Antony was waiting at the entrance for Frances' family to arrive, when he saw Marcus walking towards him.
'Are you sure you don't work for espionage, you seem to know my every move,' teased Marcus.
'No, I am not spying on you. I was invited here,' replied Antony.
'Invited! Don't tell me, by a lady?' Marcus asked with a sly smile.
'Yes' said Antony, giving him an equally sly smile.
'In that case, I must stay to watch everything,' Marcus said, propping on the railing.
Frances saw Antony waiting for them at the entrance, but he wasn't alone, Lord Marcus Paulen was standing with him. When Frances saw Marcus, her stomach gave a jolt. When he looked up and saw her, she felt another heavier jolt. Scowling at this unfamiliar reaction she made her way towards them.
Marcus was amused to see Frances scowling as she made her way towards them.
'Hello, Mr. Bennet,' she smiled at Antony. And gave a little curtsy murmuring 'Lord Vandam' without looking at him.
She said to Antony, 'Aunt Mary, I mean Lady Smith is waiting near the other entrance, Mr. Bennet. I am here to escort you.'
Marcus cleared his throat, 'hem,' she didn't look at him. He gave a false cough, 'ahem' she still didn't look up. He felt irritated.
'Problem with Lord Waymound has been taken care of, in case you are wondering,' said Marcus.
'Thank you,' replied Frances, she still wouldn't look up. This irritated him, Marcus was not a patient man, if someone irritated him, he made sure they were irritated ten fold.
'I don't want to attend the opera alone, why don't we invite your family to join me in my box,' said Marcus.
At this, she looked at him with surprise, he gave her a bright smile. Frances felt as if her stomach had dropped out of her.
'What is wrong with me? Why is my stomach reacting this way whenever I look at Lord Marcus!' Frances thought.
Marcus was satisfied to see her blush. She tried to talk, gulped some air, tried again, but no sound came. She looked like a gulping fish.
That's when Lady Smith and Anne arrived to find them. Like Frances, Lady Smith too scowled to see Lord Marcus with Antony.
'We came to check what was taking Frances so long,' said Anne.
'Lady Smith, we have never been introduced. I am Lord Marcus Paulen, Earl of Brentwood,' said Marcus.
Aunt Mary looked taken aback, but she quickly recovered. 'Lord Paulen, I am Lady Mary Smith, Baroness of Nottingham and this is Miss. Anne Hill.'
'It would be a great pleasure to invite you all to view the opera from my box as I find myself without company today,' invited Marcus.
Frances could almost hear her Aunt's thoughts. Lord Marcus owned the second-best box in the theater. His father was sponsoring the play, they may even get a chance to meet the performers in person. She also wanted to keep Frances away from Lord Marcus. Finally, desire won and she accepted.
Marcus was taken aback to see the crowd that followed him, there were eleven members; Frances, Anne, Mrs.Hill, Mr. and Mrs. Smith, Frances' 3 cousins, and their spouses. Frances gave a smug smile, seeing Marcus' reaction.
There was a murmur of excitement as they entered Marcus' box. They entered directly to a parlour furnished grandly, from which were stairs leading to six private balconies to seat couples. There was a pantry. Another entrance led to two large balconies, which had formal seating arrangements on one side and several card tables on the other side.
Mrs. Hill and Lady Smith took seats in one of the largest balconies. And the three couples quickly left to claim the couples' balconies. Mr. Smith dropped in one of the couches and began to snore promptly.
Frances and Anne made their way to the other large balcony and took seats, Marcus followed them. Antony not knowing what to do followed Marcus. Marcus sat near Frances leaning slightly towards her, while Antony settled on Marcus' other side. Frances could almost smell Marcus and feel the heat radiating from him. She felt a tight clenching in her lower abdomen. She had a strong incline to lean toward Marcus and take a whiff.
The play began; it was 'Acis and Galatea.' She could feel Marcus' eye on her, but she couldn't turn and look at him. She felt shy. God! she felt too shy to look at him. She kept staring at the stage, but she couldn't concentrate.
Marcus kept staring at Frances, 'Look at me dammit,' he thought irritably and she wouldn't look at him.
Part 1 of the play came to a conclusion. Anne excused herself and left for the Ladies' room, Frances got up to follow. Marcus jumped in front, blocking her way. She tried to sidestep but found her path blocked once again.
'Look at me,' he growled,
Frances looked at him and turned pink. 'I shouldn't be seen talking to you,' she said.
'Why is that?' asked Marcus.
'I know you are a bread spitter, I have- Agh! ,' gasped Frances as Marcus grabbed her arm painfully.
'What did you call me?' growled Marcus, his irritation turning to anger.
How dare she call him a beard splitter to his face, he has never been insulted such.
'Let go, it hurts,' she pleaded. Antony was equally angry, and did not intervene. He felt she had gone too far and she needed to be taught her place.
'How dare you call me such a thing,' exploded Marcus.
'It is not like it's not true, I saw in Wellington ball,' now she was angry she tried to yank her arm but he held it firmly.
'Spying you mean,' snorted Marcus.
She flushed red with anger, 'Not like you were hiding it. You did it in front of everyone. You even went for a third one,' she growled back.
At this Marcus asked, 'What are you talking about?'
'I saw you do it, you can't deny.'
'What do you mean? Third one?' roared Marcus, did she count her as third person, he didn't do anything to her, yet.
'I saw you bite three sandwiches and spit them all out and you still speak as though you are not a bread spitter.'
Marcus' face turned from anger to confusion and then one of amusement. He laughed and Antony joined in.
'Ho! Bread spitter, that's a good one' said Antony, and they both laughed again.
'This is so not funny,' roared Frances.
'Miss Hill, I am allergic to peanuts and strawberries, I was searching for a chocolate filled sandwich and ended up having peanut butter twice and strawberry jam once,' said Marcus trying to keep a straight face.
'Ho! Was that why you spit the bread? I am so sorry Lord Marcus,' apologized Frances.
'I am sorry too,' he said looking at her arm which was red at the place he held.
'Who did you hear call me bread spitter?' enquired Marcus. She just blushed and didn't answer. Marcus guessed it must have been her Aunt who called him "beard splitter" and Miss. Frances took it as "bread spitter".'
The play resumed, this time Marcus could feel Frances shooting him secret glances when she thought he was not looking. He smiled to himself.