The curtain fell for the first intermission and her gaze drifted back to Lockwood. He sat perfectly still, while the guests in his box stood and departed for drinks or a smoke. That left the duke all alone and Alice decided to pay him a visit. They hadn’t spoken since Newport, and she didn’t want him to think that she judged him for what had happened.

Stop making excuses for going over there. Just go and talk to him.

Rising, she glanced at her mother. “Mama, I must visit the ladies’ salon.”

“Again?” Her mother frowned. “I told you to stop drinking so much lemonade. Do not take too long.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

Because her mother’s long-distance vision was poor, Alice was safe to visit Lockwood in full view of the opera house. Once in the corridor behind the boxes, she hurried through the crowd toward the duke’s box. Part of her marveled at this impetuous decision—something she never would have done a month ago—but this version of Alice was a tiny bit bolder.

You have Kit to thank for that.

Indeed, and she’d remain grateful for everything he taught her, even if the memories were painful at the moment. Painful because she missed him, which was odd as she’d only known him a short time. But feelings didn’t base their strength on minutes and hours, apparently.

She slipped through the curtain at the rear of the duke’s box. He faced the stage, his jaw stiff. A brief flash of panic caused her to hesitate—and he chose that exact moment to glance over his shoulder. Blinking, he instantly came to his feet. “Miss Lusk. I hadn’t heard you enter.”

Dropping into an elegant curtsy, she said, “Your Grace, forgive my intrusion.”

“Nonsense. There is nothing to forgive. Might I offer you a drink?”

“No, thank you. I just wished to say hello and inquire after your well-being.”

“Indeed, that is kind of you.” He gestured to the seats. “Please, sit.”

She lowered herself onto the plush seat beside him and tried to remember Kit’s advice. Meet his gaze and hold it so there can be no mistake. People like to talk about themselves.

Angling toward the duke, she stared directly into his eyes. “Are you enjoying the production this evening?”

“Not particularly.” The side of his mouth hitched slightly. “I’ve seen this play many times over the years. I fear it’s lost its appeal for me. You?”

Instead of answering, she kept the focus of the conversation on him. “Do you attend the theater often?”

“Quite a bit, yes. I mostly live in London, so I regularly attend the opera and the theater. You are from Boston, if I am not mistaken. Have you theater there?”

“You must miss London, I would imagine. What is the city like?”