Not as pretty as you. “I suppose, yes. She’s an actress, a friend of Preston’s . . . friend.”

“Ah.” She stared at the wall. “I should get back to my mother before she starts worrying.”

“Wait.” He didn’t want her to go yet. “Just another minute.”

“No, I should return to my seat. And you have your friends waiting for you. It was nice to see you again, Mr. Ward.” In a swirl of silk she departed, her steps measured and quick, as if she couldn’t wait to get away from him.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. That hadn’t gone well. Why hadn’t he charmed her instead of acting like a jealous fool? It was as if he’d forgotten all of his own lessons.

This would not do. He needed to stop focusing on Alice and recalling her greedy kisses and innocent smiles. She was better off finding a husband of substance, one who would love and cherish her, give her children. Kit was a short-term winner, not a long-term investment. Besides, he’d soon be running a supper club, which was one shallow step above a dance hall in the eyes of society. No proper family would approve of him as a son-in-law.

She deserved the wedding, the big house, a passel of doe-eyed children with chestnut hair. None of that interested Kit. So, better to purge Alice from his mind now before he ruined her chances at a good match.

Cradling the four glasses of champagne, he returned to the other end of the tier. He edged aside the curtain at the back of Preston’s box and slipped inside the salon—then drew up short.

Preston waited there, arms crossed, and a scowl on his face. Kit immediately asked, “What’s wrong?”

“That is what I’d like to know,” his friend said. “You rushed out of here like the place was on fire. So, what happened?”

“I went for champagne.” He held up both hands. “Just as I said.”

Preston stepped closer and lowered his tone. “Do you not wish to be here? I realize I pushed you into coming and brought Lottie along, but you’re normally not this . . . remote. Usually by now I’ve scolded you once or twice about public indecency, which always prompts you to leave with your companion at intermission. Tonight, you’re actually minding your manners.”

This was the problem with good friends. They knew you at your best . . . and your worst.

“I will apologize to Lottie. My attention is hers from here on out.”

“Good. See that it stays that way.”