An Unsuitable Duchess Read Online Free Page B

open seating above. Chandeliers were suspended from each box, illuminating the theatre and making it easy to see its occupants.
    Scanning the colourful attendants, Katrina found her gaze was drawn to a box close to the stage in the row above her own. She adjusted her opera glasses to get a better view.
    ‘I thought English gentlemen were more discreet in their intrigues. Lord Phelps appears rather bold,’ she whispered to Sarah as they sat together in the Forresters’ box.
    They both watched as a tall blonde woman turned adoringly to the portly older gentleman as he slid her mantle from her shoulders. Katrina’s eyebrows rose as the cut of the woman’s dress was revealed. The last time she’d seen a dress cut that low, she’d been in Paris.
    ‘Perhaps that woman is his daughter,’ Sarah said, clearly not believing her own suggestion.
    ‘What do you think possesses a man to seek a mistress?’
    ‘Lack of contentment, I suppose,’ replied Sarah with a slight lift of her shoulder. ‘It appears much more common here than it does back home. Most of these ton marriages seem to be for convenience and not love. That may explain why there are so many indiscretions.’
    Katrina’s gaze drifted back to Lord Phelps, who appeared to be introducing another older gentleman to his mistress. ‘I am grateful joining the ranks of the ton is not to be my fate. I would never want my future tied to a man who would likely have liaisons.’ She turned to Sarah and her spirits lifted. ‘Hopefully when I return home I will find an honourable man who will think me so captivating he will have no choice but to offer for my hand.’
    ‘Hopefully he will be handsome, as well as honourable,’ Sarah said with a grin.
    Before Katrina was able to respond her father sat down in the vacant seat on her other side. ‘And how are the two of you enjoying the evening thus far?’
    ‘We have been admiring the sights,’ Katrina said as she smiled affectionately at him. ‘It appears a number of boxes are garnering quite a bit of attention, and it’s lovely not having stares and whispers pointed in our direction for once.’
    But in a box across from where Katrina sat in comfortable conversation a man was staring—a very surprised man.
    * * *
    Julian narrowed his eyes and studied the woman in pale pink satin. He lifted his spyglass for a better view. She had rich golden hair, delicately curved shoulders, and her face moved with animation as she talked with the woman to her right. There was no mistaking it: this was the American he had spoken with on the de Lievens’ terrace the night before—the same one who had plagued his thoughts throughout the day.
    The older gentleman sitting next to her smiled indulgently, and Julian had an unnatural urge to drag her away from her companions. What the hell was wrong with him?
    ‘I believe you have not heard a single word I’ve said for the last five minutes,’ Hart complained with annoyance as he flipped a guinea in the air and caught it.
    ‘Of course I have. You were discussing one of your latest liaisons.’
    Hart let out a deep-throated laugh and leaned back in his chair, tipping it precariously. ‘Not unless her name was Royal Rebel. Which, come to think of it, would be an exceptional name for a princess I am intimately acquainted with... I was speaking of the race I attended this afternoon and the amount of blunt Royal Rebel brought to my pockets. Came from behind and all. It was quite exciting.’
    Julian was unable to keep his gaze from returning to the American, even though he tried to focus on his friend.
    ‘What’s her name?’ Hart asked, flipping the guinea again.
    ‘Whose name?’
    ‘Whomever the lady is who has your attention—attention, I might add, that should be focused on me . It was sporting of you to invite me out this evening, but you really are an abominable host.’
    Julian glanced at this friend. ‘What makes you think it is a lady who has my attention?’
    ‘Foolish of