Lady Colston objected to the idea of "dining out" at a restaurant, calling it vulgar, verging on obscene. Archibald ignored the objection. Olivia was surprised to be invited, even more surprised that she had been invited on Harry De Rosier's suggestion. She held no prejudices against restaurants — especially not the Bowen which had a reservation list of New York's elite that was filled up months in advance. She tried to explain the Bowen's reputation for only serving the finest of New York society to her mother, but Lady Colton would hear none of it.

The Honorable Lady was left at home with her dignity intact and Archibald and Olivia headed to the restaurant alone.

The Bowen wasn't far from their new home uptown. It was on a quiet, tree-lined street in a three-story, brick building, with large windows in front that were lit with an inviting glow. They stepped out of their carriage, and from the sidewalk, they could see into the restaurant. Olivia watched as people without coveted reservations passed the brightened windows and craned their necks to get a glimpse of who sat at the tables within.

Inside, Olivia found nothing of the "vulgarity" her mother had believed would be found at a public restaurant. Instead, she found women and gentlemen, many of which were closer to her mother's age than her own, at tables covered in white linens. She was glad she'd thought to wear her pale blue, beaded silk Worth gown otherwise she would have been underdressed.

Two unfamiliar gentlemen in coattails stood when they entered the dining room, but Archibald seemed to recognize them. He introduced them to Olivia in turn. The first was a Mr. Conrad Turner. Upon closer inspection, she found the salt-and-pepper-haired man wore a dark magenta jacket trimmed in black satin. He gave her a warm greeting but tugged on his jacket as if he sensed her gaze. She wanted to tell him that she liked it, but she was swept into a greeting by his silver-haired companion.

"This is Mr. Jasper Green—" Archibald started to say.

"Jasper Green, genius producer and director of Operas," Jasper cut in before placing a kiss on Olivia's hand. Unlike his conspicuous friend, he wore a black dinner ensemble.

Olivia suppressed a giggle. "It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Green."

He tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow and guided her to a seat at their table. Archibald took the seat across from Olivia and Jasper took the seat to her right.

"Are we just waiting for Mr. De Rosier?" Archibald asked.

"Yes," Mr. Turner said, "But we might have to wait awhile. He tends to runs on his own schedule. I told the waiter not to wait for him—he'll join us in whichever course he can."

A card was placed on the plate before Olivia, which listed the chef's courses for their evening. As they waited for their first course, she glanced around the lavish dining room. The walls of dark, paneled wood with low-lit gas fixtures wrapped the guests in a feeling of seclusion—even though they share the room with a great number of couples. Despite the din of voices, Olivia felt as if she might have been at her own dining table.

"Has your brother shown you the theater he's invested in?" Mr. Green asked.

Olivia smiled politely. "No, but I've heard it's beautiful." She'd told herself over and over that she wouldn't take interest in any of the goings-on in New York. Anything that would make leaving difficult was off limits including Archibald's pet projects, and especially Harry De Rosier. But she knew she couldn't help herself when it came to the theater. With a glance at Archibald, a wry smile on his lips confirmed his scheme to win her to his side.

"And what opera shall you perform for the opening, Mr. Green?" she asked, attempting to sound disinterested.

Mr. Green smiled. "We are performing a brand new operetta called 'The Sorcerer of the Seine.'"

"You must tell her all about it," Archibald said, with a wicked grin. "I know nothing of Light Operas, but Livie is a devoted fan."

Olivia scowled at him, but was forced to recover her composure as Mr. Green asked, "Are you familiar with the show?"

"I'm not."

"Of course not!" Mr. Green waved a hand through the air, nearly toppling a glass of water. "It's a brand new show."

"What's it about?" Olivia asked against her better judgment.

The Scotsman leaned into her as if he was telling her a great secret. "Imagine Paris at the height of the monarchy — the story opens upon a great sorcerer who lives on an island in the seine. The troubled citizens of France, rich and poor, all come to the sorcerer's island, begging him to solve their problems with his mystifying magical spells. Then, a kind and beautiful courtesan comes to his island. She is destined for the court of Louis the Fourteenth, but in becoming the King's official consort, she must leave her childhood love behind. She begs the sorcerer to take her heart away so she won't feel the heartbreak, but you see, the sorcerer had already fallen in love with the courtesan."

"Oh dear," Olivia said as she found herself enthralled with the story.

"Indeed, but it was much worse than just that. When the fairy bestowed magic upon the sorcerer, she made him swear he would help anyone who sought out his assistance. If he didn't, there would be great consequences. The sorcerer refuses the courtesan her request, and she flees, vowing to find the magic for herself. Then the fairy visits the sorcerer and tells him that he must take the courtesan's heart or Paris will be destroyed by magic. So the sorcerer follows the courtesan to the King's court, but so does her childhood love, and the fairy. As you can imagine drama, comedy, and twists of fate follow—"

Mr. Turner cut in. "Yes, but the real drama is that we still don't have anyone to play our courtesan."

"The auditions didn't go well?" Archibald asked.

"No," Mr. Green answered. "She's a country girl turned courtesan so our actress will need to have a regal bearing, but she will also need to have a special spark of ferocity to her. All the actresses had a regal bearing, but not a single one had even a lick of ferocity."

At this part of the conversation, Harry De Rosier swept into the room. Olivia wasn't sure if the entire room silenced at his entrance, or if it was just in her mind that all conversations fell away. He took the seat next to her.

"I hope I didn't miss anything," he said, spreading a napkin over his knee. "I took a peek at the reservation book and the Vanderbergs are coming in tonight."

"You haven't missed a thing," Archibald said with a look Olivia didn't quite understand. "Though I'm impressed you made it close to on time."

Mr. De Rosier only smiled in reply.

"We were just discussing the show," Mr. Green said.

"—and the disappointing auditions we had to witness this afternoon," Mr. Turner cut in.

"Certainly not!" Harry De Rosier said. "Was no one right for the part of the courtesan?"

"Not a single one. And on top of that Mrs. Hodges chased away another costumer," Mr. Turner said.

At this, Mr. Green launched into a diatribe against American tailoring. Olivia expected Mr. De Rosier to come to his own defense since corsetry fell under the umbrella of tailoring, but instead, he looked at her. She opened her mouth to say something—anything—but she lost the ability to form words under his discerning gaze. "Mr. De Rosier..." was all she could say before her lungs gave out.

His brows pushed together as if he puzzled over some difficult mathematics in his head. "Miss Colston," he said. "That is a beautiful gown. From the House of Worth?"

"Thank you," she said, breathless. "But I believe you are called defend your honor at this time. Mr. Green seems to believe that a monkey with a needle and shears could put together a better three-piece suit than an American."

"Mr. Green has no idea what he's talking about," De Rosier said. "But I would be remiss if I didn't take a moment to tell you how..." He paused and tore his gaze from her.

Olivia's stomach flipped and somersaulted as she waited in agony for what he had to say. She thought she saw a blush on his cheeks, but the light was too dim, and considering her deep affection for the man, there was a great possibility she had imagined it.

"—how I admire your taste in dresses," De Rosier finally said, but he said it hurriedly as if he regretted having to say it all.

Olivia's stomach sank as he looked around her to engage Mr. Green in a heated discussion of American tailoring. He admired her taste in dresses. Yes, that was not the compliment she had hoped to receive for Harry De Rosier. But as she found her lovesick heart thudding achingly in her chest, she remembered her resolve to find a way back to England. Harry De Rosier was not part of that plan — marrying a gentleman with English connections was. A full-blooded English gentleman would be preferable.

The first course was set before them and gave the party temporary reprieve to De Rosier and Green's discussion. Halfway through their bowls of Mock Turtle Soup, Archibald paused with his spoon halfway to his mouth. "You know..." he said, lowering his spoon to his bowl. "I've just had a thought: what if Harry did the costumes for the show?"

Mr. Green gave a loud "ha" that turned the heads of several diners. "I hate to be one to state the obvious, but designing ladies' underthings is a lot different from designing costumes for the stage."

Mr. Turner drummed his fingers on his chin, but he didn't look quite so scandalized as Mr. Green— he looked like he was actually considering the idea. "That could be interesting..." he mused.

"Of course," Archibald said. "You yourself said that we need something to draw in the crowds. A guest costume designer would certainly pique interest, and if it's Harry who's already a sensation with the ladies of New York, people are sure to come."

Harry De Rosier only smiled bashfully at his soup. He looked almost uncomfortable with being a sensation and having such a great amount of attention thrown in his direction. The selfish part of Olivia's heart wished he wasn't such a source of fascination, but she pushed the silly notion aside. She'd only heard of his talent second-hand, but she was suddenly overcome with the desire to support him in the scheme.

"You could put one of the costumes in the front window of the theater with Mr. De Rosier's name above it," Olivia suggested. "To draw interest, perhaps?"

"A brilliant idea, Livie," Archibald said. "Then people would see the De Rosier name and the costume — it's a wonderful idea for drumming up enthusiasm."

Then Olivia found herself the object of Harry De Rosier's attention. "Do you really think it's a good idea?" he asked.

Olivia suddenly wished she hadn't said anything at all. But why would Mr. De Rosier ask her opinion? "I think it might be splendid," she said. "Everyone talks and talks of your designs but..." She paused as she felt a violent blush color her cheeks. "No one ever gets to see them on. It would be a great way to show off your skill to Mr. Green and to the rest of us."

Harry De Rosier bit back a smile by sinking his teeth into his lower lip. His eyes sparkled as he gave Olivia a nod before turning to the rest of the group. "Well... If Miss Colston seems to think it a good idea, I see no reason why not. I and my seamstresses are at your disposal, Mr. Turner."

De Rosier threw another grin at Olivia that made her insides go warm and mushy. She couldn't resist throwing the gentleman a grin of her own.

The waiters came around thereafter and cleared away the soup to make way for the second course of oysters. As the men were remarking on the presentation of the oysters in their half-shells, a new arrival to the dining room turned every head. Even Olivia's stomach dropped as she beheld the pair of women who glided into the room.

The pair was clearly a mother with her daughter in tow. They were escorted towards a table in the back when the eldest suddenly stopped their waiter. The mother in her elegant, high-necked evening gown gave the room a sweeping glance before her eyes landed on none other than Olivia's table.

"That's her," Mr. De Rosier whispered, leaning close to Olivia so as not to be overheard. "Ethel Vanderberg and her daughter Daphne. And you're in luck. It looks like they're coming our way—" He flashed Olivia a smile. "Some girls spend years waiting for an introduction to the Vanderbergs."

Olivia didn't need to be from New York to know the name Vanderberg. The woman had earned quite the reputation throughout the entirety of western society for her outlandish parties (and her late husband's even more outlandish behavior). Mrs. Vanderberg stopped at the table and addressed Mr. De Rosier first.

"Mr. De Rosier!" she said. The woman had the bearing of a queen with every movement slow and considered — and her voice had a practiced musicality to it as if every word was its own special song. "It's a pleasure to find you here. You've met my daughter, Daphne?"

Harry stood and bowed to them both while fixing them with an effortless smile — at least it looked it from where Olivia was sitting. "I haven't had the pleasure, but I was planning to attend her debutante reception on Thursday."

Daphne stepped in front of her mother and Olivia was struck by the girl's beauty. They were without a doubt the same age, but Daphne had a sense of surety about herself that showed in the confident way she smiled and batted her long, dark lashes at Harry. As her stomach gave a jealous twist, Olivia found herself wondering how many girls had set their sights on Mr. De Rosier. If Daphne was their competition, they were sorely out of luck — not that it mattered to her.

"You've probably met Messrs Green and Turner," Archibald said. "But I expect you haven't met the Colston's."

"Of course we know Mr. Green and Mr. Turner," Mrs. Vanderberg said, straightening. "The Civic was my idea... well mostly my idea. The Colston's however..." Her eyes brightened at the sight of Archibald without a woman at his side. Olivia had seen a great number of mothers give him that look over the years.

Miss Vanderberg was equally cordial in her greeting, but before she could even get out a full sentence Mr. Green stood abruptly. He jostled the table as he jumped from his seat, making the silverware clatter against the china. "That's it!" he exclaimed. "That spark. Miss Vanderberg you are exactly what we are looking for! Conrad, look at her!"

Mr. Turner looked almost sick with embarrassment for his partner. "Yes, she is very pretty indeed, but Miss Vanderberg is too much of a proper lady for a turn on the stage. You'll have to excuse—" he began to say to Daphne Vanderberg, but she waved him away with a breathtaking smile and a swish of her gloved hand through the air.

"It's quite all right. I'm flattered by the offer," she said. "But regarding whether I am too high and mighty for the stage, I beg to differ. Nothing interests me more."

Brows raised all around the table.

Mrs. Vanderberg gave a sort of nervous cough — like she wasn't exactly pleased with her daughter's interest in the theater. "My daughter has a lovely voice, she's been trained of course, but I don't think she has quite the sort of voice you would want for an Opera."

"It's an operetta we're performing," Mr. Green said with a nod to Miss Vanderberg. "With your permission, madam, I would love to have Miss Vanderberg audition for the lead role."

Mr. Turner drummed his fingers on his chin again. "She does have that special something... just imagine what Mrs. Alexander will say when she finds out."

Mr. Green laughed. "She'll be so furious we never asked her darling daughter to audition."

"She'll have to show up," Turner said with growing excitement.

"She might even stay for the second act!"

Olivia giggled behind her hand as she watched the two men turn into gleeful children. All eyes were then turned to Mrs. Vanderberg for her consent to the scheme.

"Well," she mused. "It's not every day I get to stick it to Casilda Alexander... so why not." She turned to her daughter. "You may audition. Even if you don't make it, the fact that you were asked specifically to audition will be enough to put a kink in Casilda's crumpet for at least a week."

Olivia breathed a sigh of relief against her best effort, but her resolve to stay disengaged from her brother's intrigues was weakening.

"Thrilling isn't it?" Harry De Rosier said when he heard her sigh.

"We haven't even finished our second course and the show has a new costumer and I've met the most influential woman in New York," Olivia said with a laugh. "And it all happened so fast!"

De Rosier gave her a wry smile. "Welcome to New York."

Phew! *Wipes brow* This chapter is a LOOOONG one! Happy Christmas, everyone! I hope you are enjoying this story, and I can't wait to share more with you as I get it written! Remember to vote and comment if you are enjoying the story! Thank you ALL for reading, and following, and commenting, and adding this and my other stories to your reading lists. Your support this year has been WONDERFUL. AMAZING. ASTOUNDING. Seriously, I can't begin to express how grateful I am to have readers as awesome as you guys!