before too long. Their sort didn’t really care about the fate of the so-called lower classes.
Tom grinned at Teresa as he set her shawl around her shoulders. “I’ll arrange everything,” he said.
She suddenly suspected that he had already been doing so, on a larger scale than she’d realized.
Five
When the next day came, Arthur had doubts about the visit between a group of sheltered young ladies and the theater opera dancers. There seemed to be many ways it could go wrong. It seemed that Tom must know this, as he must have noticed that Señora Alvarez hadn’t been pleased to be named chaperone for the outing. Her face had shown that she was being drawn into a position she disliked.
Arthur had thought of trying to cancel the outing, but he didn’t think the young ladies would listen. Tom had known just what to say to rouse their interest. They would simply go anyway. In the end, Arthur could only send his roomiest carriage to make the rounds and fetch the feminine contingent while he and Compton walked together to the theater where Tom awaited them all.
At least the expedition was not unprecedented, Arthur thought as they strode through the London streets. The theater offered daytime tours, on formal application, to those interested in its inner workings. People were shown the wardrobe, the machinery above and below the stage, provisions for preventing and extinguishing fire. This would not be quite like that, of course, but it could be made to sound so if questions arose.
“Do you think this is a good idea?” asked the young man at his side as if he had read Arthur’s thoughts.
“I’m not certain,” he replied.
“Ada doesn’t really understand about opera dancers.”
“They are not thought a fit subject for young ladies.” Although Miss Julia Grandison’s attitude must have given even a stupid girl a strong hint. And these four were far from stupid.
“No.” The young duke frowned as they strode along. “Do you think I should have forbidden it?”
“Could you have?”
Compton considered. “If I really insisted on the point, I think Ada would do as I asked. Though she would want to know why, of course.” He hesitated. “Some say a husband should command his wife?”
This was more than half a question. “Some,” agreed Arthur. “And have you noticed that the men who declare that the loudest fail to see how little they actually do?”
The younger man looked confused. “So you don’t think it’s true?”
“I was drawn to my wife, Celia, by her beauty at first,” Arthur said. “But my interest was fixed when I discovered in her an intelligent, tender, sensible person. Why then would I ignore her opinions?”
“Ah. I like that. Why indeed?” They walked through a brief silence. “But doesn’t a man know more of the world?” Compton asked then.
“Parts of it. And of others, nothing.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Childbirth, for example. It is not thought ‘a fit subject’ for men, but it is surely one of the most important events of our lives.”
His companion looked even more bewildered.
“I think husbands and wives should consult each other and decide matters together,” Arthur added, hoping he didn’t sound pompous. “And there is this. What would you do if someone tried to command your every move?”
“Send them packing.”
“Precisely. And if you could not, because you had no power to do so, you might turn to deception. I’ve seen women pretend deference and behave outrageously on the sly.”
The young duke seemed shocked. The remainder of their walk passed in silence.
They reached the theater a few minutes before Arthur’s carriage pulled up in front of it. The ladies descended. Señora Alvarez looked…concentrated, as if the ride had not been entirely easy. Arthur had no doubt that she’d managed whatever had occurred, however. The sense of deep presence she possessed was unshaken and so much more than simple beauty. Today, she wore a somber gown and bonnet, the dress of a staid chaperone. He offered his arm. She took it. Her fingers seemed to warm his skin, even though this was impossible through the cloth of his coat. He looked down at her, but her gaze was directed at the theater door. They all went inside together and found Tom waiting like a thoughtful host.
“The place looks so different with no audience,” said Miss Moran as they walked into the vast interior. “Even emptier than it should be somehow.” They had some hours until the evening performance at seven.
“And without all the lights,” said Miss Ada Grandison. The powerful oil lamp that