Once again, Pamela was seated next to Jonathan in the carriage, with Sarah on the other side of her brother. The intimate contact was almost more than both could bear, but a few jolts soon had them relaxing against one another, with their shoulders and hips pressed together lightly. She couldn't very well pull away into the corner-it would look either too peculiar or particular. She had to suffer the joy and anguish of being so close to him and prayed no one noticed her high color.
Her consternation only got worse in the concert, when Jonathan sat with her and leaned near to explain the libretto. They had arrived late, and there were only pairs of seats available for the party.
Sarah and Elizabeth, looking very well in their fine cambric gowns with silk sashes in green and blue, were the target of several male admirers, and were made room for. Vanessa and Clifford sat behind Pamela and Jonathan for the sake of propriety, but also helped shield them from view. They were also placed near a pillar, which concealed their closeness well.
There was little chance for ordinary conversation, but the music was so sublime Pamela did not care to initiate any other talk. At the interval, Jonathan stood up to fetch her some punch, but Clifford told him he would bring some back for them both, and went off with Vanessa to mingle.
"Should we not go socialize as well? I see the Jenkins twins over there."
"Can't abide them."
She jumped at his abrupt comment. "I thought you liked the girls."
"Giggling little chits. Please spare me."
She stared at him. "It's not like you to be so, well, rude and outspoken."
"It was they that were gossiping about Elizabeth."
Pamela stiffened. "In that case, I shall avoid them too."
But she felt uneasy, for she knew they were particular friends of the Earl's. She tried to recollect whether she had ever had a private conversation with them, or even mentioned Elizabeth to them. But why would the Earl want to cause trouble for her? Jonathan had said he was untrustworthy in the past. She wondered what he had done to merit this opinion.
As if by magic, the object of her thoughts suddenly materialized before her, and made a beeline toward Elizabeth. The word fortune hunter immediately sprang to mind. She told herself she was being unfair. The girl was perfectly delightful if very young.
In any case, Pamela need have no fear, for the Duke's sister was far too sensible a girl to let herself get carried away at her age. Besides, the Earl was an earl; it was no mean thing for her to be matched with him, though there was still something about Ferncliffe...
Jonathan saw her staring at the Earl, and misconstrued her feelings. He felt himself burn with jealousy, and allowed his knee and leg to touch hers as if by accident. She looked into his eyes, and her mouth went dry. If she moved just a little closer, she would be able to kiss him.
She might get away with it behind the pillar... Why not?
Pamela steeled herself to move forward a bit more, but just as she was about to lean into him in open invitation, Clifford returned with the punch.
"Thank you so much, Mr. Stone."
Clifford smiled down at Pamela good-naturedly, and was genuinely sorry he had interrupted them. Well, it would have long-lasting consequences if they were seen kissing in the Octagon, so it was probably just as well he had come along when he had.
The musicians began to tune their instruments as a signal that the concert would start again shortly. There was the usual scramble back into seats.
The Earl saw Pamela as he moved toward the back. He bowed gallantly.
She nodded her head, but Jonathan did not respond.
Pamela stared at her companion. Really, he was behaving so oddly this evening. To cut a nobleman in so ostentatious a manner? It was unthinkable. What on earth could be amiss?
She looked at him, but his eyes had resumed their normal steely-gray coolness.
Pamela enjoyed the second half of the concert, particularly the love songs. She felt a warm shiver of passion run through her as Jonathan touched her arm, gripping it above her elbow, his hand scorching upon her bare flesh. Either he had forgotten to put his gloves back on, or he had left them off by design. The effect was electrifying for them both.
He made no apology, however. When the concert was over, he helped her rise from the chair and assisted her with her cloak. He stroked her velvet-clad shoulders as if she were a kitten. He caught himself in time, and prayed no one had seen him.
Then he pulled back on his gloves, condemning his absent-mindedness aloud, and they were ready to depart. Pamela did not dare look him in the eye. If both of them seemed breathless, they did not risk any comment upon the matter.
Pamela was surprised Jonathan did not linger to speak with anyone. He stepped directly out to the carriage with her. She looked back to make sure that Clifford and Vanessa were following, but Clifford was making certain that Elizabeth and Sarah were ready to leave.