“But not yet?”
Eliza must’ve felt his heart drumming though his chest. She smiled against his shirtfront and promised him, “No, Mark, not yet.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Later in the week, he surprised her with tickets toFloradora, a popular West End musical.
“I thought you might fancy an evening out,” Mark said, waving the tickets beneath her nose.
Eliza had never seen a musical, never attended the theatre, but she knew most of the songs sung in the pubs and the lyrics shouted on the streets.Floradorawas the most sought-after show in London. The sextet of beautiful ladies in the chorus line was celebrated throughout the city, and to see them perform in person would be a very special treat.
She took the ticket packet from him, pressing the four crisp pieces of paper to her lips. She could’ve kissed him, but she settled for the stubs instead. “How marvelous, Mark!”
“I’ve invited Ann and Sidney, as well,” he told her. “Mostly for the look of the thing—publicly, we ought to have a chaperone—but I say two young parents deserve some fun. Don’t you?”
Eliza nodded enthusiastically. “The more the merrier, I reckon.”
He took a seat across from her and selected a cucumber sandwich from the tea tray. Her friend and host preferred his afternoon feeding at precisely a half hour after his arrival from the Bank. Eliza enjoyed his predictable schedule, knowing when he would leave for work, when he would return, and when he’d be hungry. There was safety in it. Security.
After a perilous and unstable start in life, Eliza relished in Mark’s steadiness. Yet she looked forward to a surprise night at the theatre. It would be a family outing for Sir Mark, the Coopers, and her.
He watched a smile play across her face, and she blushed beneath his sweet scrutiny. He was fond of her, she knew. He might’ve even been falling for her, but there were miles between his world and hers. When the time came for her to leave, their paths would never cross again.
Grinning, Mark took a bite of his cucumber sandwich. “What are you going to wear?”
Eliza had picked pockets and pinched purses up and down Piccadilly. She’d lurked in the shadows of the Strand, watching the theatre-goers and opera patrons from Covent Garden to Leicester Square. She knew ladies wore silks and furs, diamonds and pearls. Long, fine, white kid gloves that stretched almost to their shoulders, and heavily beaded cloaks that swept the rain-slicked pavements.
“There’s a blue frock in the wardrobe chest,” she said. “Jenny can hem it, press it, and dress me up nicely.” She batted her lashes at him, laughing. “It’ll match my eyes!”
He laughed, too. “You’ll look as beautiful as ever, I’m certain.”
The blush in her cheeks turned to a scald. Lord, she must’ve gone as red as a ripe berry! Eliza touched her fingers to her face, feeling her pulse quicken. Mark had told her that she was pretty the first night they’d met. Since then, he hadn’t sought to change her, only to help her. To most folk, she was a nuisance, but tohim, she was beautiful.
“I can hardly wait ’till the show—Floradoraat the Lyric Theatre—and tonight, I’ll be on the right side of the kerbstone for once!”
“Then you had better get dressed,” said Mark, devouring the last of the sandwich. “I thought we’d have an early supper before meeting the others. Ann and Sidney shall have their hands full with Geoffrey, their son. He’s a willful little lad, you know, and wants bathing, dressing, and being put to bed by his parents and no one else.” He flashed a smile. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they were late for the opening number, though we mustn’t keep them waiting in any case.”
Eliza rose from her seat, crossed the carpet, and returned the four tickets to him.“Idon’t want to be late, Mark.Idon’t want to miss the opening number.”
He tucked the tickets into the breast pocket of his jacket for safekeeping. “Neither do I.”
She laid her hand atop his head, affectionately smoothing a lock of thick, dark hair. A few flecks of silver glimmered at his temples, making him all the more dear to her. “Thanks for the tickets and for thinking of me. I like your sister very much. She’s good company.”
“Ann is awfully fond of you…”
Still stroking his hair, Eliza asked, “Wouldn’t she rather you took a lady of your class to the theatre, since you’re dragging her from Geoff’s nursery and all?”
Mark caught her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing her knuckles. His mouth was warm and his touch was gentle, and his gaze held hers. Their eyes locked for a long time before he said, “So far as I’m concerned, Eliza, you are in a class of your own.”
***
Mark assisted her into the carriage.
True to her word, Eliza had chosen a sapphire blue velvet frock with a matching beaded cloak. Little sequins caught the lamplight, dazzling sleepy Green Street with her beauty, her vivacity, and her daring. Her brown hair had been curled, pinned, and piled atop her head, which she proudly held high. In lieu of jewelry, she’d looped a wide, silken ribbon around her throat.
She appeared fashionable and attractive, if slightly unconventional.
Mark was besotted. He felt as smitten as a schoolboy when he climbed into the landau. He took the seat opposite hers, and then reclined onto the squabs with a sigh. He enjoyed the theatre, though he so rarely spared a moment to amuse himself.
