Lady Rosabella's Ruse - By Ann Lethbridge Page 0,59

whom were milling about with their dancer of choice, including little Bess, who sat on the lap of her special gentleman with tears in her eyes and a guinea or two in her pocket.

Bess had tried to convince her to drop her costume at the end of the performance and take part in the fun. The gentlemen, she said, loved a woman who played breeches parts, because they loved to look at their legs. Rosa had been tempted. Some of the young men who came back after each performance were lots of fun, but most of them had wandering hands and no money.

She glared at Freddy. Every time she asked him for an audition, he said ‘later’ and dashed off on some errand for the prima donna. She couldn’t blame him. The fräulein was a star, the one the audience came to see.

A stir at the green-room door caught her attention. Several gentlemen she hadn’t seen before entered. Rich men from their clothing. Excitement rippled through the girls.

‘It’s Forever,’ Annie squealed. She’d been dancing for one company or another for years. She wouldn’t be joining them on the tour of the north. She’d been hired on at the Haymarket Theatre.

She flung herself at the man who entered last.

Rosa almost swallowed her tongue.

Stanford. He sauntered in, looking around with slitted eyes, his sensual mouth sullen, his eyes mocking. He looked darker and more dangerous than ever.

Surely he wasn’t seeking her. She wasn’t quite sure how she felt about that. Or her head wasn’t. Her heart seemed to be doing something like pirouettes in her chest. Painful prickles ran across her shoulders.

Shocked at the power of her reaction, she drew deeper into her corner.

He tucked Annie under his arm, opened his other arm and two more girls rushed to join him, petting the front of his coat as he kissed each one on the cheek, while all the time he managed to keep the cigar held loosely in his fingers from setting fire to their hair or their clothing.

‘Trust Stanford to bag the best of the bunch,’ Fitzwilliam, who accompanied him, complained, but he grinned as another member of the chorus sidled up to him.

Hiding deep in the shadows, Rosa couldn’t take her gaze from Garth. He looked nothing like the man she’d played cricket with on the beach, or the seductive nobleman who had made love to her one night in an empty house. His cravat dangled about his neck. His coat hung open, revealing a crumpled waistcoat. And he didn’t look happy. The devilish sparkle in his eye was missing. The sullen cast to his beautiful mouth and his dark expression made him look thoroughly jaded. And lonely.

As if… Oh, how could she even think he might be missing her? Loaded down with three girls, he staggered to an armchair in the middle of the room. He clamped the lit cigar between his teeth and scanned the room from beneath lowered brows.

An air of dissipation hung around him. A wild young buck for whom the world held no surprises. A wickedly handsome rake. Even dissipated and probably inebriated, his knee looked inviting.

He whispered something in Annie’s ear. Making love to her, no doubt. Rosa clenched her fists on her thighs, longing to push the girls off his lap. She looked away, trying not to notice. He wasn’t her concern. She’d rejected him roundly.

‘Did you bring presents?’ one of the girls squealed, searching his pockets in a way that said she’d done it before.

His lip curled sardonically as he blew a stream of smoke at the ceiling. He would set fire to the place if he wasn’t careful. But no one said a word. He was nobility. They were a rule unto themselves as long as they had money to spend.

He grabbed the guinea from the girl’s hand and held it up, saying something to which all three of them shook their heads and pouted.

What on earth could he be asking them to do?

Bess joined her on the bench. ‘We’ll be lucky if those girls are ready to set out in the morning after a night with Forever.’

‘Forever?’

‘Stanford. Before he came into the title he was Evernden. One of the girls said he could make a quickie behind the stage last forever. The nickname stuck.’

Rosa went hot, then cold, knowing exactly what the words meant. Remembering his touch. The wild sensations. The way she’d thought she’d lost her heart. She couldn’t stop herself from looking his way again, torturing herself with