Going Rogue by Jessica Jefferson Page B

went up again, her attention was caught by a movement in the box directly across the theatre from the Marshall’s. It was the same man who’d caught her eye earlier. There was something so familiar about him, yet she couldn’t quite put her finger on either the location or circumstance by which they might have met. He was saying something to the woman seated next to him, his features obscured from view. The woman laughed, and he stood, revealing a tall, broad-shouldered frame.
    Then he turned and looked directly at her.
    “Dear God,” she whispered.
    That was the last thing she remembered before fainting.

 
    Chapter 9
    Meredith opened her eyes just as Ophelia was placing smelling salts under her nose. She sputtered reflexively, swatting them away. “I’m awake,” she grumbled.
    “My apologies.” Ophelia sat back on her heels. “I didn’t know what else to do. Usually, I’m the one who faints.”
    Meredith started to sit up, but stopped suddenly—the room spinning. “Oh, my.” She reached up to rub the throbbing beneath her hair. “It feels as if my head’s been split in two.”
    Ophelia leaned over and inspected the back of it for her. “No, thankfully it’s fully intact. But you do appear to be developing a nasty-looking lump.”
    “It feels awful.”
    “Of course it does. You smacked it on the floor,” Ophelia said matter-of-factly. “Next time, I suggest you pick a better location in which to swoon.”
    Before she could respond, Mr. Marshall appeared before her.
    “Are you all right, Miss Castle?” Garrett offered his hand, helping her stand.
    “I’m embarrassed, but nothing’s broken if that’s what you mean.” She worked to adjust her gown and made certain everything was safely tucked away.
    Garrett smiled. “I do believe she’ll be just fine,” he announced to the group that had gathered in the Marshall’s box to witness the spectacle firsthand.
    “You’re shaking.” Ophelia reached a steadying arm around her. “We should take you home.”
    “No, that won’t be necessary. I assure you, I’m quite all right.” Meredith took a step back. “I just need a few moments in the ladies’ retiring room to gather my wits.”
    It was all coming back to her now and she’d indeed been shaken to the core. She tried to rationalize it the best she could. Obviously, her mind was playing tricks on her. There was simply no way the very man she’d tried so hard to eradicate from her life was sitting in King’s Theatre—it was impossible. It had been five years since she’d seen him. Five long years since their last argument. She had no doubt he was far away from here, happily married with a family in Middlebury.
    In Middlebury —two days ride from London.
    Meredith returned just in time to notice a man exiting the other side of the box.
    Her hand flew to her chest. She recognized his jacket as the same one worn by the man in the lobby and the box across the theatre. “Who was that?”
    Lady Marshall smiled proudly. “Lord Sutherland witnessed your fall and thought to stop by and make sure you’d recovered. Quite considerate, don’t you think?”
    Ophelia cast a look at Meredith and suddenly she understood. “ That was Lord Sutherland—the Scottish Earl?”
    “The very one,” Lady Marshall replied. “We had the pleasure of dining with him during our recent trip to the continent.”
    Relief washed over her. Now she just felt silly for having considered, even briefly, that the mysterious man had been Derek.
    “How gallant,” she remarked, watching for Ophelia’s reaction.
    “Miss Castle?” Garrett offered the crook of his arm. “Will you please allow me to help you back to the carriage?”
    “That’s not necessary,” she replied, accepting it without hesitation. “I’d hate to be an inconvenience. I know how Ophelia was looking forward to tonight, and I certainly don’t want to spoil all her fun by being the reason your family leaves early. We haven’t even started the