Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Valentina pivoted and faced the nob. With his blonde hair nearly the color of platinum and eyes that called to mind skies of vast clear blue, he looked like an angel. Even his evening coat was pure white.
Then one peered into those clear blue eyes.
And one realized if he was an angel, he was a fallen one.
Further, an unpredictable energy shimmered about this fallen angel.
He was going to foil the finely laid plans that had led her to the Five Graces.
She could sense it.
Though she didn’t yet know his name, she already resented this lord. It was the way his mouth tipped into half a smile and the assurance that shone in his eyes. This lord was very accustomed to getting his way.
And it occurred to her: she didn’t have to answer his question. The why’s of her life were none of his concern.
“I must change into my next costume, so if you will please…” She shooed him away as one would a pesky fly. She’d miss her mark if she didn’t hurry, which would be the fifth time tonight. Which would get her a good yelling-at. Again.
The nob’s feet remained planted, and his smile didn’t slip a notch. “Why are you singing at the Five Graces?”
Truly, aristocrats could be incredibly stupid. “Why does anyone seek employment?” she asked, fumbling at her back for corset stays. He truly had no understanding of her world. “Money.” She gave up on the corset and slipped a man’s shirt over her head.
The nob continued staring at her, assessing. “But you’re special.”
She pulled up short, even as gratification snuck through her. Gratification she immediately suppressed. “I’m not special at all,” she said, jerking a pair of trousers up her legs. She was to play a lad in the next comedy bit.
The nob opened his mouth, looking for all the world intent on contradicting her, when Mr. Degrass, the Five Graces’ owner, shoved his massive girth behind the screen that Valentina had insisted upon for privacy.
His gaze flicked toward the nob, and an obsequious smile spread across his face.
“Why, Lord Archer, what a pleasant surprise to find you here. Are you enjoying the evening’s entertainments? ”
Lord Archer. She’d known it.
“I am, indeed,” said Lord Archer.
Mr. Degrass’s smile fell when it landed on Valentina. “Change of plan.”
“Oh?” She was hastily tucking shirt into trousers.
“Put on this dress.” He tossed her a garment.
Valentina held up the flimsy scrap of fabric. “But this isn’t a dress,” she said, slowly. “It’s a chemise.”
“Well, put it on, and be ready to go out again in five minutes.”
“I’ll need the dress,” she said, a suspicion creeping in.
“That is the dress.”
Just as she’d suspected. “This is an undergarment.”
She glanced at Lord Archer, for some reason embarrassed that he was witnessing this exchange. His smile had disappeared, and in its place was a face like thunder.
“You can’t have her go on the stage like that.” His voice brooked no opposition.
Mr. Degrass gave Lord Archer his most patronizing smile.
In the three days that Valentina had worked at the Five Graces, she’d come to know it well.
“Lord Archer,” he began, “now you go back to your seat with Lord Kilmuir and enjoy the rest of the show. Leave the talent to me. I know how to handle this chit.”
Lord Archer’s gaze swung toward Valentina. “You don’t have to do what he says. You’re worth more than that.”
“What do you know of my worth?” she asked, exasperated.
“Only what I saw on stage. You were spectacular.”
“And that’s why we need to get her back on stage.” Mr. Degrass pointed out. “Wearing that.”
Lord Archer shook his head, implacable. “With her talent, that’s hardly necessary.”
“Who’s talkin’ necessary?” A laugh rumbled from the great depths of Mr. Degrass’s belly. “I’m talkin’ coin, milord. I mean, just look at her.”
Lord Archer’s gaze shifted toward Valentina and gave her a slow up-and-down that sent heat flushing through her.
Appreciation, that was what she saw in his eyes.
Since the age of sixteen, when her bosom had made its rather sudden and generous appearance, she’d been accustomed to such a look from the male gaze.
She simply had that sort of figure and face.
Mr. Degrass wasn’t saying anything she hadn’t half expected to hear.
But something more in Lord Archer’s gaze had a feeling stealing through her. A new feeling. It sparked through her all warm and light and slightly tingly.
“She won’t do it,” said Lord Archer with firm finality.
“I won’t?” snapped Valentina. She’d about had it with this nob sticking his nose into her affairs. “How dare you.”
A single blonde eyebrow lifted with surprise. “So, you will do it?”
“I most definitely won’t,” she returned. “But that’s for me and Mr. Degrass to sort out.”
“Well, I say you will,” blustered Mr. Degrass. “Or…or…”
Valentina’s hands clenched at her sides, and she braced herself. Lord Archer had pushed the man into a corner, and there was but one way for him to save face.
“Or you can find yourself another theater,” he finished.
No, no, no. Valentina spread her hands wide in supplication. “Surely, we can come to a mutual agreement.”
“Then she shall leave,” said Lord Archer.
“And good riddance,” said Mr. Degrass. “The chit is more trouble than she’s worth with her uppity airs. Demandin’ a screen to change behind. Too good to show a bit of skin for a load of blunt.”
“Hey!” protested Valentina.
But it was no use. Mr. Degrass continued, “Collect what you brought, and it’s out through the stage door with you.”
Seeing that her now-former employer was utterly serious, Valentina stuffed her dress and the few sundries she’d brought with her into a worn travel bag and found herself in a fetid alleyway, the door firmly closed behind her, in fewer than a handful of minutes. She exhaled a tiny roar of frustration.
Now what?
“What I don’t understand,” came an aristocratic voice behind her, “is why you’re so upset.”
Valentina swung around to find the source of her frustration—Lord Archer—propped against a wall, looking for all the world like he didn’t have a care in the world.
Well, he didn’t, did he?
Her mouth opened and closed, but words refused to emerge. What sheer, brazen, presumptuous gall!
He continued. “You can sing anywhere you want.”
Her voice found itself. “How dare you.”
“You’re repeating yourself.”
She could stamp her foot. That was how frustrating the man was. “You can’t simply charge into someone’s life and upend all their carefully laid plans.”
For that was the thing—the Five Graces had figured prominently into her plans. Lords were known to frequent the place. Lords like the one before her.
Except not this lord at all.
A different lord.
Her job at the Five Graces had only been the beginning, and now this…this…nob had set her plans ablaze before they could gain a footing.
“As I see it,” continued Lord Archer with breathtakingly supreme confidence, “I’ve done you a favor.”
Valentina’s mouth fell agape. The arrogance!
Lord Archer pushed off the wall. Valentina hoped it had left a smudge of dirt on his white superfine coat. Really, though, what sort of man wore white for a night in Southwark?
This sort, apparently.
Lord Archer.
“Now, you’ll change out of those trousers, as fetching as they are on you,” he said with a wink, “and put on that dress in your bag.”
“Why would I do that?”
Oh, why had she asked? She was being drawn in, and she should resist with all her might. This entitled lord was entirely too accustomed to getting his way.
“Because you’re coming with me.”
A dry laugh escaped her. “I’m going nowhere with you.”
His head cocked. “It’s near midnight in Southwark, and you’ve lost your place of employment. Where else will you go?”
“Lord Archer—”
“Archie,” he corrected. “Everyone who knows me calls me Archie.”
“Well, see? That’s the thing. I don’t know you.”
“You will after tonight, so we may as well skip the formalities.”
She snorted. Could this man possibly be real? “Why are you taking an interest in me?”
“Because, Contessa—”
“Valentina,” she said before immediately correcting herself. “Miss Hart.”
“Miss Valentina Hart?” His ever-present smile widened. “Truly?”
“Truly,” she said. “English father. Italian mother.”
“Ah.”
“You still haven’t answered my question, Lord Archer.”
“Because you have exceptional talent, Miss Hart. Your singing voice… How did you come by it?” For all his glib appearance, she detected true interest.
She shrugged. “I’ve always sung. My mother encouraged it.” Why was she telling him all this? “Now, I shall be going.”
“Where?”
“That’s none of your concern.”
“I’m afraid it is,” he said, spreading his hands wide in apology—an apology that didn’t reach his eyes.
“Why is that?” she asked, wary.
“Because I got you dismissed, and now you’re my responsibility.”
“The first part is true, but not the second.”
Her words found no purchase with him. “Now you’re going to put on the dress in your bag and come with me.” When she didn’t move, he continued, “Or we can stand in this alleyway all night. Though I’m certain the rats will have something to say about that eventually.”
Rats. Ugh.
He turned his back to her and began whistling as he waited.
She hesitated. If she put on that dress, then she would be as good as saying yes to whatever night he had planned.
This Lord Archer, he possessed a wildness in his eyes that she didn’t entirely trust. And yet, strangely, she didn’t sense any real harm in him, either.
Really, all she had to do was see the night through until dawn, then she could begin reassessing her plans.
On a deep exhale, she exchanged one set of clothes for another and cleared her throat when she was presentable. He turned and gave her another up-and-down. “That’ll do.”
She laughed, utterly bemused. She’d never met anyone like this man.
“Now, I know just the place to lift your spirits.”
Valentina wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that, but she could see she hadn’t much choice, either.