“I trust those men with my life.”
“Mr D’Angelo is reputed to be a lothario.”
“D’Angelo doesn’t plan on living long and takes pleasure where he finds it.” D’Angelo joined the Order hoping to find the fiends who murdered his parents. “He’s ready to die in the name of vengeance. But he will protect Jessica as if she were his own sister.”
The hum of conversation in the corridor confirmed people were leaving their boxes. Within seconds of Finlay opening the door, Lord Adair appeared.
“If you have something to say, you may do so here.” The pompous prig barged into the secluded seating area. “I’ll not be seen arguing in my father’s box.”
Mr Harrington and Mr Jameson lingered in the corridor like virgins at an orgy, all pink cheeks, shuffling feet and darting gazes.
Finlay threw them a devilish grin. “Don’t wander too far. You may need to summon a surgeon.” And with that, he slammed the door.
“What the devil is this about?” Adair said in the lofty tone Finlay despised.
“It’s about you being an interfering coxcomb.” Finlay stared down his nose. “Explain why you’re snooping into your stepmother’s affairs. Explain why you demand she is at your beck and call.”
The man’s lips twitched, drawing attention to his ridiculous side whiskers. “Must you use that term? I find it offensive. She’s the woman my father married, nothing more.”
Finlay resisted the urge to push the weasel over the balcony. Indeed, the lord must have sensed the danger as he shuffled sideways until his back was pressed to the wall.
“You resent her,” Finlay said, for it paid to have an opponent consumed by his emotions. “You hate the fact your father married someone young enough to be your sister.”
“It’s pathetic,” the lord spat. “Immoral.”
Finlay agreed but blamed William Adair, not Sophia. “Your father knew your arrogance would be the death of you and sought to secure another heir.”
“Is that what she told you?” Adair challenged. “It’s utter twaddle. She wanted a title. They coerced my father into marriage. They bullied him into submission.”
“They?” Finlay kept his tone even. Yet the old anxieties surfaced. Tales he concocted during his darkest hours. Had Sophia married William Adair for the reasons she had stated? Was it to save Jessica or for selfish motives? “To whom do you refer?”
“Clarence Draper and his scheming daughter.”
Sophia sighed. “How many times must I tell you? Marriage was William’s idea. He spent a week trying to persuade my father as to the merits of the match.”
“Ha!” Adair looked at Finlay as if he were Chief Justice of the King’s Bench. “Whenever I mention her treachery, she spouts the same ridiculous story.”
“Heaven help me, Fitzroy!” Sophia exclaimed. “Jealousy has affected your mind. William wanted me to bear him a son. It’s the reason the nobility marry.”
“Nonsense. Clarence Draper blackmailed my father into marrying you.”
Sophia’s laugh conveyed disbelief. “That’s absurd.”
Their gestures and expressions were determined, dynamic.
One might conclude they both spoke the truth.
“Blackmail is a serious accusation,” Finlay said. “On what evidence do you base your theory?”
Before Adair replied, Sophia blurted, “Please tell me you don’t believe this nonsense.”
“I am trying to establish how he came to such a shocking conclusion.”
“Because I overheard an argument,” Adair was quick to explain. “I heard the threat. Clarence Draper told my father that if he didn’t marry, the truth would out and lives would be ruined. Tell me that isn’t a means of intimidation.”
Ah, no doubt the conversation related to Jessica’s tragic tale.
Moreover, the conversation had taken place seven years ago. Adair was an unreliable witness, equally immature.