“We wouldn’t have missed it. By the way, speaking of not missing it, I thought your father was coming, as well?” he remarked as he offered her his arm. Together, the four of them headed towards the theatre entrance.
Sylvia, ever the matchmaker, had already found a topic of conversation to engage the viscountess, leaving the two of them to converse with just each other.
“Oh, he has come with us. He went in to buy programs for us, and he is going to meet us in our box,” she explained.
“Well, I am glad he could come. Did you not say you have seen Così Fan Tutte before? Perhaps you could tell me what to expect,” he said, hoping to get her talking, so his own mind could process what had just happened with Georgiana.
“I couldn’t do that! That would spoil part of the enjoyment,” she quickly replied, unknowingly ruining his plan.
“Well, you can at least give me some hints as to what to watch for?”
“That much I can do,” she replied just as her father caught up with them.
“Ah, there you all are,” he said as he walked up to them. “Come now, it is about to start, and we don’t want to miss anything.” He gave the ladies the programs, then took his wife by the arm and walked ahead of them with her.
Miss Rutherford giggled lightly. “They both love attending the opera, and I think this may be one of their favorites,” she explained her parent’s behavior. “They attend almost every new performance.”
Walter inwardly gave up on the hope of being alone with his thoughts and focused on conversing with her. “And do you enjoy the theater, as well?”
“Yes, though not as much as my parents do. I am afraid my brothers are, for the most part, thoroughly sick of it. They attend occasionally, but not if they can avoid it. What about you, my lord? Do you enjoy opera?” she asked as they entered the box and took their places.
“It depends on what is being performed, but it makes for a nice diversion every now and then.”
He was spared from making further conversation as the musicians started to warm up. Soon, the audience hushed, and the overture began. The first scene opened in a coffeehouse with a group of officers talking to each other.
Unfortunately, the topic of the play soon shifted to the officers making a wager as to whether the women they were betrothed to would remain faithful if they were called away. This brought his thoughts back to himself and Georgiana.
He struggled for a while to concentrate, as the men pretended to leave and then went back in disguise to test the women they were betrothed to. However, his attention soon wandered from the opera…
Georgiana had been much more hostile than he had anticipated, though it was no more than he deserved. What bothered him most was the way Ambrose Rowley had looked at him.
He knew the two were close, and Rowley was, no doubt, feeling protective of her as her friend. But Walter felt there might be something more to it than that … he just didn’t know what.
He was pulled out of his thoughts when Miss Rutherford leaned towards him and whispered, “How are you enjoying the performance so far?”
He quickly surmised she had mistaken his quiet and thoughtful demeanor for attentiveness to the performance. Not wanting to be impolite, he put on a smile and replied, “I am finding it quite interesting. Perhaps you could tell me how it ends?”
“No,” she giggled in reply.
Knowing he would have to discuss the performance with her later, he did his best to concentrate on the remainder of it. He could ponder more about what to think about Rowley later.
While he could see why other people found it an enjoyable opera, he did not find the topic very appealing. After all, the whole play was essentially about flirting with others while your intended was away…
He was glad when the performance was finally over, clapping politely, but not enthusiastically, as the curtains were lowered. He stood along with the others in the box as they began to leave.
“Well? What did you think of it?” Miss Rutherford soon asked as she took his arm.
Though he was expecting to be asked such a question, he had to think for a moment on how to reply while still being polite. “It was very entertaining, and perhaps a little thought-provoking. I can see why you were so eager to see it again.”
This seemed to be a satisfactory reply, as she smiled up at him and enthusiastically nodded her head. “I agree! The first time I watched it, I could barely breathe as I waited to see what would happen next and wondered how far the men would take their wager.”
If he had been free to speak his mind, he would have remarked that it wouldn’t have held his attention even on a good day. However, saying something like that was out of the question.
One glance at the others showed his mother was engaging the viscount and viscountess in conversation. They were, no doubt, deliberately giving the young people some space to become better acquainted.
So, he tried to change the subject slightly by asking, “What is your favorite opera? I know you must have one.”
“My favorite tends to change too frequently. It depends upon what is being performed,” she admitted. “I would have to say that Così Fan Tutte is my favorite of the moment.”
“And what is your favorite part?” he asked, hoping she would not expect him to answer the same question. He couldn’t really say he liked any part of the opera.
“Oh, that is easy! I love the part near the end when the maid is disguised as a notary and the music signals the return of the officers. The hurry of the men to go and change out of their disguises only to come back in and pretend to be enraged is so humorous.”
“Well, we are drawing near your carriage,” he told her with an air of disappointment. They were actually still some distance away, but he considered them to be close enough to make such a statement. “Perhaps we should do this again when a new opera comes out?”
“Yes, we should, though … it will be a long while before that happens…” she told him, hinting none too subtly that she hoped to see him again long before then.
“Perhaps the day after tomorrow we could go for a ride if the weather is fine? It is certainly a lovely time of year, now the flowers are blooming.”
“That sounds perfect,” she replied, helping her into her carriage. “I look forward to seeing you then.”
He bowed and stepped back as the Burford carriage departed and left him and his mother standing. Offering her his arm, they headed towards their own carriage.
Sylvia seemed to understand her son was in a thoughtful mood, and did not ask him any questions, for which Walter was grateful. He still knew he had to apologize to Georgiana.
However, now he knew she didn’t want to talk with him, apologizing would be even more difficult. Then, there was the look on Mr. Rowley’s face to think about…