Betina was known for her comedic acting talent and had performed at several London theaters before Tilly became her understudy two summers prior.
“Heavens, what happened to your wrist? You wandered away on us, and you missed Lord Bucksworth attempting to arm wrestle a German prince. I say attempting because Lady Amelia Jordan had to step in and stop it before the prince embarrassed himself.”
“I needed a moment,” she said, distracted by the commotion around her. The party, now several hours in, saw many of the guests well into their cups, and merriment and chaos abounded.
“He was looking for you,” Betina said.
Tilly whipped her head around to meet her friend’s worried stare. “It’s bad enough he dictates what I do on stage, but now he must follow me around as well.”
Betina leaned closer. “I bargain he wants more than to follow you around.”
“I know very well what he wishes,” she snapped, “and I’ve been clear I am not interested.”
“I don’t think that will stop him.”
Tilly nodded, scanning the crowd for Roger’s tall frame. He hulked around London, tossing threats around and controlling the purse strings on Drury Lane. It wasn’t as if he had earned respect from anyone, but he commanded it, nonetheless, because no one dared go against him.
Tilly wished to be married. She wished for a family. And she was certain Roger would never allow it until she made her way into his bed first. She had made that mistake once in Dublin. She vowed never to do it again.
“He’ll ruin everything for you,” Betina continued. “He is not a patient man, and if you make him wait much longer, I suspect you won’t be able to act in London again. Not to mention what happens if he exposes—”
“Not here,” Tilly rushed. The panic clawed at her throat. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t thought of it all before. She had worked for years from a young child touring with traveling theater groups. And now, some small-minded man wished to take it all away from her because she didn’t wish to be his mistress. He wanted complete control of her.
And she was powerless to do much of anything because of what was at risk if he exposed her.
Without a reputation, she would have nothing. Which was why she fought to keep her character pristine by attending endless charity events and teas. If attending an event, she brought her crabby chaperone and never strayed out onto a dark balcony. She was skilled in polite conversation, was excellent at piano and needlework, and never participated in any flirtations with the many potential patrons who waited to be introduced at the end of all her performances.
Which was all the more reason why her behavior this evening was both alarming and surprising. It was careless, and yet she wasn’t satisfied by one magical kiss in the forest.
She grabbed a glass of champagne off a tray from a passing waiter and gulped down the bubbly liquid. Her world had just been altered, and she wouldn’t let Roger steal away what she had just discovered with her handsome stranger.
She would find him again, and he would be hers.
Funnier things had happened. Falling in love in an instant was not beyond reason. She had parted ways with reason years ago and had been much happier for it.
“Now come along,” Betina insisted. “Come sing with us. Let’s worry about Roger later.”
Tilly did what she did best, forced on a smile and acted as though she wasn’t being blackmailed by an utter cad, and the ton loved her all the more for it.
Dawn was quickly approaching, and Henry tumbled out of the carriage, laughing to himself as he stumbled a step. It wasn’t like him to stay out all night with his friends, who now taunted him from inside the carriage.
After breaking up the duel, he left with Stephen to attend a private party somewhere near Mayfair before finding himself at a gaming hell. He hadn’t seen her again.
He had searched.
Even with her bright red hair, she had disappeared.
But he would see her again, and perhaps soon.
“Get some sleep, Romeo,” Stephen teased. “Being lovestruck suits you. I dare say you’re tolerable now.”
When Henry sobered up, he might take offense, but right now, it felt as if he could run for miles. It felt as if he could make the sun rise in the morning and set at night, and still have enough within him to summon the moon on the stormiest night.
He hadn’t had this much fun… in well, forever.
He had stood in London and felt as if he belonged, and everything was possible. He had certainly worked toward such an end for some time. He hadn’t believed it though until this morning, lovesick and foolishly hopeful.
Henry would find her, surely.
He would find her, and they would court as she deserved to be courted and then… well, his heart ached to hold her again with each beat. He supposed once he found her again, they would take it one day at a time.
“I will marry her,” he shouted, spinning with his arms tossed out wide. “I know it. And I am never wrong.”
“Out of the road, Davies,” Michael shouted. “You’ll be run over by a carriage, then you’ll never find her.”
Raucous laughter erupted from within the carriage before it jerked and rode off, leaving him standing in front of his building.
His life had changed. And he was a new man.
With a silly grin still pasted to his face, he stumbled to his doorstep. Perhaps he had had a few too many drinks with his friends that evening. He rarely did, but he had enjoyed himself. And to think Rafe was having this much fun all along? What a blessing not to be the eldest son.
Not that he was bitter.
No, not at all.
Henry had done what his mother needed, at least according to his uncle. She was simply too sad after the passing of his naval captain father on a ship to Brazil. Henry was sent to London, Rafe was sent to become an apprentice of Captain Ackerman, and Mari had remained, looked after by a few of the women in their small Welsh village until their mother recovered from her grief.
