Chapter Five
Exit, pursued by a bear.
—Shakespeare, A Winter’s Tale
“W hat are you two doing here?” Baird demanded, blocking the passage.
“Rehearsing,” Maisie said.
Colin came up behind her. “Step aside, Baird. The next scene is about to start.”
“They stopped to adjust lighting and judge the weather, which is turning poorly. I came to find you both. And I do not like what I see!”
“And what do you see?” Without thinking, Maisie moved toward Colin and bumped against a table where tools, brushes, pots of paint, and other things were stacked. Jostling the table brought her closer to Baird. He reached out and took her arm.
“Come here! Tell me why you were with him! Ever since Kintrie came back, you have been acting oddly. Is he pestering you? I shall deal with him.”
“Let her go.” Colin’s voice was gruff.
Maisie raised her hands as if to stop both of them and turned to Baird. “Pestering me? You dare ask that, you who have pestered me terribly for months? Years?”
“I find I must be vigilant with you. Sometimes you do not listen.” He tugged on her arm. “Your contrariness does not do, my dear.”
“Let go!” She pulled back.
“You heard her.” Colin stepped forward.
“What will you do, Kintrie? Where is your cane? Try me and you’ll fall. Not much of a Romeo, limping about. Come, my dear,” he snarled, dragging Maisie with him.
She yanked back, and Baird snapped at her under his breath. Colin took two strides, set one hand on her arm, and grabbed Baird’s hand to separate them. Baird turned and lunged—but Colin hauled back a fist and knocked him hard in the jaw. Stumbling, Baird cradled his jaw, glaring.
“Leave the lady be,” Colin groused.
Baird lunged again, taking Maisie’s arm in a wrenching grip. She bumped into the table and reacted quickly, grabbing whatever was close at hand, even as Colin surged forward. She flung the thing at Baird. As the pot of yellow paint hit him in the head, he released her, gasping as paint dripped down his face.
She grabbed a cloth and threw it at him, even as Colin put an arm around her.
“What is this?”
Maisie looked up to see her father and Mrs. Siddons. “Papa! Why are you here?”
“I came to fetch you home—and arrived just in time.” He glared. “Mr. Baird, you look ridiculous! I came here to get you because snow started and is coming down fiercely. What is going on here?”
“A disagreement,” Colin said curtly.
“So I see,” Gordon said.
“You two need to sort it,” Mrs. Siddons said. “Baird, go clean yourself up. I will send everyone home early. We’ll gather again tomorrow afternoon when the weather improves. Just one day left till opening night, but it should do. You know your part well, Kintrie. Now, please explain what is happening here!”
Maisie looked at her father, then Harriet, then Baird, a fuming and cowardly yellow. She met Colin’s eyes, dear and deep, the clear brown of smoky quartz.
“I have made a terrible mistake,” she said.
“A mistake?” her father asked. “These two must explain, not you, my dear.”
She shook her head. “I believed my promise to Kintrie was broken.”
Baird wiped the cloth over his face. “What promise?’
“Six years ago, Lord Kintrie and I agreed to marry. We made a handfasting as our commitment.”
“Handfasting?” her father burst out. “More than a promise—that is a legal marriage!”
“We know, sir.” Colin stepped forward. “And I take full responsibility. I asked your daughter to marry me then, and we agreed. But I went away and was gone far too long. When I returned, I meant to ask her again. And I intended to come to you with it.”
“I should have told you, Papa,” Maisie blurted. “But I thought it was over between us. Then I told Mr. Baird I might consider marrying him. Might, ” she emphasized.
“You promised!” Baird snapped.
“I never did! You told everyone we were engaged when we were not. Still, I am sorry if you were misled.”
“Wait,” her father said. “Handfasting holds under certain conditions.” He cleared his throat. “And eclipses any other promise. Baird, the girl apologized. Accept it with grace.”
“I am leaving,” Baird snapped. “You can find another Tybalt, Mrs. Siddons. You can find another assistant, Sir Archibald.” He threw down the cloth and strode away.
“Well.” Archibald Gordon turned to Colin. “Lord Kintrie—do you love my daughter?”
“Very much, sir.”
“Maisie—do you love Lord Kintrie?”
“Oh, so much!” She reached out a hand, and Colin took it, warm, solid, reassuring, more—everything to her.
“Well then,” her father said. “I wish you both had told me years ago. But I would have said you were too young and ought to wait. And so you have. There is just one thing I can say now.”
“Papa?” she asked.
“Sir?” Colin asked.
“It is snowing like the very dickens. Take my carriage and driver and go home together.”
“Home?” She wondered if he meant their family house.
“Kintrie has a house one street away from ours. Go there and sort things out between you and make your decisions. He is your husband, my dear—certainly by Scottish tradition, though it must be fixed with a wedding, and soon. Then, Kintrie, please take my daughter home.”
“I will,” Colin said.
“And send my carriage and driver back here. I will take Mrs. Siddons home once she is done.” He smiled down at her and touched her shoulder. Harriet glanced up at him and smiled.
Maisie blinked, suddenly seeing what she had not before, a true affection between her father and their dear friend. How had she not noticed what simmered there? Then she realized that they hid it, just as she and Colin had hidden theirs for so long.
“Oh, Papa! Kintrie, shall we go?” She looked at him.
“If Sir Archibald approves. Thank you, sir.”
“Lord Kintrie, it is an honor to call you my son-in-law,” her father said.
“Kintrie,” Mrs. Siddons said then, “do take your script home should we be snowed in tomorrow. You are the best Romeo I have ever seen.”
“Thank you, madam. But what will you do about the role of Tybalt?”
“If Baird truly quits, I will ask my older son, William, to play Tybalt. He is seventeen.”
“But William is playing the apothecary with a false beard,” Maisie said.
“He can do both parts, as they are not onstage together. And he has a knack for acting.”
“I have no doubt, coming from such a family,” Colin said.