She was already nodding. “That’s an excellent idea. Especially as, once we leave, we won’t be back until early March, if not later.”
“Indeed. And with the exhibition entering its final week, most visitors to the capital, and many Londoners, too, are flocking there, so with luck, the zoo won’t be overly crowded.”
“I agree.” She turned to look at him. “When were you thinking of going?”
He shrugged lightly and met her gaze. “Are you doing anything tomorrow morning?”
“Thursday morning…” She frowned as if mentally consulting a diary, then her face cleared. “I have nothing I absolutely need to attend.” After a second, she added, “We could go early—say at ten o’clock—and be back for a late luncheon. That way, we’ll be able to keep our afternoon appointments.”
He nodded. “Good. That’s settled, then. We’ll leave at ten o’clock.” He smoothly rolled on, “And the other subject on which I wished to consult you was whether you would like to attend the opera on Friday evening.”
She stared at him. “This Friday?”
He nodded. “The chance of a box on that night has come my way, and I wondered if you would be interested in viewing the current production.”
The expression of stunned wonder that filled her face was all and more than he’d hoped for.
Therese could barely believe her ears. Indeed, she felt compelled to clarify, “You are talking of the Vienna Opera’s performance of William Tell to be held at the Royal Italian Opera House in Covent Garden? The one that was all but immediately sold out from the moment it was announced—that’s the performance you’re referring to?”
“So I believe—Friday evening at the Royal Italian Opera House in Covent Garden.”
She expelled the breath she’d been holding. “Good Lord! How on earth did you manage to secure tickets, let alone a box? Most of London’s hostesses would kill for a box.”
Her exasperating husband grinned at her. “I take it that’s a yes?”
“That’s a Good Lord Almighty yes!” Still stunned, she stared at him. “I can’t believe you snagged a box. How did you manage it?”
He shrugged lightly and looked ahead. “A friend of a business acquaintance has reason to want to butter me up. You know how it goes.”
She did. She sat back against the seat and, as the carriage rolled smoothly through the park gates and turned onto Park Lane, marveled at such a remarkable stroke of good fortune. Unable to stop smiling, she envisioned the event, then cast a curious glance at Devlin. “Do you plan on attending?”
Attending the opera was by no means his favorite pastime, but occasionally, he accompanied her, more to show his face and connect with other gentlemen than from any wish to experience a performance.
He tilted his head and appeared to weigh the matter, then slowly nodded. “Given the chance came via a business associate, I suspect it will be politic to be there myself, to demonstrate that I appreciate the opportunity directed my way.”
That made sense. As they rolled through the open gates of Alverton House, Therese reflected that, regardless of his reasons for accompanying her, the prospect of having him by her side added an extra fillip to her already soaring expectations of the evening.
The following morning dawned fine and clear, with a brisk breeze swirling the fallen leaves in Regent’s Park.
By the time Devlin and Therese guided their brood through the ornate wrought iron gates of the Zoological Gardens, the sun had been up for some time and, although weak, together with the breeze had managed to dry the gravel and the grass verges bordering the paths.
As usual, Spencer and Rupert ran ahead, closely but unobtrusively shadowed by Dennis, the footman. With Nanny Sprockett and Patty, one of the nursemaids, Dennis had been brought along to help shepherd the children.
Little Horry had insisted on walking and was toddling along, clutching Therese’s hand. Devlin strolled beside his daughter, smiling as he watched his sons make a beeline for the camel enclosure.
The zoo had opened to the public only four years ago, but from that time, Devlin and Therese had made a point of taking the children there at least twice a year, and it had become one of the boys’ most anticipated excursions. There were thirty or so exhibits, but the boys, of course, had their favorites. The camels, the lions and tigers, the giraffes, and the elephants were always on their must-see list.
After duly pausing to admire the camels, they walked on, skirting the large enclosure that housed a flock of pelicans. Abruptly, Horry stopped, drew her hand from Therese’s, and clapped excitedly, then she chortled and rushed to press her little face to the bars.
Therese crouched beside Horry and peered at the little girl’s rapt expression.
Horry pointed at the pelicans. “Birdies! Birdies!”
Therese smiled. “Yes, sweetheart. Big white birds.”
Devlin leaned down and, when Horry looked excitedly at him, smiled. “They’re called pelicans.”
Horry screwed up her little mouth and managed, “Peri-cans.” When Devlin’s smile deepened, she looked back at the birds and pointed. “Peri-cans! Peri-cans!”
Therese laughed, rose, and held out her hand. “Yes, indeed. And you can keep looking at them as we walk along, but we need to catch up with your brothers.”
Horry’s rosebud lips formed an O, and she obediently let Therese take her hand and lead her on. Horry searched the paths ahead, plainly looking for her siblings. “Where?”
Devlin, who had kept the boys in sight, reached down and took Horry’s other hand. “They’re looking at the lions and tigers in their cages.” He pointed. “Can you see them?”
Horry’s little face looked worried, but then she spotted Spencer and Rupert, and her expression lit. Then she stopped, tugged her hands free, faced Devlin, and held up her arms. “Up! Up!”
Smiling, he dutifully scooped her up and settled her in his arms. He’d known that was coming. Not only could she see better from that vantage point, but Horry wasn’t all that enamored with the lions and tigers, who occasionally roared.
She jigged in his arms as he carried her along, but when they approached the cages, she quieted and leaned against his chest. He halted several yards behind his sons. The boys were standing a few feet from the brick base of the main cage and staring in wonder at the large male lion prowling back and forth on the other side of the bars.
With Horry tucking her head beneath his chin, Devlin glanced at Therese.
She smiled, patted Horry, then went forward to crouch between Spencer and Rupert and talk to them about the big cats.
With his arms full of the soft weight of his daughter, Devlin watched Therese and his sons and felt richly satisfied. He’d suggested the outing in order to distract Therese from thinking too much about the opera tomorrow night, specifically about how, at such a late date, he came by a box for an event that had been sold out for so long and for which many among the ton remained fervently eager to snap up any stray tickets.
Therese rose and, with the boys, moved to the next cage, where a tiger snoozed, barely deigning to open one eye. Devlin smiled as Rupert—the tigers were his favorite—started to explain something to Therese, and she listened with encouraging interest. He was pleased his diversion was working and also because it was a pleasant interlude in the family’s otherwise structured ton existence.