Tense seconds later, Wylde jerked his head in the most miniscule show of approval—or acceptance.
What was that all about? Were they going to leave instead?
But no, Elizabeth immediately indicated the six chairs furnishing the tight rectangle he leased for an absurd amount of money. “Let it not be said that we routed you from your own box. Stay and join us.”
What?
Thea was hauling on his arm, trying her damnedest to back him out of there. Daniel didn’t budge. Had he heard aright?
Wylde gestured to the empty seats. “Aye, you must remain and partake of the performance with us. We insist.”
Deuced if this night didn’t beat all.
Lighting farts and scandalizing the ton by socializing his sister with his tart.
Only Thea wasn’t a tart.
She never had been. Not to him.
Which posed the question, what, exactly, was she?
While the dancers pranced about, everyone took their seats. Daniel positioned himself behind Ellie who sat next to Wylde. Thea he tucked securely on his opposite side, behind an empty chair.
Though he had the distinct impression not a one of them saw the ballet, all four heads remained fixed on the stage as though glued. Poor Thea, she’d approached the seat of her chair as if hot coals waited to fry her bum, her wide eyes imploring him not to participate in this farce.
But it wasn’t a jest. Not to him. Or to his family.
Wylde and Ellie might be flirting with social disaster, but Daniel knew his sister didn’t give a fig for expected behavior—their father had kept her on such a short chain during his lifetime, she was due whatever indulgence came her way. If associating for a single evening with a less-than-respectable female enlivened her life, then what was the harm? And Wylde? He already had a dubious reputation for flouting convention. As for himself, if a marquis couldn’t savor the opera with the companion of his choice, then what was the use of a title?
Hoping he conveyed confidence, he reached over to capture Thea’s hand. Never taking his gaze from the exiting dancers, he untangled her fingers from the wreckage she’d made of her purse strings and wound his gloved fingers between hers. Giving a light tug, he repositioned their joined hands atop his thigh.
The second the dancers disappeared off the stage, men and women exploded from their chairs and boxes to seek refreshment and recreation and, no doubt, urinary relief. The long interval between ballet and opera served several important purposes but its primary one, Daniel was certain, was to see and be seen. The surrounding melee was made more chaotic by the silence and the stillness that characterized the four of them.
No one moved, no one spoke.
Within seconds, the noise level beyond their silent foursome had increased tenfold.
Finally, some moments into the interval, Wylde nodded stiffly and excused himself.
The moment the door shut behind her husband, Ellie took the opportunity to fly into the empty seat next to Daniel.
“Is she the one?” his sister whispered behind her fan.
The one?
When Thea would have pulled away, Daniel tightened his grip on her hand. Keeping her firmly entrenched beside him, he cocked his head toward his sister, his blank look conveying, The one what?
Ellie leaned ever closer, flapped that fancy fan of hers ever faster. “The one who put the smile on your face,” she said so softly he had to piece together the sentence. “The gouges…your neck.”
A grin he couldn’t stop gave her all the answer she needed.
She beamed back. Then her expression turned sardonic. Wafts from her fan brushed past his forehead as she inquired lightly, “Any chance she also revels in pounding your face? It looks rather atrocious, brother dear.”
“Cream. More?”
“You need another jar of that latest batch? The one with the honeysuckle and cloves? Of course!” His sister’s delight knew no bounds.
He wondered what she’d say if she knew he’d given all of his to Thea.
“I’ll have it to you as soon as I gather some more and crush the blossoms. It’s growing in the conservatory at the estate but it’s too early for it to bloom outside— But you don’t care about that.” Her fan slowed to a crawl as she gave him a measuring glance. “I do believe this is the first time you’ve ever asked for more of a batch.”
He shrugged, that was all.
“Bad night?” Ellie deduced. “Your voice?”
“The worst,” he strained out.
“She’s very elegant.” Daniel nodded his agreement. “Refined too.” Daniel nodded again. “Are you sure she’s a lightskirt?”
He laughed outright. Then took a deep, cleansing breath and laughed again, just for the hell of it. Wonder of wonders, talking might seize him up like a fist clamped round his windpipe but laughter actually felt good.
His mirth drew Thea’s gaze. Though her fingers trembled uncertainly within his, she gave him a sweet, almost demure smile, rendering him very, very glad they’d stayed.
To Thea’s dismay, Lord Tremayne was called from their box a short time later, leaving her alone with the other woman, vastly curious what they’d just been whispering about.
Unsure where to look, after that too-brief, reassuring clasp of his hand to her shoulder, Thea flashed an uncertain glance past the empty chair between them. When she found the woman staring at her intently, Thea decided she found the stage below worthy of her complete fascination.
Pity nothing much was occurring on it.
Desperately, she looked into the orchestra pit. The musicians were pausing there as well, abandoning chairs and instruments in a bid to stretch their legs.
“Botheration! This will never do,” the woman exclaimed, sliding over to sit directly beside Thea. “I know it’s not done but I should like to meet you. I’m Elizabeth, Daniel’s sister.” She gave a light laugh. “Lady Wylde, if I’m to do it right, but I’ve never been one to stand on ceremony, so please do call me Elizabeth. Neither have I ever seen him so happy. My brother, that is. Thank you for
