Again the Magic (Wallflowers 0.5)(73)

“Yes, and perhaps a panorama show.” Her skin became flushed beneath his ministrations, her ni**les contracting as he painted them with the moisture of his mouth. “Gideon…”

“Although,” he murmured, “the view at the panorama won’t begin to compare with this one.”

“It’s nearly sunrise,” she protested, wriggling beneath him. “I must leave.”

“You’d better pray that Mrs. Smedley sleeps late this morning,” he said, ignoring her protests.

Much later in the day, Gideon proved to be the most entertaining companion imaginable, especially to Mrs. Smedley, who resembled an imperious hen in her brown silk gown and her feathered headdress. Peering at Gideon through the inch-thick lenses of her spectacles, Mrs. Smedley could not see him well enough to be impressed by his dazzling handsomeness. And the fact that he was an American was not in his favor, as the chaperone was deeply suspicious of foreigners.

However, Gideon eventually won her over with sheer persistence. After he had purchased the best seats at the panorama, which featured views of Naples and Constantinople, he sat beside Mrs. Smedley and patiently shouted descriptions into the massive ear horn clasped against the side of her head. During intermission, he went back and forth numerous times to procure refreshments for her. After the panorama, as they rode through Hyde Park, Gideon listened humbly to Mrs. Smedley’s booming lecture on the evils of tobacco use. His meek admission that he did at times enjoy an occasional cigar sent Mrs. Smedley into an ecstasy of disapproval, allowing her to continue with new vigor. How disagreeable, how corruptive tobacco was…and sitting in smoking rooms would expose him to vulgarity and obscene language, a fact that did not seem to perturb him nearly as much as it should have.

Seeing what a splendid time Mrs. Smedley was having in admonishing Gideon, Livia found an irrepressible grin breaking out, time and time again. Every now and then his gaze would meet with hers, and his smiling blue eyes held an expression that made her breath catch.

Finally the lecture on tobacco was diverted to the subject of etiquette, and then into the more sensitive area of courtship, which had Livia wincing even as Gideon seemed to be highly entertained by Mrs. Smedley’s pronouncements.

“…one should never marry someone who is similar in form, temperament and appearance to himself,” the chaperone counseled them both. “A dark-haired gentleman, for example, should not marry a brunette, nor should a corpulent man marry an overendowed girl. The warm-hearted should unite with the cold-blooded, the nervous should be paired with the stoic, and the passionate should marry the cerebral.”

“Then it is not advisable for two passionate individuals to wed?” Although Gideon was not looking at Livia, he somehow managed to avoid the kick she aimed at the front of his shin. Her foot connected harmlessly with a lacquered panel.

“No, indeed,” was the emphatic reply. “Just think of the excitable natures of the children!”

“Terrifying,” Gideon said, raising his brows mockingly at Livia.

“And societal position is most significant,” Mrs. Smedley said. “Only those of equal situation should marry…or if there be inequity, the husband should be superior to his bride. It is impossible for a woman to esteem a man who is below her station.”

Livia tensed suddenly, while Gideon fell silent. She did not have to look at him to know that he was thinking of McKenna and Aline.

“Will I have an opportunity to see McKenna in London?” she asked Gideon, while Mrs. Smedley kept on orating, oblivious to the fact that she wasn’t being listened to.

Gideon nodded. “Tomorrow night, if you will do me the honor of accompanying me to the theater.”

“Yes, I would like that.” She paused before asking in a low tone, “Has McKenna mentioned my sister to you of late?”

He hesitated, and gave her a wary glance. “Yes.”

“Has he given you any indication of the nature of his feelings for her?”

“One could say that,” Gideon replied dryly. “He’s quite bitter—and keenly desirous of revenge. The wounds she dealt him long ago were so deep as to be nearly lethal.”

Livia felt a rush of hope followed closely by despair. “None of that was her fault,” she said. “But she’ll never bring herself to explain what happened, or why she behaved as she did.”

Gideon stared at her intently. “Tell me.”

“I can’t,” Livia said unhappily. “I promised my sister that I would never reveal her secrets. Once such a promise was made to me by a friend, and then she broke her word, and it caused me a great deal of pain. I could never betray Aline that way.” Unable to read his expression, she frowned apologetically. “I know that you must fault me for remaining silent, but—”

“That’s not what I’m thinking.”

“Then what are you thinking?”

“That everything I learn about you makes me love you more.”

Livia stopped breathing for a second, stunned by the admission. It took a long time for her to speak. “Gideon…”

“You don’t have to say it back,” he murmured. “For once, I want to have the pleasure of loving someone without asking for anything in return.”

There were two kinds of theatergoers—those who actually went to enjoy the play, and then the great majority who went for purely social reasons. The theater was a place to be seen, exchange gossip, and carry on flirtations. Seated in a box along with Gideon Shaw, McKenna, Mrs. Smedley, and two other couples, Livia soon gave up all attempts to hear what was taking place onstage, as most of the audience had elected to talk through the entire performance. Instead she sat back and watched the parade of men and women who came by their box. It was remarkable, the amount of attention that two wealthy American industrialists could attract.