Chapter 5 #2
Dinah, who knew very well how to work a crowd, waited until the audience’s shouting had reached a fever pitch, then she made a flying leap across the stage, struck Lord Rodrigo in the jaw, and planted a fist in his stomach.
Lord Rodrigo stumbled backward, and with one quick swipe of her leg, Dinah swept his feet out from underneath him and sent him crashing to the floor.
The audience roared their approval, the stable boys in particular letting out a raucous cheer.
Penelope was half-afraid they’d all storm the stage before Lady Madeline could do her part, but as soon as the white-robed, golden-haired angel appeared, the audience fell silent.
Dinah and Penelope scurried to the sides of the stage, out of sight, and watched with admiration as Lady Madeline pointed one accusing finger at the vanquished lord cowering at her feet.
“You, Lord Rodrigo Rakehell, have earned the ire of your Maker with your scandalous, immoral behavior. You are hereby called upon to mend your wicked ways, or else sacrifice your place in the kingdom of heaven.” Lady Madeline’s sweet, high voice echoed around the stage.
The audience remained still, not daring to draw a breath.
Lord Rodrigo rose to his knees at her feet, his hands clasped in supplication. “Who are you?”
“The Christmas Angel, sent down from God to save one sinner’s soul on Christmas. To escape eternal damnation, you must put aside your rakish ways, and become a proper gentleman.”
Lord Rodrigo spread his hands wide. “But I don’t know how to become a proper gentleman! How shall I reform, Christmas Angel? What must I do?”
“Marriage to your one true love is your only hope. Only she can bring out the goodness in you. You must marry your fated lady by Twelfth Night, or else suffer the flames of hell for all eternity. But beware—many unworthy ladies will attempt to disguise themselves as your one true love. Only your true love can save you, Lord Rodrigo, so choose your lady wisely.”
Lady Madeline swept off the stage, her filmy white skirts floating behind her. The stable boys gaped after her, so entranced they forgot their duty and Penelope was obliged to hiss, “Curtains!” before they hastily pulled them closed.
For one breathless moment afterward, there was nothing but silence from the other side of the curtain, but then the audience burst into ear-splitting applause.
The gentlemen stomped their feet and whistled until at last the boys drew the curtain back again, and the players came forward to take their bows.
“Finis, Act One,” Penelope called, when the furor had died down at last. “Please join us tomorrow evening for Act Two, when Lord Rodrigo Rakehell will begin his search for his one true love.”
* * *
Will sat motionless in his chair in front of the stage, his gaze fixed on Penelope Hervey, admiration and fury wrestling inside his chest.
Act One. To be followed tomorrow night by Act Two, a day after Miss Hervey had promised to leave Cliff’s Edge for good. God only knew how many subsequent acts there were—likely dozens.
Will watched her as she stood on the stage, laughing and fussing over “Rodrigo,” who was looking at the “scoundrel” who’d knocked him down as if he were already half-besotted with her. Will couldn’t blame him. Miss Bishop was a beauty, with her lush coloring and generous curves.
But it wasn’t Miss Bishop who caught and held Will’s eye.
It was Penelope Hervey. That long, thick hair of hers, those red lips, and the sweet, plump curves of her breasts and hips…Good Lord. His tongue had nearly dropped from his mouth when he’d seen her in the hallway before the performance this evening.
Then she’d taken the stage, and everything else—Lady Lavinia, his brothers, his guests—had faded away to nothing.
All he saw, all he knew, was her.
The way she twirled her skirts, her laugh, the lightness of her figure as she moved…
it felt intimate, as if she knew his gaze was only on her, and she was performing only for him.
He hadn’t looked away from her once throughout the entire act.
As long as she was on stage—whether she was speaking or not—he couldn’t tear his gaze away from her.
“That was every bit as scandalous as I predicted it would be,” Lady Lavinia spat, jerking to her feet. She glared at the stage, her face red with indignation.
Will hadn’t found the play all that scandalous, but then he’d likely spent far more time with prostitutes and drunken rakes than Lady Lavinia had. “I apologize if you were offended, my lady. I’ll have a word with Miss Hervey about it.”
“A word?” Lady Lavinia’s gaze fell on Miss Hervey, her eyes glittering with fury. “Why, you must send her away at once, Lord Archer, and that other one along with her. I wonder you allowed your innocent sister on stage with such…such harlots.”
Will raised an eyebrow at her, surprised by her venom. He wouldn’t have imagined such a small, dainty lady could hold so much malice inside her. “I don’t think—”
Lady Lavinia didn’t care what he thought, however. She turned her back on him and flounced off in a huff.
Will dragged a hand through his hair, then mounted the stage. Without a word of explanation, he took Penelope’s arm in a firm grip. She might have the sweetest face he’d ever seen, but she was hiding a devious side under that innocent smile.
Act One, indeed.
He marched her out of the drawing room, down the hallway, and into his study.
She swallowed when he closed the door behind them.
He didn’t invite her to sit, but leaned over her, resting his hand on the wood just above her head.
“I’m confused, Miss Hervey. I believe we agreed you’d leave Cliff’s Edge tomorrow morning, but then I would have sworn just now I heard you invite the audience to come and watch the Second Act tomorrow night. Perhaps I misunderstood you?”
She licked her lips nervously. “Um, no. Not exactly. That is, we did agree on one night, but when I sat down to write it…well, plays are generally in multiple acts, as you know, and then I didn’t like to overtask poor Lord Oliver and Lady Madeline with their first stage appearances.”
Her tongue had left a tempting sheen of moisture on her lower lip, and Will found himself struggling to catch his breath before he could speak. “I told you before, Miss Hervey. You’re a terrible liar.”
He drew closer, close enough to inhale her scent.
She’d taken an afternoon ramble in the gardens—he’d seen her from his study window—and she smelled sweet and clean, like sunshine and fresh air.
He was overwhelmed with the urge to bury his face against her neck and touch his tongue to that warm, velvety skin.
“Do you know what I think?” He murmured, his lips close to her ear. “I think you intended to write it in multiple acts from the start, so you can remain at Cliff’s Edge a little longer. Perhaps you lied to me about Lord Snedley as well, and you’re here to cause me mischief, after all.”
He’d be a fool to dismiss his initial suspicions on her word alone. She’d already lied to him once, about the play. It stood to reason she’d lie again.
She shrugged. “You can send us away any time you choose, Lord Archer.”
“Yes, if I want to explain to my sister why I’ve cancelled her play and banished her new friends. I don’t think she’d be pleased to see you go, do you?”
“That’s your concern, and nothing to do with me. Though I confess I wouldn’t envy you the task. Lord Oliver’s a natural performer, wouldn’t you say, Lord Archer? And Lady Madeline, well, she’s as lovely an angel as I ever saw. They’ll be disappointed if we don’t finish the play.”
“Yes, they will be, just as you intended.”
Will was honest enough to admit to himself he also wanted Penelope to stay, and with a worrying level of desperation—a gut deep yearning he’d never felt before.
That he desired it so badly was the very reason he should send her away at once.
Lady Lavinia was already in a devil of a temper, and he needed to keep his prospective bride in a good humor. Maddy’s future depended on it.
Yet it had been weeks since he’d seen Maddy smile as she had tonight.
Since they’d left London, she’d been so pale and withdrawn Will had hardly recognized her as the happy, carefree little sister he adored.
They’d always been close, before Rowley came along and spoiled everything.
Now he felt as if he didn’t know Maddy anymore.
But Penelope Hervey seemed to understand just what Maddy needed. Will couldn’t imagine how she’d known her absurd farce would be just the thing to lift Maddy’s spirts, but somehow, she had. He had her to thank for Maddy’s smile tonight.
He wasn’t ready to give that up. Give her up.
“Very well, Miss Hervey. It seems your deviousness has paid off. We’ll have Act Two of ‘Boughs of Folly’ tomorrow night. I’d warn you against tricks and foolishness, but I’ve a suspicion I’d be wasting my breath.”
She raised her chin. “Just so we understand each other, my lord. Act Two will cost you seven pounds.”
“I see. The price rises with each act, does it? How many acts am I to expect, Miss Hervey?” Will didn’t give a damn about the money, but he was curious to see if she’d try for more than the twenty pounds Lord Snedley had promised her. “Four? Five?”
She didn’t answer. He moved closer, until his face hovered over hers.
He was so close he could see she had a half-dozen or so pale, tiny freckles sprinkled across the bridge of her nose.
Dear God, those freckles. He wasn’t prepared for those playful little specks, and all at once he felt as though he’d taken a blow to the stomach.
I want to kiss them, one by one…
She looked away, color rising in her cheeks, but Will caught her chin between his fingers and tilted her face up to his. “Miss Hervey? How many acts?”
She bit her lip. “Three.”
Three. No more than she needed to appease Silas. She had to know she could have squeezed more out of him. That she hadn’t even tried caused an odd fluttering sensation near his heart.
“Only three? How reasonable of you, Miss Hervey,” he murmured huskily. He stared at her lips, mesmerized by them. They couldn’t be as soft as they looked, could they? As plump and sweet? If he took her mouth with his, would she taste like strawberries?
He didn’t realize he’d leaned closer until his lips were a mere breath away from hers.
She stared up at him, her lips parted, her deep brown eyes wide. “Lord Archer?”
He jerked back, startled. Good Lord, what was he doing? He’d almost kissed her. He’d almost taken those soft, strawberry lips with his. Even now his mouth watered, as if something sweet had exploded on his tongue.
He backed away from those tempting lips and fumbled for the door, anxious to see her gone before he lost his wits completely. “Good evening, Miss Hervey.”
She gazed at him for a moment, her brows drawn together, then she curtsied and slipped through the door.
Will watched her hurry down the hallway, then he closed the door and let his forehead rest against the cool wood.
He drew in a deep breath. Her fresh scent lingered in the air, and he filled his lungs with it.
It was two more nights only. He could control himself for that long.
Couldn’t he?