His mother would never change, and he loved her. Dany was not his mother, but she clearly delighted in nonsense. Maybe that combination wasn’t as bad as it might have seemed a day earlier. Actually, the two of them, together, could be fun, if fun was the correct word. Still, he had to say something, admonish his mother in some way. “Mother—”
Applause rose around them at that moment, and for an instant Coop wildly thought both Minerva and Dany would stand up and curtsy to the audience. But it was only Intermission, and an unforeseen rescue as he grabbed Dany’s hand and all but mowed down Rigby and Clarice as he dragged her past a canoodling duke and duchess in the shadows, and out of the box.
“Where are we going?” she asked him as he raced her along ahead of any other patrons also intent on escaping their boxes for a bit of air and refreshment. “And can we get there before anyone can follow us?”
Coop turned to grin at her, because once again she had peeked into his mind and seen his intentions. “Had enough of our jolly friends for a while, have you? The royal box is empty and curtained, and only five boxes down this way. It’s our best option.”
Carefully looking in all directions to be certain they weren’t observed, he then pushed back the velvet curtains and entered the royal box. Because the front of the box was also draped shut, the move cast the two of them into near-total darkness.
“Won’t we be arrested and clapped in chains if anyone discovers us in...”
He didn’t allow her to finish. He was too intent on turning her about, pulling her into his arms and taking possession of her incredibly enticing full mouth.
To silence her, of course.
Bloody hell that was the reason!
Perhaps she’d sneaked a few lessons from Rigby and Clarice’s performance earlier in the coach, because this time there was nothing wooden or missish about her response to his kiss. Instead, she rather melted against him, even as her arms slid up his chest and she wrapped her hands around his neck.
His reaction to this unexpected capitulation was anything but that of a seasoned seducer.
His throat seemed to swell, his heart rate doubled and damn if there wasn’t a small show of fireworks going on behind his eyelids.
Other parts of his body reacted in a purely masculine way.
She seemed to notice that, as well. And not shy away.
Coop deepened the kiss, sliding the tip of his tongue inside her mouth, tasting her sweetness, marveling when she returned ardor for ardor. His thigh somehow found its way between hers and he moved his hand down to cup her firm round bottom, move himself against her.
He broke the kiss but not their embrace, moving his mouth along the side of her throat, pressing kisses against the exposed skin above the neckline of her modest gown, lightly squeezing her breast as she threw back her head in the age-old signal of acceptance.
Coop, with the last shreds of sanity he retained, knew he had to stop. This was not the time, and most definitely not the place.
And who knew she’d be so willing? God, she was willing.
It was that thought that truly stopped him.
He had to know. Curse him for a fool, he had to know.
He put his hands on her shoulders and put a careful six inches between them, attempting to make out her expression in the darkness.
“Are you in any way serious, or is this just another adventure?”
The sound of her palm hitting his cheek could not be considered one heard ’round the world, or even outside the royal box, but it was one totally deserved, and Coop knew it.
“Oh, God, Dany, I’m...”
“Not another word, my friend. You’ve more than dug this particular hole deep enough. Although I was going to stop you, anyway, for the sake of my own delicate sensibilities.”
Coop and Dany turned as one, to see the dark outline of one Darby Travers standing just to the left of the railing overlooking the theater.
“How did you...?”
“Where else were you going to go?” Darby interrupted, stepping toward them to bow over Dany’s hand. “I knew you couldn’t remain in the duke’s box throughout the entire evening, not without running stark, staring mad into the streets, and this was so wonderfully convenient. Or am I wrong, and Minerva is behaving herself?”
“She was behaving exactly like Minerva,” Coop said, putting a protective arm around Dany’s shoulders—why, he didn’t know, since he could be considered the enemy at the moment. “But Dany has passed muster by allowing herself to be amused.”
Dany shook off his light embrace and wrapped her silk shawl more closely around her. “If I may be allowed to speak?”
“I don’t know,” Darby said. “Coop, do we dare?”
“I’d ask you to go away,” Dany said in some heat, “but that would only amuse you, my lord. Why are you here? Aren’t you supposed to be following Mrs. Yothers?”
“Ah, dear lady, but I am. Or at least I was. I followed her directly here from her shop. She purchased a ticket, stepped inside, ignored the staircase to the highest balconies and made her way to a box situated directly across from this one, as coincidence would have it. Conveniently, at least for us, she extracted a folded paper from her reticule before stepping inside the box. She tarried inside but a moment, and is now on her way back to same said shop, I’d imagine, having delivered her missive to her—I suppose I should say employer?”
“Tipping him to the carefully fed gossip about you.” Coop took a step toward his friend. All right, they were making progress. “Good, at least something is going as planned. Who occupies the box?”
“Yes, that’s where it gets a bit sticky. I suppose now I have to reveal that I was using the royal box as a vantage point, to see who occupies that box, and that you shocked me all hollow when the two of you stepped in here and began— Well, that’s enough of that.”
“I knew you weren’t that perceptive,” Dany said with readily apparent satisfaction. “But you are lucky, I will admit to that.”
Darby touched his fingertips to his patch. “That’s me, Miss Foster. I’ve been basking in good fortune all my life.”
“Oh. I’m so sorry...”
“Don’t fall for that one, Dany,” Coop warned her. “If the ball had been an inch lower we’d be putting posies in front of his headstone once a year.”
“But that’s not lucky, it’s only less unlucky,” Dany pointed out in what Coop had come to understand to be typical Daniella Foster logic. “Again, I’m sorry, my lord. But if I may admit to a concern I’ve had ever since my trip to Mrs. Yothers’s shop this morning? What if Clarice and I weren’t as convincing as we supposed, and all Mrs. Yothers wrote in her note this evening is that we’re onto her?”
“Does it matter, Miss Foster?”
“No, I suppose not, unless you’ve set your heart on being blackmailed, but it would be disheartening to believe we were that unconvincing. Now, tell us who is sitting in the box.”
“Doesn’t cling to things until they become maudlin, does she?” Darby joked, and then suggested they vacate the royal box before someone else got the bright idea for a quick assignation at the king’s expense.
They exited carefully, Coop and Dany both, and were followed a few moments later by the viscount, who promptly