Page 60 of Cold November Rake

"And ye..." The duchess turned to Temperance. "Ye keep yer head high, ignore the whispers, and if anyone cuts ye or is rude tae ye, look at them with pity."

"Pity," Temperance repeated.

"Aye, nothing turns the biggest critics into admirers faster than acting as though ye're nae bothered at all, and as though they are the ones who need yer approval."

The duchess patted her on the arm, then climbed down from the carriage with the help of her husband. Sutton stepped forward and offered Temperance his hand.

Temperance placed her hand in his and stepped down. He tucked it into the crook of his arm and leaned close. "You need not do anything you don't want to. If it becomes too much, tell me, and we leave."

"Your mother will eat me alive," she protested.

"No, she won't." One corner of his mouth lifted. "She will have you well prepared."

A startled laugh escaped her. That was how, with a smile on her lips and a hand on her husband's arm, she entered the theater. Behind them, the duke and duchess were waylaid at the doors by acquaintances, and the young couple went on ahead alone.

It could have been her imagination, but the entire hall seemed to fall silent the moment they stepped inside, heads turning toward them.

It was not her imagination, however, that the fans rose, heads bobbed close together, and whispers filled the hall.

Intemperate Countess... How daring of her to show her face... His lover performs here... As if I would accept her invitation...

Her cheeks burned. Temperance wished the ground would swallow her whole.

Sutton, as if sensing her discomfort, laid his gloved hand over hers and squeezed.

Temperance took a deep breath. She had his support, at least, and she felt immensely better for it.

Halfway to the stairs, Temperance spotted Lady Greer, her mother's longtime acquaintance. She started to greet her, but the woman turned her head away, cutting Temperance in front of the crowd.

Lady Greer, who had taken tea at Temperance's mother's home every Thursday for as long as she could remember, had delivered the blow.

She shouldn't have been surprised. Temperance had brought shame on her family with her failed marriage, and even deeper disgrace when she joined her father's scandalous, eccentric spinster sister on her travels. If her parents refused to speak to her after that, why should she marvel that Lady Greer was the first to cut her so publicly?

It hurt so much that for a moment Temperance forgot where she was, and the duchess's instructions along with it.

She was to look at Lady Greer with pity.

Pity?

She was probably the one who looked pitiful.

Her step faltered.

Her husband's arm tightened beneath her hand.

Temperance lowered her face so no one would see her lips tremble.

"Breathe," Sutton whispered close to her ear. "And remember, we can leave at any time."

Temperance met his warm gaze and nodded. "I am well. I can do this."

He gave her a wink, and they continued to their box.

The Hardwicke box was on the first tier, with a view of the stage and, more to the point, of every other box in the house. Glasses lifted as Temperance took her seat. People came to the theater to watch one another as much as the performance, and to trade gossip as much as to hear arias.

So she lifted her head high and smiled up at her husband.

They needed to appear deeply in love.