“We will see,” Eva said, before Rebecca could clap her hands again.
“In the least, I hope you will avail yourselves of the headdresses and wraps in my wardrobe.”
Rebecca looked over, pleading with her eyes.
“We can hardly decline such generosity,” Eva said. Sarah meant well, and her cousin’s desire not to be seen with unfashionable country cousins probably had very little to do with the offer.
She told herself that again several times as the day unfolded. In particular, when they passed a milliner’s shop and Sarah insisted on going in and having Rebecca and her try on new bonnets with the latest brims, she repeated it to herself.
“You must have them,” Sarah exclaimed. “They will be perfect for tomorrow’s excursion to the park.”
Eva calculated their likely cost, and the wisdom of depleting the twenty pounds by that amount. Her bonnet, with its high crown and deep brim, brought a lot of attention to her eyes. She was starting to like her eyes. They appeared quite impressive looking out from this bonnet.
Rebecca removed her own and set it down. “We cannot afford new bonnets right now, Sarah. I do not mind wearing the ones I brought, if you do not mind my wearing them.”
“Of course! That is to say, I did not mean to— I had hoped to make it a gift to you, Rebecca. And you too, Eva.”
Eva smiled at Sarah. “You may make a gift to Rebecca if you like. I see no harm in that.” She untied the ribbons beneath her chin. “As for this one, I will think about purchasing it before I leave town.”
They left the shop a half hour later, with Rebecca giggling the way a girl should about her new bonnet. All the way home Sarah and Rebecca discussed the fashions they had seen on the streets and in the shops and on the fashion plates. Just talking about such finery had Rebecca alive and bright and more beautiful than ever.
“I regret that we do not have a box,” Sarah said that evening as her carriage carried them to the theater. “You look so lovely, Rebecca, that it is a shame you won’t be displayed in one.”
Rebecca did look lovely. Adorned in one of Sarah’s evening dresses—innocent white and with a neckline not too daring, and decorated most discreetly with fine cream embroidery—she would be the most lovely female in the theater, Eva was sure. Her sister’s beauty did not dim her approval of her own appearance. She wore the silver silk and a feathered headdress from Sarah’s collection, along with high kid gloves taken from the chest of her mother’s old finery.
They took seats in the orchestra, but in front rows reserved for the privileged. The rowdier elements of society could be heard behind them, priming their voices to shout approval or not of the entertainment to come. Young men of all stations roamed in little packs, admiring the women up in the boxes and staring more boldly at the ones in the chairs below. Rebecca, seated between Sarah and Eva, attracted a great deal of attention. From her serene expression, she appeared not to notice.
They attended without Sarah’s husband, who had a business dinner that night, and in their excitement had arrived early. The seat beside Eva’s remained unclaimed as the time for the performance neared. Suddenly, however, a man’s form stood in front of it. Eva was talking to Sarah and merely noticed someone there out of the corner of her eye.
“Mr. Fitzallen!” Rebecca’s head popped up from their têtê-a-têtê and her gaze aimed to her left. “Look who is here, Eva.”
Eva did not look right away. First she saw Sarah do so, with widening eyes. She also waited while her own face flushed so hotly she feared it would be visible to all, despite the cool gaslight in the theater.
Finally she turned her attention to the man who had last seen her half-naked.
“Miss Russell.” He bowed. “Miss Rebecca Russell. What a surprise to chance upon you here.”
“Yes, a big surprise,” Eva managed. “Your journey is completed then?”
“I arrived back this morning and decided to come to town for the evening. The opportunity for good music drew me.”
Eva introduced Sarah and explained she and Rebecca were visiting her cousin for a few days.
“Are you with friends, Mr. Fitzallen?” Sarah asked. “Please join us if you are not.”
“Thank you. That is a generous offer. I think I shall.”
And with that Eva found him in the chair next to hers, just as the musicians came out.
The theater hardly hushed, but the din decreased. Gareth chatted with Sarah, his body angling in that direction so that it almost touched Eva’s. Rebecca squinted at the stage, waiting for the performance to begin. Sarah told Gareth about her husband’s business.
Finally the music began, and the singer came out to warble her operatic program. Gareth straightened and looked forward. Sarah’s head met Eva’s in front of Rebecca’s chest.
“Who is this gentleman?”
Eva knew Sarah meant what is this gentleman, as in what was his pedigree and wealth. “He is the bastard son of Aylesbury.”
“No!”
