“Thought I’d stop by to see how your marriage is coming along.”
“‘Stop by?’ It’s two days’ travel.” Nicholas beamed and Rafe dipped his head to study the cakes so he wouldn’t look at Thea. Instead, he found himself looking at her fingers, tracing the blue flowers on the teapot’s handle. “Besides, there’s no marriage.”
“Yet Miss Knight is still here.”
“She won’t leave.”
“Oh, you poor boy, to be a mighty earl, yet unable to stop these helpless young women from moving into your house.”
He looked up to see Nicholas wink at Thea, who grinned in response. Rafe felt a peculiar warmth at the two of them getting along so well. Then Thea glanced at Rafe. Her grin softened into a secret smile for him, and Rafe warmed for a different reason.
“Why,” Nicholas continued merrily, his bright eyes seeing everything, “she might never leave.”
“Oh, I’ll leave.” Thea tossed her head, smiles gone. “When my pamphlet is ready. Lord Pessimism here says my plan won’t work, but the world will learn the truth behind my so-called scandal, when they read The Tale of Rosamund.”
“The Tale of Rosamund?” Nicholas repeated. “I know that one.”
“You cannot do.”
“Isn’t Rosamund the winsome lass—”
“Yes?” Thea prompted.
“Who was cruelly wronged—”
“Yes,” Thea said.
“By two dastardly knaves?”
“Yes!” Thea clapped her hands and laughed. “Don’t tell me—you saw a theatre performance of it? Arabella did too.”
“Outside London. That’s why the story sounded familiar: It was about that vile snot Percy Russell and your scandal, Miss Knight. Peculiar ending, though.” Nicholas screwed up his face in thought. “That reminds me, Rafe. Our friend William Dudley was performing in it. I stopped for a chat, and he said he had left Ventnor’s employ to join that traveling theatre troupe, and that— Oh my.”
He stopped short, his eyes on the doorway. Sally stood there, her posture a mix of belligerence and uncertainty, as if she was torn between leading a charge and running away. Before Rafe could say a word, Nicholas clapped his hands.
“It’s you. It is you, isn’t it?” The bishop was beaming at Sally. “How did you end up here?”
Thea was frozen, teacup in midair, looking as puzzled as Rafe felt.
“You know Sally too?” Thea asked. “How does everyone know Sally?”
Nicholas still looked delighted. “‘Sally,’ now, is it? We know her from London. Oh my, this is too marvelous! All this time, she’s been living under your noses, and no one knew because you never have visitors.”
Sally was swaying, her booted feet edging along the carpet.
“The devil are you talking about, Nicholas?” Rafe said. “This is Sally Holt, my housekeeper. She was Katharine’s companion.”
“Perhaps she was. But this is also Miss Sarah Holloway. Once the toast of London’s stage.”
Rafe looked from Nicholas to Sally and back again. “You must be mistaken.”
“Sarah Holloway, beloved actress in London for three seasons—or was it four?—until she mysteriously disappeared.” He scratched his chin as he studied the housekeeper. “I’d never mistake that splendid red hair and that wonderful pair of—”
“Nicholas.”
“—Elbows.”
“But Sally Holt can’t be Sarah Holloway,” Thea broke in. “Certainly, the names are similar, but Sally has lived here all her life. Perhaps you saw her performing in one of the amateur productions here, and you got confused because they both have red hair. Apparently, Sally was a marvelous actress.”
“Couldn’t have done. I haven’t visited Brinkley End in twenty years.”
Rafe leaned back against the windowsill and regarded Sally, who was listening to their exchange tensely. “You never thought to mention this?”
She met his eyes coolly. “You never thought to ask. ’Tis no secret I went to London while you were gone.”
“And became a famous actress?”
“Fame, by its very definition, defies secrecy.”
A disingenuous reply, for Sally knew as well as he that most people on this estate and in nearby villages would never travel outside the parish and rarely saw newspapers; the theatre in London was so far removed from their rural world, it might as well be a foreign land. Sally Holt was one of their own; after returning from years in London, they would have taken her back in without a second thought.
“You never told me.” Thea sounded betrayed. “I heard people talk of you, Sarah Holloway, the actress who disappeared. Is that why Lord Ventnor was so shocked to see you?”