But Louisa was, of course, a woman, even if she hadn’t experienced any kind of sexual congress. She would soon, though. Much to Fletcher’s dismay.
Picturing her with Rotherfeld made Fletcher want to put his fist through a wall.
That was a new feeling. He didn’t know what to do with that, either.
The lights in the opera house came on and Louisa clapped delightedly. “This opera is a great deal of fun. The soprano has a voice like an angel. I’m glad we were able to come tonight.”
Fletcher had some regrets, but he said, “Yes, I agree.” He did generally like attending the opera, although he liked Louisa’s company more. And he wanted to get her off the topic of the actual opera, so he said, “Did you see Lady Winter’s hat? Do you think she plucked the feathers from anentirepeacock or…?”
Louisa laughed. “I think that might be an actual taxidermized peacock.”
Fletcher picked up his opera glasses and made a show of looking toward Lady Winter. The hat was quite ridiculous, although it did not look as though any birds had been grievously harmed in its construction. “I wonder if we could train a bird to sit on a hat and stay still until an opportune moment, at which point it would come alive and terrify everyone.”
“I have no doubt that if anyone could accomplish that, it’s you.”
“I know the opera is a serious and sober art, but I can’t help but think we could liven it up. Live animals, perhaps.”
“Oh, certainly. And then as soon as a horse gets spooked, he gallops off the stage and into the audience.”
“That certainly would have made that production ofLucio Sillawe saw last month. I think I slept through part of it.”
“It was a rather lackluster production. Tonight is much better. What did you think of the changes the librettist made?”
Well, devil take him. Fletcher had no idea what to say to that. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but he was blessedly saved by Lady Cheshire suddenly joining them in their box.
Lady Cheshire was another opera regular, one of Louisa’s friends, and the two women spent the rest of the intermission discussing the opera. Fletcher excused himself, walked up and down the hall outside the boxes, greeted various acquaintances, and managed to steal a feather from Lady Winter’s hat before he returned to the box to find Louisa and Lady Cheshire still discussing.
When the house lights dimmed to signal the second act was about to begin, Lady Cheshire excused herself to return to her seat. So Fletcher sat next to Louisa and said, “My lady, I have a gift.” Then he brandished the peacock feather.
“Fletcher, youdidn’t.”
“There was an excess of feathers in Lady Winter’s hat. I doubt she’ll miss this one.”
Louisa took the feather and secured it in her hair. “How do I look?”
“Breathtaking.” And she did look especially beautiful with that mischievous sparkle in her eye, but Fletcher had added a little mocking to his voice to not give himself away.
Louisa laughed. “I’m sure I look as ridiculous as Lady Winter’s hat. I shall try to ignore that you’re a thief.”
The second act didn’t go better than the first in terms of holding Fletcher’s attention. He could not make himself focus on the performance. About halfway through Act II, Fletcher gave up and watched Lady Louisa instead. Her attention seemed rapt on the performance, but at one point she turned toward him and whisper-hissed, “What?”
“Nothing. The feather is drooping a bit.”
Louisa plucked the feather from her hair and then slipped it through Fletcher’s cravat. Fletcher found his breath catching as her knuckles briefly tapped his skin.
Later, as Fletcher escorted Louisa back to his carriage, he supposed he’d done his job to not compromise Louisa in any way, feather-related shenanigans aside. He hadn’t so much as touched her while they’d been in the box, aside from that moment she’d touched him. And yet, he felt out of sorts.
“You’ve been quiet,” Louisa said on the ride back to her home.
She absently played with the peacock feather, slipping it through her fingers, and Fletcher was helpless not to watch her long, delicate fingers move.
There was traffic from the stream of people leaving the opera, so they were moving slowly. Fletcher glanced out the window and thought snails might make better time. They’d be in the carriage for a while, unfortunately, which meant Louisa would make Fletcher talk.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Suddenly my mind is on other things.La Cenerentolawas lovely, but I didn’t absorb all of it, I will admit. I’m afraid I don’t have much to say about it.”
“What other things?”
“Nothing of import. I just found myself becoming easily distracted by stray thoughts tonight. I apologize for not being more attentive.”
