Page 18 of Love Unraveled
“I will,” Gaston said smoothly, and Sophia knew, until this moment, he’d not had plans for the theater.
“Wonderful.” Catherine clapped her hands much like her aunt had been doing earlier.
“Please join us in our box,” Elizabeth said, her eyes dancing merrily.
“It would be my pleasure.”
The three of them chatted amiably for another minute, and Gaston departed after kissing an unwilling Sophia’s gloved hand. It was all she could do not to yank it free. She hated that he had bested her.
“Oh, Sophia, wherever have you been hiding him?” Catherine said excitedly after he left.
Hiding? She smiled mysteriously and flapped her fan playfully. If they only knew!
Chapter Twelve
Above all else, guard your heart,
for everything you do flows from it.
—Proverbs 4:23 (New International Version)
Sophia’s penchant forsweets won out, and she helped herself to a third cake. She, Catherine, and Elizabeth were in Sophia’s morning room, the gossip from a soiree they attended the night before as delicious as the rout cake. She must remember to thank Monsieur André. He always put in more sugar and currants than was necessary, and she adored him for it. She should consider bringing him to the country to cook for her there as well.
“It is an odd world we live in.” Catherine let her pronouncement dangle while she took a sip of tea. “A riot at the theater; who would have thought such a thing could happen?”
The old fear rose in Sophia’s throat and pounded in her head. A riot? Her mother’s face flashed through her mind, and she blinked, trying to erase it.
“It is truly ridiculous,” Catherine said. “Apparently, it was difficult to tell who were the actors and who was the audience. The stage was completely overtaken.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “Oh no.”
“Oh yes,” Catherine said, her laugh breaking through Sophia’s dread.
Sophia took another bite of the cake, trying to regain focus on the here and now. It stuck in her dry throat, and she grabbed her tea to wash it down. Catherine continued, and Sophia was relieved neither of them had noticed her momentary distress. For it was temporary. She had put those demons to bed long ago.
“Yes, Nicholas read me the account this morning. The actors playing dead soldiers got up and fought in earnest, the band fled, and that terrible actor… I’ve forgotten his name?”
“Mr. Coates,” Elizabeth supplied, and Catherine continued, now with Sophia’s full attention.
“Yes, that’s it. Apparently, Mr. Coates had his finest hour onstage and managed to garner everyone’s attention, calming things a bit. But it didn’t last. Eventually, they drove him from the stage. Real soldiers arrived, and those sitting in their boxes had a grand time trying to sort out who was who, wagering on how it would all end.”
“And how did it end?” Elizabeth asked, joining Catherine in laughter.
“With no show. The company departed, and by midnight everyone was leaving the theater.” Catherine wiped at her eyes, still giggling.
“But what caused such a disturbance?” Sophia was now fully recovered and certain her friends had noticed nothing. She forced a smile at her friends’ amusement but mentally cursed Gaston once again. She’d not been haunted by her past in a long time. There could be no other reason than his return.
“It was all because Madame Catalini refused to perform. Apparently, she has not been paid for past performances and will not set foot on the stage until she is recompensed.”
“Then she is in the right, no?” Sophia did not like to see people taken advantage of, especially women.
“Oh, of course,” Catherine said agreeably. “But surely the audience had other recourses than to create such chaos? They simply could have refused to attend until she was paid.”
“This is true.” Sophia thought about her options and choices in life. “But sometimes which path to choose is only clear when we look behind,mia amica.” She could tell by the look on her friends’ faces she had said too much. “Do you think we will get such a good show tomorrow?” she asked, trying to divert them from dwelling on her words.
“I’m afraid not,” Catherine said, making a face. “There will be no performance ofLa caccia di Enrico IV. It’s been canceled.”
Sophia pouted in an effort to suppress a smile. Gaston presumed he’d won the last round, but it seemed she would be the one to triumph after all.
