“Well, not if she couldn’t enjoy it. No.” Archer let out a soft laugh.
“Cora gave me this as we were leaving.” She held out a flask of whiskey to him. “She said it would help take the edge off.”
“I suspect she is probably right. We could use the distraction.” Archer took a swig from the flask, the liquid burning his throat pleasantly.
He handed it back to Lydia, who drank from it with such expertise that Archer could not help but be impressed. “I did not think you were a scotch drinker.”
“I am rather partial to it actually.” She shrugged. “Men are always rather impressed when you can drink like them. It gave me somewhat of a business advantage. Though right now, I don’t think it would. I can’t seem to stop shaking.”
“Are you cold?” He pulled her closer to him, feeling her stiffen and then relax into this touch. “I could give you my coat.”
“I suspect Cora would kill me if I ruined the lines of my dress.” Lydia laughed.
“She never has to know.” Archer grinned.
“Your sister always manages to find out. She is like Titania…. No, Oberon in that way. Oh, I wonder who is playing Oberon? You know, I heard that they were thinking of swapping the roles of Titania and Oberon, but then the players said it would not work. Though I think it would be interesting, it adds… Well, it would add an interesting dynamic to their relationship, don’t you think. Oh God. I’m rambling.”
“A little, but I quite like it.” Archer laughed. “It is so nice to see you speak so passionately about something you like. You seemed to be so taken in.”
For the past ten minutes or so, he had been twirling a small loose strand of hair dangling from the nape of her neck.
“Was I?” she breathed and glanced over her shoulder to see his arm resting against the back of the carriage and around her.
Archer dropped his hand, brushing a finger lightly down her arm, sending small shivers through his wife. His heart pounded in his ears as he leaned in.
“Your Grace,” the coachman shouted from his perch, startling the couple. “We’ve arrived.”
Archer smiled, even as he felt shakier than he would have liked. “We’re here.” He got out first and helped his wife out of the carriage.
The Duchess’ eyes grew wide as she took in the magnificent splendor of the Covent Garden.
“Wait till you see how it looks on the inside,” he whispered in her ear. She looked at him with wonder. The immense joy in her eyes could barely be contained as she grabbed his arm and tugged him toward the theater’s entrance. He could barely slow her down long enough to give the usher their tickets.
Inside was floor-to-ceiling seating, and multiple stories held multiple rows of chairs. Their usher brought them to a private box closest to the stage.
Archer quietly thanked the usher and provided gratuity. Lydia, however, was in her own little world as she looked over the balcony at the large stage and the many rows of seats just now starting to be filled in by the wealthy patrons.
A large man came out from behind the curtains. On stage, he stood before the crowd and called them to attention, “Lords and ladies,” the man cried. “Please, take your seats. We will begin shortly.”
The Duchess squealed in delight. She was giddy as a five-year-old who was told Father Christmas would be visiting them. His heart swelled, and he took a sip of whiskey to calm his jittering nerves.What is wrong with me?
As the curtains rose and the lights dimmed, he took her warm hand in his and gave it a squeeze. She squeezed his back.
Theseus strode onto the stage, a handsome man with a proud bearing. Lydia leaned against Archer, and he missed all of the man’s next lines as sensation flooded his body.
If anyone asked him how the play had been, he doubted he would be able to recount a single scene. He had become far too engrossed in Lydia’s reactions. How her lips parted in shock, how her hand grabbed his when passionate moments arose, or how she looked on intensely, not wanting to miss a moment of the spectacle.
It was so dark in the theater that only under the light glow of the stage did Archer revel in the joy on the Duchess’ face as the final act played out. As Oberon moved to Titania, he realized that his wife was mouthing the fairies’ words.
“My Oberon! What visions I have seen. Me thought I was enamoured of an ass!” Lydia looked at him, and he felt his heart stir at the mischief in her eyes. “If you ever played that kind of trick on me, I would be furious.”
“Then it is lucky I am no fairy King and that I do not have a taste for such assery.” He winked at her.
Lydia rolled her eyes, but a smile stole across her face. “And yet here you are, making terrible puns. If that does not make you an ass, then I don’t know what does.”
“Does this mean you are enamoured of me, dear lady?” He meant it to sound teasing, but his voice was breathless.
“In dreams, perhaps.” She nudged against him and then muttered, “Now shhh. I love this bit.”
