They walked in silence until they arrived at a door flanked by two young men in matching silver-and-green outfits. They opened the doors, and Cordon led Kitty into a box facing the stage.
The sight was so unlike anything she had ever experienced that she gasped and spun in a circle, taking in the gilt-gold furnishings and the flickering lights high above, like stars. There were hundreds of people in the seats below, tiny figures from her vantage point. Bitterness filled her mouth. Was this how it felt to be privileged?
“It is all ours tonight,” Cordon said.
There was no small amount of humor in his voice, which made her cheeks burn. She stepped back from the railing and carefully maneuvered her bell-shaped skirt into her seat. It was unusually far back. So much so that she could hardly see the stage.
He joined her, and immediately, one of the footmen who had been flanking the doors came to stand beside him.
“Two glasses of champagne,” Cordon said. “You can leave the bottle as well.”
The man bobbed his head and vanished.
Kitty grinned. To be served in their seats! It was so efficient, although she couldn’t help but feel as if she didn’t deserve this kind of treatment. Cordon might have been used to it, but it was foreign to her. She hadn’t been to the opera since her mother had received a rare invitation to accompany her mother’s baronet cousin to a production a decade earlier.
The champagne arrived on a silver salver. She picked up her glass and sipped it. The bubbles raced down her throat and made her giggle. As pleased as she was to be sitting in a private box, drinking expensive champagne, preparing to watch a show, she couldn’t stop thinking about why Cordon had invited her.
How was attending the opera in any way scandalous for him? It was a common activity for men of his status. There were hundreds of people present, all sitting in their seats, waiting for the show to begin. It was about as risqué as promenading in the park.
No, he had to have something else planned.
She touched her fingers to her lips, remembering how he had kissed her. He’d elicited a heady pleasure that had made her knees weak. At once, she both wished he would do it again and hoped he wouldn’t. The former because she’d twisted and turned in her narrow bed the previous night, imagining what other manner ofscandalousthings he would want to do with her, and the latter because he was a distraction. She had never planned on marrying and had no need of a man, especially one who would only ever want her as a mistress. Despite knowing he was paying her far more than she’d earn from plying her trade, her hands itched to return to her work.
“How is it?” he asked.
She stared at him. “What?”
He lifted one eyebrow and pointed to her hand, holding the nearly full glass. She hurriedly brought it to her lips and drained it, then set it down on the salver and turned back to the stage. “Exquisite.”
The lights dimmed then, and a hush came over the crowd. She swallowed heavily and kept her hands clasped tightly in her lap. But as the orchestra started up and the curtain came apart, she could not relax. She normally would have enjoyed the experience, but instead, she fidgeted, wishing he would moveor say something. When an uneventful hour passed, she settled back in her seat with a resigned sigh. It seemed the kiss in her shop had represented the extent of his interest.
Then he nudged her elbow. “Look, there.”
She followed his pointing finger to a box across from them and caught a flash of bare skin.
It couldn’t have been.
She put her forearms on the railing and peered closer before realizing she had opera glasses. The other box was close to the stage, so no one needed to know what she was looking at. She put the glasses to her face and gasped.
Two naked masked figures were twined together inamorous congress. The woman, wearing a mask of gold leaves, was on her knees. The man, who had a matching mask in silver, stood behind Gold with his hands clasped on her hips.
Kitty bit her lip but could not look away. Silver thrust with increasing speed, making Gold’s large breasts sway.
“Spectacular,” Cordon whispered.
Kitty’s pulse raced. Was that what he wanted? A single kiss in her shop did not mean she was ready to engage in such an act, especially in public.
Furthermore, how was no one raising a fuss? If she could see the figures, then others could too. But she heard no murmurs or gasps. It was as if the display she’d witnessed had been for her and Cordon alone.
“May I touch you?” he asked. “Bringing a woman pleasure in an opera box is an item on my list.”
The bubbling inside her that had started with the champagne intensified, and she answered without thinking. “Yes.”
A hand landed on her thigh right above her knee. The position of their seats suddenly made sense. They would be far less visible than the couple in silver and gold.
She swallowed thickly but moved her own hands out of her lap to drape over the seat, giving him more access. With all the layers of her skirt, she felt only the slightest pressure of his fingers creeping toward the part of her that wanted his touch most of all.
“Shall I continue?” he whispered.
