“Thank you, madam. My mind is at ease now.” She hadn’t really been worried for Sebastian’s safety, thanks to Eve’s clever thinking, but Helena desired his success. When he had looked her in the eye and declared his love for his sister days earlier, she’d seen his heart. He cherished his family as much as Helena valued hers. She had to believe he saw her heart, too, and was leaving no rock unturned in his search for her sister.
The duchess frowned at her daughter. “Have I missed an important piece of gossip? Olive will be most unhappy if I do not deliver on my promise to tell her everything that happens this evening.”
Lady Ellis hugged her mother and kissed her cheek. “I promise to tell you everything later, Mama.”
Helena smiled sadly, missing her mother more than usual.
Lord Ellis swept the red curtains aside, holding one side open to allow Eve to enter the box. “I located Lord and Miss Thorne.”
Eve’s brilliant smile lifted Helena’s heart. She stood to greet her friend, taking her hands. “You look lovely, dearest.”
It was an understatement. Eve’s dark curls were artfully arranged to fall softly around her face, and her pale blue gown with its intricate cream inlay displayed her figure to perfection. Madame Girard was more than a seamstress. She was a master artist.
“So do you, Helena.” Eve placed a featherlight kiss on each of Helena’s cheeks before accepting the dowager duchess’s warm greeting and exchanging pleasantries with Lady Ellis.
Helena’s gaze remained fixed on the opening in the curtains, waiting for Sebastian to appear. A soft gasp slipped past her lips when he did. The duchess and Lady Ellis turned to look.
A faint blue bruise marred his cheekbone, but that hadn’t surprised her nearly as much as his dazzling grin. And it was directed at her. Her heart leaped into her throat.
Lady Ellis’s mouth twisted wryly. “Why, Lord Thorne, whatever happened to your cheek?”
“Gabrielle,” her mother scolded softly then waved him into the box. “Pay her no mind, my lord. Growing up with brothers, one would think she would learn not to ask questions that likely cannot be answered in mixed company.”
Sebastian chuckled, then offered in a stage whisper, “I had a run-in with a glove, Lady Ellis, but if you think I look bad, you should see the glove.”
The lady laughed with him, her eyes bright. It was clear she liked Sebastian even if she hadn’t married him in the end. A rushing noise filled Helena’s ears, and her vision narrowed until all she could see was Sebastian touching the countess’s elbow as he helped her to her seat. He moved aside for Lord Ellis to sit beside his wife and turned to Helena. His smile fell. She pushed down her feelings of jealousy and forced herself to smile calmly as she chose a chair.
Dear God, what is wrong with me? Increasingly, she slipped into that in-between place where she was neither mad nor fully sane. Nights were the worst, though. While he was frequenting the brothels in search of her sister—her flesh and blood—Helena was pacing her bedchamber, her gut twisted in knots, sick with the knowledge he was lying with another woman.
Their kiss had only made the feeling stronger and she hated it. Hated being at the mercy of her emotions. Sebastian had been correct that day in the Norwicks’ garden. She was a liar. A jealous and apparently poor liar at that.
He sat in the chair beside her and glanced her way with his brow wrinkled. She turned her gaze toward the stage and pretended she didn’t notice his confusion. She could hardly admit to what she was thinking.
Eve sat in the front row where everyone could see her and know she was an honored guest. Helena studied the other patrons as they sent pointed looks in their direction. Some smiled kindly while others hid their own jealousy behind haughty lifts of their noses. Lady Lovelace’s soured frown jumped out at Helena, but when the widow noticed Helena watching, her expression transformed with a self-satisfied smile. Without trying to hide her interest, she eyed Sebastian as one would a plum pudding. He glanced up, caught the widow staring, and inclined his head in acknowledgment. When he looked away, Lady Lovelace smirked at Helena and mouthed the word mine.