Rose felt her cheeks grow hot.
Katy’s eyes filled with mischief. ‘Why not bring Letty Dawes with you?’
Rose returned a withering glance. ‘You must be jesting.’
Katy laughed. ‘Oh, I’ll go. I have a fancy to meet this marquess who pines for you so strongly. Wish I could play it cool like you do, Rose. Never could disguise wanting a man as much as he might want me.’
Rose gave her a stern look. ‘Did not the madame always instruct you to dampen such liveliness? Do you not remember?’
‘That’s like asking a tiger not to have spots,’ Katy responded.
Rose could not help but smile.
When the night arrived to attend the opera at King’s Theatre, Rose went to Madame Bisou’s to dress. The madame had insisted on hiring a hairdresser to fix their hair, and Rose and Katy each wore Paris gowns Miss Hart had given them. Katy’s was a rich green silk gown that set off her red hair to perfection. Rose wore silk in a pale blush with white lace adorning the bodice and hem. The hairdresser threaded a strand of pearls through her hair, and Madame Bisou lent her pearls to wear around her neck and on her ears.
As Rose and Katy stood next to each other, surveying their images in a full-length mirror, Rose thought they looked tasteful. She had no wish to look like a harlot, even if that was what everyone wished her to be, what Flynn had accused her of being. She looked pretty, but she was nothing compared to Katy. What man could resist Katy’s vibrant beauty? Perhaps, if Rose were very lucky, the marquess would transfer his interest to Katy. And Flynn would forgive her.
Gentlemen were already arriving at the gaming-house at the time the marquess’s coach was to pick them up. Perhaps they would think her a new girl at this place, not much better than a bawdy house.
She shook her head. She must accustom herself to men thinking of her in this carnal way. It was part of being in the theatre, her father would say. She glanced at Katy, whose excitement just enhanced her lively beauty. How could she not impress the marquess?
Soon the footman came to tell them a gentleman waited for them in the hall.
‘Well, you are off, then,’ Madame Bisou said, nearly as excited as Katy. ‘I wish you good luck.’
She squeezed both their hands, and the two young women descended the stairway. Some men in the doorway of the gaming room stopped to watch them, their sounds of approval reaching Rose’s ears. She felt herself blush.
Rose purposely let Katy go first so Katy would make the first impression.
‘Why, if it isn’t Mr Flynn,’ declared Katy halfway down the stairs. She extended her hand so he could assist her on the last few steps. ‘Where is the marquess?’
Flynn’s eyes followed Rose’s slower progress as he answered, ‘He will meet us at the theatre.’ When Rose reached Katy’s side, he said a curt, ‘Good evening, Rose.’
‘Flynn,’ she answered, fearing matters would never be easy between them again.
‘Well.’ He looked at Katy, but only fleetingly glanced at Rose. ‘You look very charming. I am indeed most fortunate to escort you.’
Katy took his arm, holding on to him much too close. ‘Let us be off, then. We do not want to keep a marquess waiting.’
Flynn offered his other arm to Rose. Her fingers trembled as they lighted on his sleeve.
In the coach, Katy’s lively chatter filled the air, so Rose could excuse it that Flynn did not speak to her. He said a word here and there to encourage Katy to rattle on, but his attention to her friend only made Rose feel worse.
Soon the coach pulled up to King’s Theatre. As Flynn escorted them in, Rose forgot everything, even the admiring stares of gentlemen, as she took in the beauty of its grand hall, all marble and gold gilt. Flynn led them up carpeted stairs and past doors to what must be the boxes. They did not go far before he stopped at one and, after making a quick knock, turned the knob.
Katy nearly jumped up and down, but Rose held back, so it was Katy who first entered the darker interior of the box, where Rose could just make out the figure of a man.
He spoke. ‘Good evening. You must be Miss Green.’
Katy replied, ‘You are correct, sir. I presume you are Lord Tannerton?’
‘I am indeed.’
When Rose’s eyes adjusted to the dimmer light, she realised the marquess was the tall man she had seen standing near Flynn that first night at Vauxhall, the one with the casual air and affable expression.
‘I’ve seen you at Vauxhall,’ Katy said, as if speaking Rose’s thoughts.
The marquess smiled. ‘I have seen you too, Miss Green. Someone as lovely as yourself cannot be missed.’
Katy laughed, but softly this time. ‘I thank you. But you must meet Miss O’Keefe.’
She stepped aside, exposing Rose, and the marquess turned his eyes on her. ‘Miss O’Keefe, I am delighted you have come.’
Flynn stepped forward. ‘Miss O’Keefe, may I present Lord Tannerton.’
Rose dropped into a curtsy. ‘My lord.’
Tannerton extended his hand to her to help her rise. She had no choice but to accept it. ‘It is my pleasure to meet you,’ he said, holding her hand only a second longer than was comfortable.
He stepped back so that they could come farther into the opera box. Katy moved to the back, as did Flynn.
The Marquess spoke to Rose alone. ‘We shall have some refreshments at the intermission, but I have arranged for wine now. Would you care for a glass?’
She needed something to calm her. ‘Yes, thank you,’ she said.
Flynn immediately poured the wine, but Lord Tannerton handed Rose’s glass to her.
‘It is French champagne. Bottled before the conflict, but I managed to acquire a case very recently.’ He took his own glass. ‘May I propose a toast?’
Rose inclined her head, wondering why a marquess would ask her permission.
‘To new friends,’ he said, turning to include Katy, but letting his gaze linger a bit longer on Rose.
‘To new friends,’ repeated Katy.
Rose did not speak, but she took a sip.
‘Come now,’ Tannerton gestured to two front chairs. ‘Sit and be comfortable. The performance should start at any moment.’
Rose turned towards Katy. ‘Perhaps Katy—Miss Green—would like to sit up front as well?’
Katy ignored Rose’s silent plea. ‘I’ll sit behind you. Keep Mr Flynn company.’ For emphasis she laced her arm through Flynn’s.
‘Come,’ Tannerton repeated.
He settled Rose in an elegant brocade chair and sat beside her. For the first time she looked out into the opera house.
‘Oh, my!’ she exclaimed.
The theatre curtains were rich red with a gold fringe as long as she was tall, with the King’s crest, also in gold. The curtains spanned nearly the whole distance from ceiling to floor, a space high enough for several tiers of boxes all around. Light blazed from huge chandeliers close to the stage and from candles all around the edges of the boxes. The orchestra floor was busy with people talking and laughing and moving around. Several of the boxes were empty, but in those that were not, elegant gentlemen were seated with ladies dressed in beautiful gowns. Some were looking straight into their box, pointing and whispering to their companions.
‘It is rather thin of company.’ Lord Tannerton smiled at her. ‘But I hope you like it.’