It started when their carriage arrived at Lady Miranda’s estate. It came to a stop by the front door, the driver opened the carriage doors to let them out, and Adrian was the first to climb down. Ordinarily, he would offer Ophelia his hand to help her down, and ordinarily she would accept it. That time, however, she ignored his hand and climbed down without his help.
Adrian started back, appearing surprised by her rejection.
She raised an eyebrow at him, daring him to say something. He did not, even if he looked a little annoyed. And Ophelia smirked as if this was something to be proud of as she hoisted up the skirt of her gown and walked ahead of him.
“We need to be smarter than that, Ophelia,” he said as he came in beside her.
“Oh, I am sorry,” she said with sarcasm. “Have I upset you?”
“It is not about upsetting me,” he huffed. “We are trying to present an image to our peers. We must pretend –”
“I am done pretending,” she cut him off. “I only wish I had realized such a thing was an option weeks ago.”
A footman waited for them by the open doors, and he beckoned them to enter as they made their way up the steps. “You are expected,” he told them both. “The last to arrive, but your presence is most anticipated.”
“Are we late for supper?” Adrian asked.
“Not at all,” the footman said as he led them across the foyer. “Lady Miranda and the rest of the guests are in the drawing room, engaging in a drink before supper is ready to be served. Another thirty minutes or so.”
“Lead the way,” Adrian said.
The footman did just that, and Ophelia walked close to him, keeping her distance from Adrian. She ought to have stayed by him, entering the drawing room so that none would guess at the state of their marriage. But she simply did not care.
Ultimately, it made little difference because the guests were rather busy when they entered the drawing room. They stood in small circles, drinks in hand, chatting away and enjoying one another’s company. So, when Ophelia and Adrian entered, not together, few took note.
“Ophelia!” Adelaide cried out and rushed across the room. “Oh, good, you are here.”
Ophelia had felt tense all night, but seeing her best friend did much to relieve that weight. She beamed and swept across the room, soon embracing Lady Adelaide.
“Sorry we are late,” she apologized as she took Adelaide’s hands. “Hopefully, Lady Miranda was not upset.”
“Oh, she is fine.” Adelaide waved her down. “I saw her a moment ago but…” She clicked her tongue as she looked about the room. “I think she is checking on the food.” Adelaide then spied Adrian standing awkwardly behind. “Your Grace! It is good to see you again.”
“Miss Adelaide.” Adrian inched closer. “As it is, you.”
“I would make introductions, but I am sure you know everyone here,” Adelaide said with laughter. “Although…” She winced, glanced about, and lowered her voice. “Do not be alarmed, Ophelia, but there is one guest here who you might…” She winced again. “I did not know he would be here; I swear it.”
“Who?” Ophelia glanced over the guests quickly. “Who are you…” She trailed off, and her blood turned cold when she saw him. “Oh.”
“He has been nothing but courteous,” Adelaide hurried. “And when I told him that I was no longer interested, he was agentleman. Not that I doubt what you say, of course. But perhaps he has changed?”
“Perhaps.” Ophelia fixed the man in a glare, not caring how it looked.
“What are you speaking of?” Adrian noted his wife’s expression and followed who. “Who is that?”
“Lord Hallbridge,” Ophelia sneered. “He is here.”
She saw it then. The anger that passed behind her husband’s eyes. The way his body suddenly turned stiff, as if bracing for an attack. His hands were clenched into tight balls. He bared his teeth. And for a moment, Ophelia wondered if he was about to do something that he would surely regret.
But why would he even care? Why pretend?
Lord Hallbridge looked exactly as Ophelia remembered. Oh, she had tried to paint his visage in ways that matched his despicable personality. She had attempted to imagine boils covering his face, warts on his nose, missing teeth, and everything in between. Sadly, nothing could have been further from the truth.
He was tall, even compared to Adrian. Lithe of body, however, and not at all powerfully built or commanding in presence. His face was long, his ears much the same, but he was not ugly. His dark hair was thick, his chin was sharp, and his green eyes were a little too captivating. And even from across the room, Opheliaheard his laughter, and while it sent a shudder up her spine and made her hair stand on its end, it was deep and joyous and friendly sounding.
“That is him?” Adrian glared daggers at the man. “He is the one who…” He was already trembling.
How was it that this man continued to plague Ophelia’s life?