Chapter 6 #2
As Miles made his way back to the laboratory, a long-dormant urge to pray for guidance rose in his chest. As a boy, his mother had taught him to seek God when he had a need. But God hadn’t helped Miles when the world collapsed around him. Would He deign to guide Miles now?
The only work awaiting him was record keeping, which provided plenty of opportunity to stew over his questions and even test out a few hesitant prayers.
By the end of the day, inspiration struck, and he had a new element added to his increasingly elaborate plan to win over Sylvie Bryce.
While he considered how he could express the depth of his admiration for her in letter form, there was something more practical he could do to atone for his mistake.
The next morning, once the Cedar Point amusements started running for the day, he returned to the resort.
He’d realized Miss Bryce was unlikely to accept his help if he appeared at her next show and offered it.
So instead, after some effort that morning, he managed to uncover the name of the man who helped in Miss Bryce’s demonstrations, Mr. Lawrence Miller.
A helpful secretary—who may or may not have been charmed by his heavier-than-usual accent—even told Miles where he could find Mr. Miller that morning.
Armed with his plan, Miles approached the man in the Coliseum ballroom, where he was placing flowers in arrangements while several other employees hung them on the walls.
“Mr. Miller? I’m Miles Wentworth. I’ve an idea to run by you, if you have a moment.
” Miles dropped his voice to keep any of the other resort staff from hearing. “Regarding the lady archer’s show.”
Instant interest filled the man’s eyes, along with a bit of skepticism. “I’m only the assistant for the show, so I don’t make any decisions about it. And I can’t reveal her identity, if that’s what you’re after. I don’t even know it myself.”
She hadn’t revealed herself even to the man who helped her in the show?
Miles appreciated Mr. Miller’s deference to and obvious respect for Miss Bryce, especially given that he’d never so much as seen her face.
“No, not at all. I’m a friend of hers. The real her, that is.
I know her identity. The woman under the hood. ”
Mr. Miller’s eyes narrowed, and Miles felt every bit of his awkward rambling deep in his bones.
He was about to lose what might be his only opportunity to help Miss Bryce, to atone for causing her such trouble.
“As a favor, I want to help make her show a keen success. If she had someone willing to let her perform more dangerous tricks involving him, the show would garner more interest. Don’t you agree? ”
After a moment staring at Miles with narrowed eyes, Mr. Miller returned to sorting flowers on the table next to him.
But he didn’t end the conversation, which Miles took as a good sign.
“I could see such an addition being a draw for the show. And to be honest, it needs something to get the kind of interest from guests that our manager is expecting. But no matter how skilled she is, what fool would let someone shoot arrows at them? I assume that’s the kind of dangerous tricks you’re referring to. And it certainly won’t be me.”
He was indeed referring to such dangerous shots.
But Miles was no fool. The science behind popular trick shots was solid, and Miles had the utmost confidence that Miss Bryce was using it to her full advantage.
After seeing her perform with a bow, he trusted she wouldn’t attempt any trick she wasn’t prepared to breeze through.
“While I am referring to those kinds of tricks, I wouldn’t dream of asking you to participate.
I have enough faith in Miss—er, the lady archer—that I’m willing to be the fool who lets her shoot arrows at him. ”
Miles swallowed hard. He’d come close to letting her name slip. He would need to be on his guard much more if he did manage to get involved in her demonstrations.
Mr. Miller once again paused in his work and faced Miles.
The other man looked him up and down, as if establishing whether he really was a fool.
“Death-defying feats do tend to draw a large crowd and would make an impression. The show is interesting as it is, but I fear it may be cut if it can’t attract more people.
There are quite a few traveling shows interested in performing here this summer, and the resort manager won’t hesitate to replace one that doesn’t bring in enough guests.
But why don’t you go to her with this idea, if you know her real identity? ”
It was a test, so Miles went with the most honest response. “She doesn’t know I’m aware of her work. We’ve spoken here twice, but she’s so set on keeping her identity a secret that I hate to tell her I saw her face. I want to prove I can support what’s important to her through actions, not words.”
A slow grin spread across Mr. Miller’s face.
“Ah, you’re pursuing her, then? Most women would rather have romantic gestures, I’m sure, but the lady archer does seem a different sort.
I believe you’re on the right track. She’ll be here on Monday around midday to practice with me before an afternoon show.
Come prepared to explain whatever you’re planning yourself.
I’m only supposed to be in the background of the show. I won’t speak for you.”
Answering with a responding grin and profuse thanks, Miles left Mr. Miller to his work and headed to the laboratory to finish his own tasks for the day.
With one part of his plan settled, he was able to focus more than he had since Wednesday.
Before the weekend was over, he would handle the other element of his strategy to woo Miss Bryce by multiple means.
That evening, after a steamship ride and a quick walk, Miles returned to the spacious, luxurious bedroom Alexander and Grace had given him for the summer.
He sat down at a writing desk near one of the large windows with a sheet of paper and a lovely fountain pen he’d found inside.
He’d been considering all week what he should write in his first letter to Miss Bryce.
While he wasn’t as eloquent as some society gentlemen, his strength was in his ability to be more genuine than most of them.
The admiration that deepened each time he saw her would guide his words.
Two hours and ten crumpled attempts later, however, Miles had to admit that becoming a secret admirer was more difficult than he’d expected.
He was in no way qualified to woo a woman like Sylvie Bryce by words alone—that was growing clearer by the minute.
He was a scientist, a man who learned, studied, and worked with facts.
While he might feel all sorts of things, attempting to put them on paper was giving him a headache.
Determined to return to the idea later, Miles spent the rest of the weekend planning what he would say to Miss Bryce at Cedar Point on Monday morning.
He also took time to gather items to piece together his own costume.
On Saturday, he visited Alexander’s tailor, who was easily convinced to rush a red silk tunic for Miles when he learned money was no object.
Miles also requested a matching mask to cover half his face, in the style of those one might wear to a masquerade ball.
Loose black trousers from Miles’s wardrobe met the need for practicality in playing the part of Will Scarlet, Robin Hood’s sword-fighting companion.
A rapier borrowed from Alexander and sheathed on a brown leather belt completed the costume well enough.
By Monday morning, Miles was anxious but prepared.
He’d already explained to his co-workers that he would need a few hours every week to attend to personal matters.
So he made his way from the dock to the resort, rather than to the laboratory, and steadied his nerves to meet Miss Byrce on the lawn by the Coliseum.
He had to pause when he saw her there, standing tall and strong, lining up a shot that looked easy compared to what he’d seen her do on Thursday during her demonstration.
Even without a glimpse of her face, her bearing spoke of breathtaking confidence and enjoyment.
Once she released the arrow and turned to speak with Mr. Miller, Miles straightened his mask and tunic, ensured his rapier was straight, and marched right up to them with as much false poise as he could muster.
The fierce way her forehead furrowed when she turned to see him approaching nearly made Miles retreat.
But he had to repay her for the damage he’d done last week.
And the best way to do so was to help her take her show to new heights, to save it from being replaced, if Mr. Miller’s assessment was correct.
Drawing a deep breath, Miles began his plea, praying she didn’t refuse him before he could show her that his idea was worth the risk. “My lady, if I might interrupt your practice to have a word with you?”