“I think the curtain is about to rise,” said Marianne. “Colin and Jocelyn can take those seats over there. I have a headache, so Charles and I shall sit at the back of the box, which means that you, Marcus, and Olivia can sit at the other side. Does that suit everyone?”
They took their seats as the overture started and were soon lost in the music, the arias, and the humorous comedy, which had them laughing out loud on several occasions.
As the story unfolded, with moments of tender love between Susanna and Figaro, he found his gaze drawn to Olivia’s profile and the obvious joy she found in the music. There were breaks between each interval for scenery to be moved and this gave him time to talk with the young lady at his side.
“This isn't going well,” she said with concern, “I don’t like Count Almaviva at all.”
“Don’t worry. I don’t want to give the ending away, but it is a romantic comedy.”
He noticed Olivia looking at Lady Leighton with concern. “Marianne hasn’t felt well all day, and she does suffer with the migraine.”
At the second long interval, Lord Leighton told Olivia and Marcus that he was going to take Marianne home. Their friend looked pale, and Olivia told Marcus she knew these headaches could last for several days.
“Look after her, Charles,” Olivia said. “Are you sure you don’t want me to accompany you?”
“No need for that Olivia. I’ll send the carriage back for you and Jocelyn.” He turned to Marcus, “Can I ask you to escort these two young ladies to the carriage when the performance ends?”
“Of course,” said Marcus. “I trust Lady Leighton will recover soon.”
As the final act unfurled, Marcus was conscious of Olivia so close to him.
Olivia dropped her fan and they both bent to pick it up. His fingers brushed against hers in the darkness and for a moment, in the eerie illumination of the torches, his eyes met hers, and he could not pull away, imagining those cornflowers in that summer meadow.
At the end of the show, they left their box to find the theater director waiting outside to speak with Marcus as patron of the performance.
“Colin. I do apologize, can you take the ladies to their carriage. It seems that I am needed backstage. I’ll join you in a few minutes,” Marcus asked him.
“Of course. Ladies, let us find your carriage,” called Colin.
Marcus did not wish to leave Olivia. as he tried to work out what was happening to him. The connection between them strengthened each time they spent time together.
After meeting with the conductor and main performers he hurried to the foyer.
He stopped suddenly as a figure stepped in front of him, blocking his route forwards.
The figure bobbed a curtsy in greeting.Ah, Lady Cressida.
“Lord Hatfield. I’m so glad to see you again,” she gushed, looking around her in agitation. “I’ve lost Mama. Well, I can’t find her anywhere.” She sniffed, seemingly near to tears.
‘I’m sure she is here somewhere,” he reassured her, looking around in an attempt to locate Lady Cressida’s mother in the crowd.
“Please, My Lord, would you help me to the entrance of the theater. I think that’s where Mama will wait for me.”
He sighed inwardly, but in true gentlemanly fashion offered her his arm and guided her through the crowds to the foyer. As they made their way she stumbled and fell against him. One moment Lady Cressida was walking next to him, and the next her blond hair lay across his chest as she held on to both his arms in almost embracing him.
Oh for…
“Lady Cressida, are you hurt?” he asked, forcing himself to sound concerned.
“I don’t know. Oh Lord Hatfield, I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened,” she said, moving her head to look up at him, her arms still holding on to him tightly.
Marcus felt intoxicated for a second or two by the overpowering fragrance of jasmine and sweet vanilla. He breathed in the scent as the woman in his arms looked up at him making eye contact. Deep brown eyes, almost a shade of violet and black with huge, dilated pupils, looking into his.
He became aware of her fingers moving against his arm in an almost rhythmic pattern, and he forced himself to gently move her hands and help her to steady herself again. All this time her voice continued chattering in her high-pitched assault on his ears.
She’d asked him a question, but he had no idea what. “Lord Hatfield,” she laughed in that grating tone. “I don’t believe you were listening to me.”
“I do apologize,” he began, and to his relief noticed her mother just ahead of them.
