Only You (29 page)

“Fine,” the footman said.  “I’d rather work anywhere than here where I have to suffer your presence every second.”

“Search his pockets,” the maid advised the footman.  “We have to find the money and put it back before Mrs. Wallace notices.”

The footman riffled through Fenton’s pockets and pulled out a wad of pound notes that was tied with a ribbon, indicating it had come from Edna’s desk.  She kept it for when the servants ran errands.

“I knew you had it, you little cretin,” the maid scolded.  “And you, a rich, entitled boy, planning to blame it on a poor housemaid such as myself.”

“You ought to be ashamed,” the footman added.

“I’m never ashamed of anything,” Fenton bragged.  “I’ll tell her it was
you
who took it out of her desk.  She never doubts me, so you’re about to be tossed out in the street.”

Edna felt as if she’d stumbled into a particularly horrid theatrical drama.  Her journey to Egypt with Fenton had been the sole occasion she’d actually spent an extended period in his company.  There had been incidents the whole trip:  fires lit, property missing, pranks played.  Theo had been so terrified of him that—on the voyage home—she’d refused to leave her cabin if he was loose on the deck.

Because Edna had been desperate for her son to like her, she’d always stuck up for him even when his version of events had been implausible.

Now, clearly, his true colors had been exposed.  He had no moral compass.  He was a cruel, spoiled boy, who would pilfer money from his own mother, then claim an innocent servant had taken it.

The Colonel would have cleverly handled Fenton, would have swiftly mended what was wrong.  But Edna had no idea how and definitely wasn’t up to the task.

She stepped out of the shadows, and the servants blanched and lurched away from Fenton as if he was aflame.

“Mother!” Fenton wailed, and he was blinking and blinking, bringing fake tears to his eyes.  “I caught the maid stealing out of your desk!”

“He’s lying, Mrs. Wallace,” the maid huffed.

“Of all the nerve!” the footman protested.  “The malicious rascal pinched it himself.  Sally caught him.”

Edna held up a hand, signaling for all three to be silent.

“It’s all right,” she said to the servants.

“You believe me, don’t you, Mother?” Fenton asked.

There was the longest pause in the world as they waited for her reply.  She was about to set herself on a path she hadn’t ever intended.  She’d parted with her daughter forever, and it was probably best to cut herself loose from her son too.

“No, Fenton, I don’t believe you,” she ultimately said.

She whirled away and raced up the stairs to where she’d left the enrollment papers.  She picked up the one that would enlist Fenton in a strict military academy.  She wrote out a bank draft for the tuition, then rushed down to locate the footman and have him post the application immediately.

“Mother!” Fenton cried as she stormed into the foyer.  “It was Sally!  Not me!  Don’t you care?”

“I eavesdropped on the entire confrontation, Fenton, so you can stuff it.”

“But…but…Mother, what are you saying.”

“I’m
saying
you’re leaving for school tomorrow.  Go to your room and pack your things.”

T
heo carefully picked her
way through the packed lobby of the theater.  It was intermission, which was most people’s favorite part of the night.  The minute the actors left the stage, everyone left their boxes to see or be seen.

Gowns were paraded, jewelry flaunted, gossip bandied.  She liked to actually watch the plays, but the socializing was humorous too.

For the past three weeks, Bernard had picked her up every day to explore and mingle.  Theo’s prior experience in the city had been when she’d come for her failed betrothal to Hedley, so she relished the excursions very much.

They went out most evenings too, to the theater or a musicale or a supper, but she was so naïve she hadn’t realized they would generate gossip.

She’d been asked several times if she was engaged or about to be engaged.  When she replied that she wasn’t, those questioning her always looked askance, as if they couldn’t believe any male would be cordial to her without valid reason.

But she felt removed from it all, and she was simply grateful that Bernard had been kind enough to squire her around.  He was heedless of the stares and rumors they produced, or if he noticed, he was adept at ignoring them.

In another week, he would return to York, and she almost regretted his going.  Nothing had changed as to her opinion on matrimony, but after he departed, her world would once again be very small and very quiet.

They’d gotten separated in the crowd, so she decided to head to their box on her own.  They were sharing it with several of his friends, a group of handsome young men who were full of jokes and ribald comments.  Theo was having great fun with all of them.

She walked to the rear stairs, and as she reached them, a woman was coming down.  Theo stepped to the side to let her pass, when the woman said, “Lady Theo!  Is it you?  Hello!”

Theo glanced up to see that it was Cassandra Valda.  She was as glamorous as ever, buxom, statuesque, her glorious auburn hair shimmering in the candle light.  It seemed so peculiar to find her in London that Theo was dizzy with her brain trying to figure out why she would be there.

“Mrs. Valda, hello to you too.  You are the very last person I would ever have expected to stumble upon.”

“I’m surprised to run into you as well.”

“I can’t picture you anywhere but Cairo.  What brought you to London?”

“I’m off to Paris to convince my despicable husband not to divorce me.”

“You stopped in England first?  Isn’t that a bit out of the way?”

“Oh, I traveled with Soloman.  You remember Mr. Grey, don’t you?”

On hearing his name casually fly from Mrs. Valda’s lips, Theo was so astonished she nearly fainted.

“Yes, I remember Mr. Grey.  Is he…with you?”

“We’ve been here for a week.  There is some issue with his baby brother’s estate, and his presence was required.”

“You traveled with him,” Theo murmured.

“Yes, and we had a
very
relaxing journey.”

Mrs. Valda had a habit of imbuing her words with certain emphasis so she sounded a tad risqué, as if she constantly engaged in illicit conduct.  Theo understood it was an affectation meant to suggest she led an exciting life, but on this occasion, the notion of her
relaxing
with Mr. Grey was extremely distressing.

Theo envisioned them participating in the intimate acts Mr. Grey had shown to Theo.  It was humiliating to recall how she and Mrs. Valda had once shared his attention, and Theo was desperate to slink away so she could calm her racing pulse in private.

“How long will you be here?” she forced herself to politely inquire.

“I must leave in a few days, before my husband has much more time to pursue his nonsense.”

Theo couldn’t imagine anyone considering a divorce to be nonsense, but she didn’t say so.  “And Mr. Grey?  How long will he remain?”

“He’s hoping his visit will be brief, but with legal proceedings, who can predict how they will drag on?  Months?  Years?”

“Then he’ll return to Cairo?” Theo asked.

“That is the plan.”

“How lucky for him to escape London in the winter.”

“Yes, men are lucky, aren’t they?  They can roam when they like, and love when they like, and misbehave when they like.  There is no one to tell them they can’t.”

There was bitterness underneath her remarks that Theo recognized.  Mrs. Valda was unhappily married, and she’d been soothing her wounded pride in a torrid affair with Mr. Grey.  On recollecting how close they were—close enough for her to sail to London with him!—Theo’s old wretchedness swept over her with a vengeance.

Why had Theo involved herself with Mr. Grey?  He was a world-traveler, a shrewd, tough adventurer, and Mrs. Valda was precisely the sort of woman who would appeal to such an interesting, unusual man.

What had Theo’s attraction been?  Had he been humored by her naïveté?  Had he been intrigued simply because she was an innocent spinster and he enjoyed a conquest?  She felt physically ill, overcome by agonizing reminiscence, and very, very hurt all over again.

“Have a safe trip to Paris,” she ultimately said, “and I will pray that matters resolve successfully with your husband.”

“Thank you, but I do not count on his being reasonable.”

Theo would have spun to go, but before she could, a man tromped down the stairs behind Mrs. Valda.  Theo peered up, and suddenly she was staring at Soloman Grey.  In her brief conversation with Mrs. Valda, it hadn’t occurred to her that—if Mrs. Valda was at the theater—Mr. Grey was likely there too.

“Theo!”  He gasped as if not able to believe she was really standing there.

“Hello, Mr. Grey.”

Time seemed to halt, noise from the lobby fading away.  Mrs. Valda gaped at them, obviously noticing the encounter was generating strange currents, but there was no way she could identify what they might be.

“It’s lovely to see you,” he claimed.  “How are you?”

“I’m fine.  Mrs. Valda tells me your brother’s case is wrapping up.”

“Yes, I’m helping my cousin with the paperwork.”

“And how are you finding the city?”  She was stunned that they could talk like casual acquaintances.  She was so overwhelmed she could barely stay on her feet.

“It’s different than I recalled,” he said, “but the same too.”

“I didn’t realize you were in town.  No one told me.”  As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she yearned to kick herself.  Why would she have been apprised?

“Considering the circumstances that brought me, I didn’t suppose I should announce my arrival.”

“Heaven forbid the wrong people hear you were back.”

She was sure that
she
was one of those he hadn’t wished to inform.  Or perhaps his memories of her were so vague that it hadn’t dawned on him she’d like to be notified.

If she’d known he was strutting about London, she would have made arrangements to guarantee she never bumped into him.  If she’d known he was parading with Mrs. Valda, she wouldn’t have shown up in the very same theater.

How could he be so cruel?  But then, he had a cruel streak, didn’t he?  She was a living, breathing example of how pitiless he could be.

She wanted to hurt him, wanted him to suffer the kind of pain he’d caused her to suffer for months. 

Behind her, Bernard walked up.

“Theo, there you are!”  He was smiling his customary smile.  “I lost track of you in the crush.  I’ve been searching everywhere.”

His merry greeting was cut short when he noted the tension in the air.  He was a sympathetic man who’d listened to Theo’s horror stories about Egypt, so there were few secrets between them.

“Bernard,” she said, “you won’t believe who I just ran into.  This is Mr. Grey and Mrs. Valda.  I met them in Cairo.  I told you all about them, remember?”

“Oh, yes,” he quietly replied, “I remember.”

He blanched with offense and shot them a scathing look, which she appreciated.

“Mr. Grey is in London to take care of some legal business,” Theo explained, “and Mrs. Valda is hurrying to Paris to stop her husband from divorcing her.”

It was a nastily inappropriate comment, but Mrs. Valda laughed and waved it away.  “My husband is being a beast, but it is his usual condition.”

“From what I hear,” Bernard snidely retorted, “he’s been especially patient with both of you.”

Mr. Grey bristled, Mrs. Valda too, but Theo ignored them.  She glanced up at Bernard.  “Mr. Grey may be in the city for an extended period.”

“That’s too bad,” Bernard said.

Mr. Grey was incensed by the remark, and Bernard was being incredibly provoking.  As to herself, she’d never been so discourteous in her life, and she could have stood there and hurled vulgar slurs all night, but Mr. Grey was the type who’d throw a punch at Bernard, and she wasn’t about to instigate a brawl in the lobby.

“Who is your friend?” Mr. Grey demanded, his jaw and his fist clenched.

“Didn’t I introduce you?” Theo innocently asked.  “This is my fiancé, Bernard Mountbank.”

“Your fiancé?”  Mr. Grey appeared pole-axed, as if she’d delivered a hard blow, but she had no idea why he’d be upset.  She was nothing to him.  Why would it matter if she was engaged?

“Yes, my fiancé,” she blithely said.  “We’re having a Christmas wedding.”

“Congratulations,” Mr. Grey mumbled, and he glowered at Bernard, his gaze intense and excruciating.

She peered at Bernard.  “Act Two is about to start.  Shall we return to our seats?”

“Of course, darling.”  Bernard played his part perfectly.

He took her arm and escorted her down the hall and around the corner.  Once they were a distance away, she collapsed against the wall.

“My goodness, Theo,” he commiserated, “are you all right?”

“Yes.  It was just a shock.”

“I can imagine.”  He grinned.  “All of a sudden, I’ve been promoted to fiancé.”

“I’m sorry to have lied like that, but they were so smug, and I was so angry.  I wanted to bring them down a peg.  I wanted Mr. Grey to realize I haven’t missed him a single second.”

“No, you haven’t.”

With the stress of the incident waning, tears dripped down her cheeks, and she swiped them away.  “Would you be terribly disappointed if we skipped the remainder of the performance?”

“Not at all, Theo.  Let’s get you home.”

“Thank you.”

“Look at it this way, dear.  You met him face to face, and you survived it.”

“Yes, I did.”

“It will all be better from now on.”

“She’s an odd bird
, isn’t she?”

“Who?”

Soloman was in his hotel suite, leaning on the windowsill and staring out at the night sky.  He didn’t glance over at Cassandra, and he pretended he didn’t know to whom she referred.

“That Lady Theo,” Cassandra said.  “Our encounter with her at the theater was definitely peculiar.  Didn’t you think so?”

“Not particularly.”

“I’d have thought, after our acquaintance in Cairo, she’d have been a tad more civil.  And that fiancé of hers! 
Mon dieu,
but he was rude.”

“He didn’t seem to be very impressed with either of us.”

Finally, he spun toward her.  She was stretched out on the bed, naked, tempting him, but he wasn’t in the mood to be enticed.

She had no blanket covering her even though the temperature was very cool.  The fire had died down, and the wind outside was blustery, with a storm expected to blow in.

He’d forgotten how cold and unpleasant England could be, and he’d spent too much time in the hot desert sun.  Every second since he’d stepped off the ship, he’d been freezing.  Cassandra might be naked, but he was still fully dressed, with his coat on too.

He went to the fireplace and stirred the embers, then threw on a few logs he’d specifically asked the servants to supply.  He didn’t want to burn any coal.  He wanted to be reminded of the smell of the logs that were used during the winters at his father’s country house.  Those had been good years.

He’d been in London for a week, but Benjamin was away in Scotland on business, and Soloman couldn’t determine if he was glad for the delay or not.  It had meant he wasn’t staying with Benjamin, which was probably for the best.

Cassandra would have generated too much gossip, so they were enjoying the anonymity of the hotel where they had adjoining rooms.  They could open the middle door with no one being the wiser.

“When are you leaving for France, Cassandra?”

“You know when, Soloman.  On Saturday morning.  Why must you inquire over and over?  You are so distracted.  I wish you’d pay attention to me.”

“What if you arrive to find out you’re already divorced?”

“The petty oaf will not have followed through.  He is very vain, very controlling.  He is threatening simply to lure me home.”

“And when you’ve had enough of his games, then what?”

“Then I shall travel back to Cairo.  Or perhaps to some other place where the weather is warm and the men are charming.”  She raised a perfectly-plucked brow.  “Where will you be, monsieur?”

“I have no idea.”

“You will not return to Cairo?”

“I haven’t decided.”

“But you must keep me apprised of your location.  I couldn’t bear to live in a city and learn that you are not there as well.”