancies. And the one thing they never forgive or forget is cowardice. I, and consequently they, will no doubt consider your choosing to leave London because of a single incident to be exceedingly cowardly on your part.’
‘It is not a single incident,’ she gasped indignantly, ‘but the last of many.’
‘You are being a coward, Pandora.’
If Pandora were a woman who tended towards acts of violence then she knew that at this moment she would very much have enjoyed striking Rupert Stirling upon one of his haughty lean cheeks! As it was, apart from Richard Sugdon, she had never struck another person in the whole of her four-and-twenty years. She believed her years of being unhappily married to Barnaby to have slowly and inexorably dulled any spontaneity she might once have possessed, resulting in her now behaving in a cool and controlled manner in most, if not all, situations.
It would be most unwise of her to allow the annoyingly implacable Rupert Stirling to rile her into uncharacteristically volatile behaviour now. ‘If that is your true opinion of my actions, then I’m afraid you will have to continue to believe that, your Grace.’
‘If you “your Grace” me one more time then I am afraid I shall be forced to take an action I guarantee you will not in the least enjoy!’ he warned through gritted, perfectly straight, white teeth.
‘Why are you even bothering with me at all, yo—er—sir?’ Pandora gazed across at him crossly even as those glacial eyes narrowed dangerously. ‘Do you perhaps see my possible restoration into society as a project of pity with which you might amuse yourself for a day or until you became either bored or some other distraction piques your attention?’
That was a question which Rupert was as yet unwilling to answer. At this moment it was sufficient to admit that he needed Pandora Maybury as much as he believed she needed the protection of the Duke of Stratton.
He shrugged. ‘My reason for coming here today—apart from assuring myself as to your well-being after the events of yesterday evening, of course,’ he drawled just as pointedly as Pandora had minutes ago.
‘Of course,’ she echoed drily.
‘—was to present you with an invitation,’ Rupert continued firmly. ‘From the Countess of Heyborough. She wishes for you to join her and the Earl in their box at the opera this evening.’
Pandora drew in a sharp breath at this unexpected—and totally bewildering—invitation. ‘As far as I’m aware, I’m not even acquainted with the Earl and Countess of Heyborough.’
‘But I am.’
Pandora tensed warily at Rupert’s tone of satisfaction. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘The Countess is my maternal aunt.’
‘And she wishes to invite me to join her at the opera this evening?’
The Duke raised arrogant brows. ‘I have said so, yes.’
She frowned. ‘Would I be correct in supposing that you have also been invited to share that same box this evening?’
He gave a haughty inclination of his head. ‘It is intended that I will make up one of the party, yes.’
‘And this party will consist of …?’
‘The Earl and Countess of Heyborough. You. And myself.’
‘Why?’
His brows rose even further into his golden locks. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Why do you wish to act as my escort to the opera?’
Those sculptured lips thinned. ‘I have my reasons.’
As Pandora had suspected … ‘And are you about to share those with me?’
‘No.’
Again Pandora was beset with the thought ‘devil by name and devil by nature’ … ‘Are you so determined to once again witness my public humiliation that you are even willing to enrol the assistance of one of your relatives in order to achieve it?’
The Duke’s jaw tightened ominously. ‘Would you care to explain in what way my escorting you to the opera could in any way be considered a humiliation?’
She sighed her impatience. ‘When other members of the ton present this evening not only ignore me, but choose to deliberately cut me. Snubs that perhaps might include even yourself and your aunt and uncle.’
Rupert now looked at her down the length of his impressive nose. ‘I assure you, madam, that no member of the ton would dare to ignore you, let alone deliberately cut you, when you are in the company of the Duke of Stratton.’
He may be right in that conclusion, Pandora acknowledged ruefully; he was certainly a man to be reckoned with, both socially and politically, and as such he was unlikely to receive an insult from anyone. ‘And what of your relatives—is their social standing also to be threatened because of what can only be considered an amusement, a whim, on your part?’
He was every inch the aristocratic Duke of Stratton as he gave Pandora a pityingly look. ‘My aunt and uncle have no more interest in society’s approval than I.’
‘Even so—’
‘Cease this interminable arguing, Pandora!’ Rupert lost all patience with the conversation. ‘We are both going to the opera this evening, in the company of the Earl and Countess of Heyborough, and let that be an end to it.’
Tears once again glistened in those beautiful violet-coloured eyes. ‘What possible reason can you have for putting me through such an ordeal? Did I, or my husband, cause you some unintended slight in the past of which I am unaware? A slight that now requires my deliberate humiliation as atonement?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Pandora.’
‘I’m not the one who is being ridiculous, Rupert—’ She broke off, an expression of confusion on her delicately beautiful face at the realisation that in her distress she had lapsed into the familiar way of addressing him, after all. ‘I’m sorry, but the very idea of accompanying you to the opera this evening is completely out of the question,’ she continued evenly. ‘I only attended Sophia’s ball yesterday evening out of a desire to please her and because she has been so supportive and kind to me this past month. But, I assure you, I feel under no such obligation where you are concerned.’
Rupert felt a return of his previous admiration for this young woman’s dignity and calm. It might be a complete fabrication on her part, but nevertheless it was still impressive to behold. Also, he found her concern for others, namely her two female friends, and now Rupert and his aunt and uncle,