very nice, but if you will excuse me, I am meeting Mrs Travenor in an hour or so. I just came in here for a newspaper to pass the time while I wait.’
Penelope gasped, then tried to cover it up with a cough.
‘What?’ Garth asked.
She shook her head, her cheeks flaming red, guilt writ large on her face.
‘Blast it, Penelope, tell me.’
‘Steady,’ Mark said, moving to shield his wife with his body.
‘Tell her to tell me, Mark,’ Garth said, clenching his fists.
Mark stared at him, then a grin broke out on his face. ‘Oh, not you, too.’
‘What on earth are you talking about? I just want to hear what she has to say about Mrs Travenor.’
‘Tell him, Penelope. He won’t let it go until you do.’
‘She left,’ Penelope said.
‘Left?’ Garth felt as if he’d been kicked in the gut by a horse. A bloody big one. ‘Left when?’
‘I mean, I think she left. She was carrying a valise. She said she was going to London.’
‘How long ago?’
‘If she was the dark beauty I met in the corridor when I arrived, it was not more than a few minutes ago,’ Mark said.
Penelope looked at him. ‘Beauty?’
He shrugged.
‘That was her, all right,’ Garth said, his stomach tightening, quickly followed by a hot buzz of anger. So Rose had lied to him again. What else had she lied about? Was there no end to her deceit? Perhaps she really had found what she was looking for in that house while he was sleeping.
It seemed where Miss Travenor was concerned he was a fool, but if she thought to escape him, she was in for a surprise. He wasn’t going to take the chance of her carrying his child, though God help him, if it was a boy, it meant he would never be able to put things right for his brother.
Well, he had one advantage on his side. He knew she was headed for London and the only way to get there from here was by stagecoach. And even if he missed her in the village, he’d soon catch up to her on the road.
He bowed. ‘If you will excuse me. You two have lots to discuss.’
‘Your absence will not be remarked upon,’ Mark said.
Garth wanted to knock the smile off his friend’s face. Being caught in the parson’s mousetrap was a fate worse than death, at least to him. His friend had seemed very happy about being leg-shackled. He hoped, for both their sakes, the events of the past few days wouldn’t change his mind.
Right now he had a more important matter on his mind. Rose.
‘Let’s hear you, then.’
Rosa stared out into the theatre, at the fussy little assistant manager’s assistant, with his springy blond hair and Lady Keswick’s letter in his hand. He squinted at Rosa over his spectacles from the front of the pit.
Nerves always tied her stomach in knots when she began to sing, but it was far worse this time. The theatre was cavernous. Unfriendly. It was so important that she do well and the aria he’d given her was pitched far too high for her voice.
She took a deep breath.
‘I haven’t got all day,’ the little man said. He pointed to the sheet of music in her hand. ‘Sing.’
Settle down. Just sing. She took another breath. Her heart was sitting too high in her throat. She swallowed it down. The first notes came out a croak.
‘Stop!’ the little man shrieked. He put his hands to his ears. ‘No more.’
‘No. I can do it. Just let me—’
‘I’m not looking for frogs. Can you dance? We need dancers.’
No. This was all going wrong. Why wouldn’t he listen? ‘If I could just try again? Please.’
‘Next,’ he yelled
Another girl, with carrot-red hair, stepped on stage from the wings.
She couldn’t let this happen. ‘I can dance,’ Rosa cried out to catch his attention. ‘I know all the country dances.’
He rolled his eyes. ‘Saints preserve me from bloody amateurs. I meant pas de chats and pirouettes, not the flippin’ Roger de Coverly. Next.’
The words pushed through her panic. Mama had shown her some of the dances required for performances. It had been so long ago, she’d all but forgotten. Rosa went up on her right toe and twirled, landing off centre. ‘You mean this?’
Another woman walked on stage from the opposite side, a large-bosomed woman in a sumptuous red silk gown and flashing jewels.
‘Gif her a chance, mein Herr.’ The woman gracefully twirled her wrist in the direction of the seats. ‘At least