“What harm can it do, Finlay?” Every syllable oozed with desperation. “Two lonely people taking comfort?”
He reached across and captured her hand but still said nothing.
The curtains parted for the second act. It began with Victor’s turmoil, his guilt, his fear. Finlay sighed numerous times during the soliloquy. He sighed during the marriage scene. Sighed when the sentimental love song echoed through the auditorium.
As the play progressed, the tension on stage was nothing to the tension inside the viscount’s box. The air vibrated with a heavy energy that grew in intensity. Only the shudder of their sweat-soaked bodies and the passionate cries of their climax could curb this agitation.
Musket fire and rumbling thunder accompanied the death of Victor and the creature on stage. The curtains fell to rapturous applause. Patrons pushed to their feet.
Sophia wasn’t sure she could stand. “Are we to remain for the next production on the playbill? It’s The Rival Soldiers.”
He looked at her, a war raging in those inky pools. “I understand why they wish to follow such a terrifying tale with a farce, but I’m not in the mood for buffoonery.”
What was he in the mood for?
/>
A passionate encounter?
If so, he gave no indication. Indeed, he released her hand and stood abruptly. “Come, we will deal with our problem during the interval.”
“Our problem?” Did he speak of the need to slake their lust?
“Fitzroy Adair.”
“Oh.”
“We shall storm into his box and demand to know what the hell he was doing at Blackborne.”
Chapter 10
Love and loss was the theme of the evening.
Finlay always told himself Sophia had benefited from his absence. She had married a lord, not the son of a military man. What else did a woman want but wealth and status? Love was an extravagant luxury enjoyed by the few. But in reality, she had lost her innocence, lost her dignity, lost all hope.
If that were not enough to plague a man’s mind, he’d sat through a play that drew stark similarities to his own life. He had loved deeply. In following his conscience, his love had been snatched by a monster. And yet, in some respects, he was the monster. He craved love but sought to destroy his only chance of happiness.
“If we wish to question Fitzroy, we should hurry.” Sophia brushed her skirts with the hand that had massaged his manhood in the dark. “He won’t remain in his box during the interval.”
How had she slipped through his defences? He had surrendered the second her fingers crept up his thigh. He wanted her more than he’d wanted anything, and she had offered a perfect solution. A sexual liaison. Just for one night.
Temptation danced like the devil inside.
“Finlay?” Sophia’s voice broke his reverie. “Do you wish to speak to Fitzroy, or not?”
Finlay mentally shook himself back to the present. “Speak to him? I’m likely to wring the fool’s neck.”
“I need to know what he was doing at Blackborne. I need to discover what he knows about Jessica.”
“Trust me. The only way I will make that imbecile talk is if I threaten him with violence.” He had dealt with the likes of Lord Adair before, men who stood behind a shield of arrogance. Men who would rather risk their lives than appear weak.
Finlay smiled to himself.
Beating Fitzroy Adair would banish some of his frustration.
“Remember, make no mention of Jessica,” he said. “Fitzroy might know you own the house but know nothing more.”
Sophia’s nod came with a sigh of apprehension. “I shan’t utter a word. He would use Jessica as a pawn to lure me into his trap.” Her hand fluttered to her chest like a panicked bird. “Tell me Jessica is safe with Mr Sloane and Mr D’Angelo. They seem the unreliable type.”