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Isabella been made aware of his interest? If so, for what end? So many questions for which he had only half the answers. However, this was one invitation he was not going to turn down. He debated ringing for Timmons, his valet, but knew if the delivery of this invitation followed previous ones, none of his staff would know how it arrived.
    Evening dress was handy. He could go from his club to the theater and then on to his evening engagement. It fit perfectly.
    Always a perfectionist, he took even more care with his appearance than usual. Timmons, who noticed the bruise on his neck, averted his eyes whilst handing Harry a cravat. Harry realized the man was trying not to gawp and laughed. “It’s all right, Timmons. It is a bruise of passion, I assure you. Something I’d wager you have never seen on me before.”
    “Never, my lord”
    “Neither have I,” Harry said cheerfully. “And the devil was, I didn’t even know it had happened. I was too involved with the lady to notice. Not at all like me, I assure you.”
    “No, indeed, my lord.”
    “We’re done, thank you,” he said as Timmons helped him into his coat. “Don’t wait up. I’ll manage.”
    “Thank you, my lord.” As Timmons began to tidy up, Harry realized his valet thought he would be finishing the evening at his mistress’s house and would not want to be found smelling of woman. Well, for once, he was wrong. He had no hope of finishing the evening with a woman. Especially the one he wanted.
     
    ***
     
    His club was full. Men were enjoying themselves with fine wines or games of cards before escorting their women folk to the various entertainments on offer, or if unattached, getting ready to enjoy the evening in whichever way they chose. As he debated over a game of cards or a quiet read of the daily newspaper, he was accosted by Charlie.
    “Ho, what are you up to tonight? Of to see Madame Minogue at the Theatre, or to the Countess of Essex’s ball?”
    “To the ball, for sure. As to what else?” Harry shrugged. “I ought to visit my mama. And you?”
    It sounded as if Charlie did not have an invitation for La Bella Isabella.
    Charlie looked somewhat uncomfortable. “Well, I…er…I’m escorting a young lady and her mama to the theater.”
    “You?” Charlie, to Harry’s knowledge, had never shown any interest in undertaking such a duty.
    “Well you know, the young lady in the coach? I thought I recognized her in the park today and made my introductions to her and her mama. Sadly t’was not my mystery woman, but then all I have seen of her was her profile and well…” He broke off. “So, I still have no idea of her or her companion, but I am anticipating an interesting evening. My young lady’s mama does not seem too strict a companion. Sorry.”
    “No matter, enjoy your evening. I may see you later.” He touched his friend briefly on the shoulder and went to find somewhere quiet to sit until nearer to nine, wondering just what the evening would reveal.
    A few minutes before nine, he took his seat in the box he was shown to. To his surprise, all the other seats and boxes were empty.
    “Are you sure this is correct?” he asked the usher, who had escorted him to his seat.
    “Yes, milord. I did say you might like to be nearer the stage, seeing as it was a private performance, so to speak, but was told no, you sit here. Proper temper she can have on her when she’s determined.”
    “Who can?” Harry asked the words idly, but shot a good, hard look at the man from under his brows. He was sure he knew that face from somewhere. Usually all the attendants wore masks, but not tonight.
    “M—er, La Bella Isabella, that’s who,” the strange usher corrected himself before putting his hand to his face. “Darn it. Forgot that mask.”
    “I won’t tell if you don’t,” Harry said kindly. “Nip and put it on now, and no one will be any the wiser.”
    Amused, he watched the man scurry out and sat back in his seat, ready to be