And she intended to hold onto it with everything she had.
A Love Like Absolution
Damien felt thefamiliar luxury of crimson velvet as he settled into his private box at Covent Garden. The location provided an intimate sanctuary overlooking the grand theater, where London’s elite had gathered for Mozart’sDon Giovanni. Eleanor’s presence beside him in gold silk was both torment and delight as the opening notes filled the opulent space.
She’d insisted they attend—several major donors to her hospital would be present, and she opined that Damien’s charm could secure commitments that might prove elusive. What she hadn’t anticipated, though her knowing glances suggested awareness, was how the intimate setting would affect him.
Every time she leaned forward, candlelight caught the elegant line of her throat, the gentle swell of her breasts above her décolletage. When she whispered observations about the performance, her breath warm against his ear, Damien’s attention wandered from Mozart to far more carnal considerations.
The irony wasn’t lost on him—watching an opera about a notorious seducer while consumed with desire for his own wife. Since their consummation two weeks ago, they’d barely left each other’s beds. Every morning, he woke with Eleanor in his arms,every evening found them tangled in passion that grew more intense rather than familiar.
And therein lay his growing guilt. While he’d been losing himself in Eleanor’s embrace, learning every sensitive spot that made her gasp his name, where was Dominic? His brother remained missing while Damien indulged in marital bliss.
Three years he’d dedicated to Dominic’s recovery, sacrificing everything—including Laura—to ensure his brother’s safety. Yet now, Damien found himself distracted by Eleanor’s smile, the silk of her skin, the intoxicating sounds she made when he—
“The Countess of Mountainbridge is waving,” Eleanor murmured, drawing his attention to a box across the theater. “We ought to acknowledge her. She’s been quite generous to the hospital.”
Damien inclined his head toward the countess, even as his hand found Eleanor’s on the arm of her chair. The simple contact sent warmth spreading through him.
“You’re not watching the performance,” Eleanor observed quietly, her eyes twinkling with mirth. “Don Giovanni’s seduction scene, and you’re thinking of something else entirely.”
“I’m thinking,” Damien replied, his voice hoarse, “that this box affords us considerable privacy.”
Eleanor’s cheeks pinkened delicately, but her smile was pure feminine satisfaction. “Your Grace, we’re in public.”
“I can be subtle.” His thumb traced circles against her wrist. “The shadows are quite concealing.”
Before Eleanor could respond, the lights brightened for intermission, and the spell of intimacy shattered as Society began its ritualistic promenade and visiting between boxes. Damien suppressed a groan of frustration, reluctantly releasing Eleanor’s hand as the first visitors approached.
Lord and Lady Caldwell arrived and were followed by the Marquess of Dunmore, then several other acquaintances seekingto pay their respects. Eleanor graciously accepted compliments on her gown and inquiries about her charitable work, while Damien played the devoted husband, his hand resting possessively on the small of her back.
He was in the midst of discussing a potential donation with Sir William Thornbury when a familiar voice interrupted their conversation.
“Your Grace, how delightful to encounter you here.”
Damien turned to find Croft approaching, his hair slicked back like the slippery cur he was. The man’s smile was perfectly cordial, but his eyes held a cold satisfaction that made Damien’s instincts sharpen to dangerous alertness.
“Lord Croft,” Damien replied with careful neutrality. “Enjoying the performance?”
“Mozart always provides such illuminating entertainment,” Croft replied smoothly, his gaze flickering to Eleanor, who had moved to speak with Lady Stormhaven. “Might I borrow you for a moment? There’s a matter of mutual interest I’d like to discuss.”
Every fiber of Damien’s being screamed warnings. “Of course.”
They moved to the back of the box, where heavy curtains provided privacy from both the theater and Eleanor’s attention. Croft’s expression shifted immediately, the social mask falling away to reveal something far more sinister.
“I trust you’ve been enjoying married life?” Croft’s tone was conversational, but his eyes glittered with malice. “Though I imagine it must be difficult, knowing your brother’s situation remains unresolved.”
“If you have information about Dominic, speak plainly,” Damien said, his voice low and icy.
“Oh, I have information indeed.” Croft’s smile widened. “Though I wonder how much you truly know about your dear brother’s activities these past few years.”
“If this is about his addiction, the entiretonis already aware of his struggles and your involvement.”
“Perhaps,” Croft conceded with a casual shrug. “But I doubt they realize he’s been working for me all along.”
The words stunned Damien into silence but only for a moment. “You’re lying,” he said as his head cleared and suspicion replaced the blow.
“I wish I was for your sake.” Croft’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. “Your brother has been quite useful. His aristocratic connections, his apparent vulnerability—it’s astonishing how much information people will share with someone they pity.”