Araminta’s mouth dropped open. “Do you truly imagine I wished to marry either of them? After I could have enjoyed wedded bliss with you? I despise Mr. Woking and I fear Lord Debenham, but I was in their clutches. All because of your brother!”
“My brother?!” Teddy looked shocked. “What on earth are you talking about?”
Araminta beckoned him closer so she could lower her voice. Meanwhile, her mind was running in circles. Lord Tunbridge was angry, but she’d seen cracks in his armor. He could be brought around if she only found the right words, the right argument. “Surely your brother has told you about the government’s suspicions regarding Debenham’s involvement in a certain matter pertaining to...to espionage?” She went on at the flare in his eye. “You know of course that your brother Ralph Tunley’s sweetheart is my half-sister? Yes, it’s scandalous, and I’m ashamed to admit it. I learned the truth a few months ago when we were mistaken for one another. Apparently, we share an uncommon similarity. You do not think so? Well, in certain lights, if we adopt the same smile and mannerisms we could be mistaken for twins. I’ve heard it from many, and I heard it from Lord Debenham. Come closer, Lord Tunbridge, so I can tell you of the terrible fate that befell me no sooner than you’d abandoned me.”
Warily, he advanced, his expression a mixture of uncertainty and desire. Araminta reached up and touched his cheek briefly, leaving him, she hoped, in no doubt about the sincerity of her feelings. “The fact is, I was tragically mistaken for my half-sister Larissa when she visited Sir Aubrey in his supper box—alone—in Vauxhall Gardens,” she whispered, cupping his cheek to bring his head closer to her lips. How she longed to nibble that beautiful earlobe. And that would only be the beginning. With a heartfelt sigh, she continued, “Lord knows what she was doing, but then, to make matters worse, she was observed visiting Debenham. He didn’t know what to do; he was outraged, of course, and sent her away. But evil tongues began to wag, claiming it was me. But Debenham had been with men he knew would place him under suspicions, and that’s the reason he kidnapped me when I was for a moment separated from Hetty, and he held me prisoner in his supper box as he all but forced me to agree to marry him.”
“Dear God, he kidnapped you to try and force your hand? Did he...?” Lord Tunbridge—her darling Teddy—broke off, his skin taking on a darker hue which Araminta could see even in this dim light.
“Did he force me into anything? No, he did not. Not on this night, anyway.” Araminta was conscious of the wretched baby turning a summersault. Lord, she’d thought her difficulties would be over when she found a father for it; yet keeping up the fiction that it had been conceived two months later than, in fact, this particular night in question, was proving a nightmare.
“Why did you not tell me this? I’d have ensured your reputation was not besmirched. Why could you not have trusted me?”
“I wanted to tell you, and that’s part of the reason I rushed after you in the middle of the night after I’d agreed to marry you...but you’d already left for France.” She gulped. “I knew there could not be this terrible secret between us. On my return in the carriage, not two minutes after my maid had spoken to your butler, by chance we happened upon Mr. Woking who was in his cups and who stumbled in front of the carriage. Lord, we nearly rode right over him! We stopped to pick him up and take him home, and he told me that his uncle was about to tell the world that I’d...spent the entire night with him in his supper box, as he needed an alibi since my half-sister had sketched a drawing that showed Lord Debenham in company with the other two plotters whom the English Government are investigating for some nefarious dealings. You do realize your brother is working in secret for them? Yes, I discovered that through my maid, though I’ve not told Debenham. No, not even my own husband, for I never wished to marry the blackguard. Never! Mr. Woking said that his uncle was intent upon this ruthless plan, and that since you had left the country and could not protect me, he would do the honorable thing, and that we could pretend to be betrothed as it was the only way to keep me safe from his evil uncle’s clutches. But even that wasn’t enough.” She put her hands to her face and shook her bowed head. “No, the night we announced our betrothal, Lord Debenham followed me to the lady’s mending room at Miss Hosking’s own betrothal ball, dragged me into an empty room, and ensured that my being compromised was thoroughly witnessed and documented. He forced me onto the bed so that I would have no choice but to marry him...and you were not there to protect me,” she added with a little sob and in a suitably accusing tone as she dropped her hands.
Watching Teddy’s mouth drop open and the flare of horror in his eyes was the only satisfying part of her entire evening.
And the fact that she had not lost the art of turning a bad situation to her advantage.
Chapter Six
Kitty breathed in the now familiar smell of oil paint, rancid powder, and smoke with her usual delight as she sat at her dressing table and slapped on her make-up with whatever came to hand—a rabbit’s paw sufficing for the moment. Around her a dozen chattering, bustling actresses prepared themselves while Kitty, as the jewel of the night, had her own attendant to comb her hair, two thick fair ropes adorned with ribbons in the first scene. By the end, it would be a lustrous, tangled mass of curls after a stricken Romeo knotted his grasping hands in it.
Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet had been enjoying spectacular reviews since it had begun playing the week before after three weeks of rehearsals. Each night they’d played to a full house. Mr. Lazarus had forgiven Kitty after she’d pliantly kissed him during rehearsal and allowed him to fondle her rump. Fortunately, it seemed that was all he was after, so Kitty had been given the role with her virtue intact. She was now enjoying a great deal of fawning admiration from a range of men. Bouquets of flowers were delivered nightly, notes declaring ardent love from complete strangers were regularly handed to her by glowering chorus girls, including one very sweet piece of parchment from Lord Silverton, in which he lauded her stage presence and beauty and wished her much happiness in her chosen career, evincing the deepest regret that another had stolen her heart and offering her a refuge should she need one.
Kitty had hugged the single yellow rose, signifying loyalty rather than love, while an odd feeling had roiled in her belly; but then, a mealy-mouthed Jennie had come into the dressing room carrying an enormous bouquet of red roses, and a message from Lord Nash that he looked forward to paying his respects to Kitty in person after the night’s performance.
“Don’t go losing your heart to this one, now,” Jenny warned. “’E likes to break in all the new ones.”
Kitty thought Jennie was just jealous, for she knew sincerity, and that’s what had shone from her
first shared gaze with the handsome viscount. Lord Nash, she was quite sure, was the handsome dark-haired swain the gypsy fortune-teller had prophesied as her destiny. If his inky-black curls and smoldering eyes did not make the argument sufficiently, the small dueling scar beneath his right eye certainly did.
So, while generally Kitty relished every moment on stage, tonight she couldn’t wait for the performance to be over so she could at last gaze upon the Adonis whose image had haunted her since he’d first swept his extravagant bow just before her first disastrous audition.
It had been love at first sight. She’d relived the scene so many times, pinpointing the moment they had seared each other’s souls with that single, piercing look. And now he was here, exquisite in evening clothes that molded his well-built form, his dark, curling hair falling rakishly over his noble forehead.
“Miss La Bijou, you were superb!” With a mixture of feline grace and almost uncontained exuberance, he crossed the room to offer her another of his extravagant bows. And Kitty, aware that Jennie was nearby and clearly furious, basked in the praise and attention from this scion of nobility, this Adonis, this creature from another planet, it seemed.
“I should like to take you to supper. Do, I beg you, accept.” He went down on one knee suddenly and held his arms out in a gesture of supplication, causing Kitty to giggle while Jennie huffed just behind her shoulder.
“I should love to go to supper with you if you will allow me a few moments to change, my Lord.” She knew she was blushing furiously, and that heat beaded her upper lip over the thick make-up she’d not yet removed. Yet still, he called her exquisite as if he could see beyond her failings. That was true love.
When he’d left the room after telling her he’d wait for as long as it took, Jennie sidled up to where she was sitting at her dressing table her and began to run her fingers over the cards and bouquets. “I used to get the same attention when I played Desdemona last season,” she said. “Lord Nash used to invite me out to supper, too.”
Kitty refused to allow her exuberance to be dampened. Jennie was pretty but in a common way. With her fiery red hair and pale skin she was striking, but already she was starting to look raddled. And her voice was coarse. Lord Nash might flatter and flirt with such a girl, but he would not, could not, marry her. But Kitty was the daughter of Viscount Partington. She had ambitions. One day, she could be like the beautiful Emma Hamilton who, despite her lowly origins, had married Lord Hamilton, the British Envoy to Naples. Lissa had told her such dreams rarely happened in life, but the gypsy had foretold it.
“Then you agree he is a charming gentleman,” Kitty said sweetly. “I’m sure you won’t begrudge me an evening out in his company, too.”
“’E will expect more than supper.” Jennie lounged against the dressing table, twisting one curl about her finger.
Kitty felt herself blush even more. She turned, suddenly angry. “What business of yours is it whether we go for some dancing? Or to play a game of faro?”
Jennie sniggered. “You think I’m jealous, and so I am. But I’m also giving you fair warning of the kind of rogue our fine and handsome Lord Nash really is. I would ’ate you to ’arbor grand illusions only to ’ave them shattered by the end of the evening. Or morning.”
Kitty rose. “You think I am so easily seduced?”
“The mere fact you will be alone with ’im will ’ave others assume it. You are naturally not so naïve. You ’ave such airs and speak like a lady, but you must ’ave lived under a stone before you came ’ere if you don’t know that all actresses are considered lightskirts. And most of us are, if only to pay the rent. Where do you live? With your respectable mama and papa? I think not. Do they even know that their daughter is an adventuress, about to fall from her lofty ’eights if she accepts ’is Lordship’s invitation?”