"Why not?"
"Because the box they use is mine," Julian explained wryly as they made their way through the glittering crowd.
"Oh, I see. A convenient arrangement."
"Fanny has always thought so. It has saved her the cost of purchasing one of her own."
Sophy glanced at him. "You do not mind her using it, do you?"
Julian grinned. "No. She is one of the few members of the family I can tolerate for any length of time.
A few minutes later Julian escorted her into a plushly appointed box, well situated amid the five tiers of similar private boxes. Sophy sat down and gazed in fascination out over the great horseshoe auditorium. It was filled with bejeweled ladies and elegantly dressed men. Down in the pit, fops and dandies of all stripes were strolling about, showing off the extremes of fashion they favored. The sight of their ludicrously outrageous clothing made Sophy realize she took a secret pleasure in Julian's preference for subdued, conservatively cut garments.
It soon became apparent, however, that the real spectacle of the evening was not taking place down in the pits or on stage, but rather in the fashionable boxes.
"It's like looking at five tiers of miniature stages," Sophy exclaimed in laughing amusement. "Everyone is dressed to be on display and busy studying everyone else to see who is wearing what jewels and who is visiting whom in a box. I cannot see why you find the opera boring, Julian, with so much going on here in the audience."
Julian leaned back in his velvet chair and cocked a brow as he looked out over the auditorium. "You have a point, my dear. There is certainly more action up here than there is down on the stage."
He studied the rows of theater boxes in silence for a long moment. Sophy followed his gaze and saw it hesitate briefly on one specific box where a stunningly garbed woman held court amid several male admirers. Sophy watched her for a moment, suddenly curious about the attractive blond who seemed to be the center of much attention.
"Who is that woman, Julian?"
"Which woman?" Julian asked absently, his gaze moving on to survey the other boxes.
"The one in the third tier wearing the green gown. She must be very popular. She appears to be surrounded by men. I don't see any other women in the box."
"Ah, that woman," Julian glanced back briefly. "You need not concern yourself with her, Sophy. You are highly unlikely to meet her socially."
"One never knows, does one?"
"In this instance, I am quite certain."
"Julian, I cannot stand the mystery. Who is she?"
Julian sighed. "One of the Fashionable Impures," he explained in a tone that said he found the subject distinctly boring. "There are many here tonight. The boxes are their shop windows, so to speak."
Sophy's eyes widened. "Real ladies of the demimonde? They keep boxes here at King's Theatre?
"As I said, the boxes make excellent show cases for their, uh, wares."
Sophy was amazed. "But it must cost a fortune to take a box for the season."
"Not quite, but it is definitely not cheap," he admitted. "I believe the demireps see it as a business investment."
Sophy leaned forward intently. "Point out some of the other Fashionable Impures, Julian. I swear, one certainly cannot tell them apart from the ladies of quality just by looking at them, can one?"
Julian gave her a short, charged glance that was half-amused and half-rueful. "An interesting observation, Sophy. And in many cases, an accurate one, I fear. But there are a few exceptions. Some women have an unmistakable air of quality and it shows regardless of how they are dressed."
Sophy was too busy studying the boxes to notice the intent look he was giving her. "Which are the exceptions? Point one or two out, will you? I would dearly love to see if I can tell a demirep from a Duchess at a glance."
"Never mind, Sophy. I have indulged your lamentable curiosity enough for one evening. I think it's time we changed the subject."
"Julian, have you ever noticed how you always change the subject just as the conversation is getting particularly interesting?"
"Do I? How ill-mannered of me."
"I do not think you are the least bit sorry about your manners. Oh, look, there's Anne Silverthorne and her grandmother." Sophy signaled her friend with her fan and Anne promptly sent back a laughing acknowledgment from a nearby box. "Can we go and visit in her box, Julian?"
"Between acts, perhaps."
"That will be fun. Anne looks lovely tonight, doesn't she? That yellow dress looks wonderful with her red hair."
"Some would say the dress is cut a bit too low for a young woman who is not married," Julian said, slanting a brief, critical glance at Anne's gown.
"If Anne waits until she is married to wear a fashionable gown, she will wait forever. She has told me she will never wed. She holds the male sex in very low esteem and the institution of marriage does not attract her at all."
Julian's mouth turned down. "I suppose you met Miss Silverthorne at my aunt's Wednesday salons?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact, I did."
"Judging by what you have just told me, I am not at all certain she is the sort of female you should be associating with, my dear."
"You are probably quite right," Sophy said cheerfully. "Anne is a terrible influence. But I fear the damage is already done. We have become close friends, you see, and one does not abandon one's friends, does one?"
"Sophy—"
"I am quite certain you would never turn your back on your friends. It would not be honorable."
Julian gave her a wary look. "Now, Sophy—"
"Do not alarm yourself, Julian. Anne is not my only friend. Jane Morland is another recent acquaintance of mine and you would no doubt approve of her. She is very serious-minded. Very much the voice of reason and restraint."
"I am relieved to hear it," Julian said. "But, Sophy, I must advise you to be as careful in choosing your female friends as you are in selecting your male ones."
"Julian, if I were as cautious in my friendships as you would have me, I would lead a very solitary existence, indeed. Either that, or I would be bored to death by some very dull creatures."
"Somehow I cannot imagine such a situation."
"Neither can I." Sophy glanced around, searching for a distraction. "I must say, Fanny and Harry are very late. I do hope they are all right."
"Now it is you who is changing the subject."
"I learned the technique from you." Sophy was about to continue in that vein when she became aware that the striking blond courtesan in the green gown was looking straight at her across the expanse of space that separated the boxes.
For a moment Sophy simply gazed back curiously, intrigued by the other woman's forthright stare. She started to ask Julian once more what the woman's name was but a sudden loud commotion in the gallery made it clear the opera was about to begin. Sophy forgot about the woman in green and gave her attention to the stage.
The curtain behind Sophy parted during the middle of the first act and she glanced around, expecting to see Fanny and Harry bustling into the box but the visitor was Miles Thurgood. Julian casually waved him to a seat. Sophy smiled at him.
"I say, Catalani is in fine form tonight, isn't she? Miles leaned forward to murmur in Sophy's ear. "Heard she had a flaming row with her latest paramour just before she came on stage. Word has it she dumped a chamber pot over his head. Poor fellow is due to perform in the next act. One hopes he'll be able to get cleaned up in time."
Sophy giggled, ignoring Julian's disapproving glare. "How did you hear that?" she whispered to Miles.