“Good Lord,” Sophie whispered when they stepped into the Monmouth box. It was stunning in green baize and gold-tooled leather. There was elegance and opulence everywhere her eyes fell.
“My brother loved coming here,” Letty said.
“It’s beautiful,” Sophie added, moving to the edge. Bracing her hands, she looked around her, eager to take it all in.
There were multiple tiers of boxes, and all looked down to the pit below that had curved bench seating. A stage was to her right and close. They would have an excellent view of the performance. “It’s amazing.”
“I knew you’d enjoy it,” Letty said, taking a seat.
Enormous chandeliers threw out light along with wall sconces. The place was alive with noise and color.
“I never thought I’d see such a sight,” Sophie said, smiling at Letty. For tonight, she would focus on this and nothing else. Tomorrow she would worry again about Lord Coulter and whoever had sent her that note.
She sat beside Letty, who was waving to people, and let her eyes wander. Sophie saw familiar faces and others she didn’t know, some chatting, others taking it all in. A box that seemed full of women caught her attention. They were laughing with one another. The breath lodged in her throat as two men joined them. Lord Coulter and Lord Sumner.
She felt that little jolt at seeing him there, yet why should she when he had more right to attend than Sophie did?
A woman, older than the others, stepped close and hugged him. He was smiling when she released him. It was genuine, like the one he’d given Timmy that day in the tea shop.
“Letty, who is that?” she asked.
“Who, dear?”
“There.” Sophie pointed across the theatre. “That box filled with blond women, one of which is hugging the earl?”
“Ah, Lady Sumner.” Letty smiled. “She is Viscount Sumner’s mother, and the three young ladies standing with her are his sisters. She’s a lovely lady. I will introduce you in the interval, dear,” she added, patting Sophie’s hand. “Lord Coulter has been friends with Lord Sumner since they were children, so he is almost part of their family.”
Beatrice arrived then with her nephew, Mr. Tilton. Sophie had met him before and liked him. A shy man but pleasant enough.
“Would you care for a drink, Countess?”
“No, thank you, Mr. Tilton.” She never drank in public because she needed to always keep her wits about her while navigating society.
“Is this your first trip to the theatre this season, Countess?”
“It is, Mr. Tilton, and I have to say, it is exciting.”
“My first time was like that. Often the most enjoyable part is watching the antics going on below,” he said.
“Really?”
“Oh yes. No one is actually quiet for the performance.”
Mr. Tilton told her stories then that had Sophie laughing while they waited for the performance to start. He had a dry humor and a sweet way about him that made her comfortable. She fought the urge to look for Lord Coulter again and hoped they did not come in contact with each other tonight. She’d be safe if she stayed in here with Letty, so that’s what she’d do.
CHAPTER 13
Patrick rolled his eyes as Stephen mimicked Mr. Gibson’s lisping drawl into his ear as they entered the Coulter box.
“’Tith thorely a beatific day, my lordths.”
“’Tis a most unbecoming trait to find fault in others when your own are so vast,” Patrick said, searching the other boxes and fooling himself thinking he was looking for anyone but her. He instantly stopped and focused on his friend.
Is she here tonight?
“I’m not sure why my mother insists on a friendship with that man,” Stephen said. “Gibson is an idiot.”
“Just like her son,” Patrick said.
