There was a wicked glint in his eyes that suggested that he was only too pleased by the chaos he had wrought. But as Nora and Robert both alighted onto the pavement beside them, James lifted his head and, without even politely awaiting the end of Robert’s sentence, said, “Ravenhurst, I will give you both horses if you will kindly shut up.”
Robert shut up so fast that it was very nearly comical.
Well. It hadn’t been quite what Jilly had had in mind, but it had been effective. But she swallowed down her amusement and placed her hand neatly in the crook of the arm that James had offered her. The pavement was crowded with theatre-goers, many of whom openly gawked at them as they sailed into the building. For once Jilly did not resent the speculation that surrounded them. Perhaps she did not wish to marry, but it was quite nice, actually, to be viewed as more than a spinster. She had accepted that there would always be those who would pity her for having failed to secure a husband, but she had chafed under the assumption that the fault had been hers for failing to snag one instead of it having been her choice. At least now they would know that it hadn’t been a lack of attention but a lack of interest on her part.
An attendant greeted them at the door and swept them away from the crowds heading to the floor seats up into the section reserved for those that held the coveted private boxes. Jilly had, of course, been a frequent visitor to the theatre. While her brother had not kept the private box that their parents had purchased, she had numerous acquaintances with their own boxes, and so she was no stranger to them. But she had never been in a private box that had ever come close to matching James’ for opulence. They passed through the private door edged with gilt and then through heavy damask curtains, ostensibly to block the light from the corridor should the door be opened during the performance. The box itself was smaller than the others she had been in, seating perhaps a maximum of eight, but it was lushly carpeted and set with four large, comfortable chairs right at the front. Sconces on the walls contained lamps that had not yet been lit. A small table sat between the two center chairs, upon which had been set a bottle of champagne chilling in a bucket of ice, surrounded by four fluted glasses.
“I forgot to ask,” Jilly said as James guided her to a seat, “what are we seeing?”
“Romeo and Juliet,” James replied. “A bit overplayed, perhaps, but it ought to be entertaining all the same. Careful, there.” He swept a set of opera glasses from her chair and passed them over to her as she sat. She accepted them with a laugh, smoothing the skirts of her sage green velvet gown.
“What would I need these for?” she asked.