The Actor and the Earl (22 page)

“We will think of something, Sebastian. I promise.” She squeezed him tight. “Does Crofton claim to care for you at all?”

“I thought he did,” he said.

“Then maybe we can work something out, find a way to pay him back. He may allow you some time.”

Sebastian sniffed loudly and pulled out of Claire’s embrace, wiping his eyes and nose on the back of his sleeve. “You are probably right. But now all I can think is how much of an idiot I have been.”

“Come, Sebastian, a good night’s sleep will do you well. It is a natural cure for many of life’s ills.”

Sebastian’s wedding ring, still on his right hand from when he moved it after changing out of Bronwyn’s clothes, mocked him with the dullness of its surface. He slid it off and handed it Claire. “Please put this somewhere. I cannot bear to look upon it.”

Chapter 19

S
LEEP
had done little to settle Sebastian’s fraught emotions, but the exhaustion had at least lifted. Claire looked sympathetic over breakfast, and Sebastian, who barely touched the food, refused to talk to her further on the subject of Anthony.

“Should I write to Bronwyn?” she asked.

“Good lord, no! After the inevitable I-told-you-so speech on how I have been a complete fool, I do not wish to have to watch her be executed for murder when she descends on Crofton Hall to confront Anthony.”

Claire sighed but didn’t argue. “So what will you do today? If I am honest, I did not expect you to leave your room for several days.”

“I refuse to sit around and brood. I may have played a woman, but I am not one. First things first, I need to return the horse, and then I am going to see if I can find some work.”

“You do not need to rush, Sebastian. Father has not decreased the allowance to keep the house running, even though both you and Bronwyn have left.”

Sebastian shook his head. “It will do me no good to sit here and do nothing. At least I can try the theaters for work—maybe I can pick up something.”

Before he left, Claire fussed over him, pulling on the collar of his doublet until he batted her hands away. “Promise me you will not worry if you don’t find anything straightaway.”

Escaping her attentions, Sebastian went through the house to the courtyard, and was pleased to see that the horse he had borrowed had been fed and showed no sign of fatigue. He checked the saddle and the rest of the tack, and then mounted, guiding it out into the London streets. Sebastian suspected by how the stallion handled the busy roads that Anthony or someone in his household must’ve used this horse in the city before, as, apart from the occasional whinny, he behaved impeccably.

Outside the Crofton townhouse, Sebastian dismounted and walked the stallion through to the courtyard. He spotted one of the young boys who ran errands for the kitchen staff and handed him the reins. “This is the earl’s horse. See that he hears that it has been returned safely.”

The boy nodded, and Sebastian slipped away before he could be asked any questions.

He headed across London, his familiarity with the city lightening his heart a little. Crossing over the bridge, he walked along the Thames to the theater district and caught sight of a familiar face outside the entrance of the Swan.

“Philip!” he shouted.

The man who’d played Benedick to his Beatrice turned around to see who’d called his name and, spying Sebastian, grinned broadly and waved him over.

“Sebastian, I haven’t seen you for months! Where the devil have you been hiding?”

“My sister ran off to Kent, and I had to go and find her,” he said, rushing over the words to hide the lie and accepting Philip’s friendly hug in greeting.

“Family. The bane of a sane man’s life.”

“Very true, my friend. So, are you appearing in something here?” he asked, gesturing toward the theater.

“We’re doing
Two Gentleman of Verona
—again. But it seems to be popular so we can’t be picky. Work is work after all. And you?”

“Well, that is why I’m very glad to run into you.” Sebastian had always found it awkward asking for this kind of help, but he had no choice at the moment, and if he could save a morning trekking from theater to theater to find only dead ends, then he’d ask. “Have you heard of anyone auditioning? I’m willing to try out for anything… I need to earn some money.”

Philip patted him on the shoulder. “You’re a bit old for the young heroine now,” he said, but not unkindly. “You could try your luck at the Rose—they’re looking for a few extras for a Marlowe, but if I’m honest, Sebastian, I’m not sure you’ll have much success. Not with so many travelling actors returning to the city now that winter is setting in.”

Sebastian knew it was what he should’ve expected to hear, but it didn’t make the words any less disappointing. “Can you think of anything else?”

“The Globe is after people to work behind the scenes, if you’re willing to forego the actual acting,” said Philip, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “People are always after jobs, but I don’t think you’ll have a problem since you know how theaters really work.”

“Showmanship and a large cloud of face powder.”

“Exactly.” Philip laughed. “I’m sorry, but I must go or I’ll be late for rehearsal. It was good to see you, Sebastian. If you’re staying in London, I insist we meet for a drink or six.”

Philip hurried away, and Sebastian set off in the direction of the Globe, a little further down South Bank. As he passed through the entrance gate, the atmosphere that he always associated with the theater washed over him, the magic of the stage making the hair stand up on the back of his neck. There was a buzz about the Globe. A group of actors were on stage, one lying on his side while three others stood around him reciting their lines. Sebastian lingered awhile to watch. They stopped and started, cursed about the phrasing, or swapped places, claiming that the new positions were better.

“Can I help you?” asked a short man carrying a pile of costumes. He couldn’t have been much older than Sebastian, but his grimace made him older, as did his flushed cheeks, the redness clashing with his ginger hair.

“I’m looking for a job.”

“So is ’alf of London. Piss off.”

Sebastian glowered at him, doubting the other man would have any power over hiring anybody. “I was told the theater needs people to work behind the scenes.”

The man looked Sebastian up and down. “We need people to lug boxes and crawl about to set the scenery, not some pretty boy in fine clothes who’ll moan if he gets a bit dirty.”

Sebastian knew he was still dressed in the clothes Anthony had bought him, and while they were expensive, they were so rumpled he couldn’t seriously believe anyone would take his appearance to mean he was too good for menial work. “I am more than happy to crawl about under the stage or cart anything that needs carting.”

“Jonah, what are you doing?” The question came from an older man dressed in expensive clothes who had the most piercing gray eyes Sebastian had ever seen.

“He says he wants a job,” answered Jonah, nodding at Sebastian.

“And what has that to do with you? Get those costumes to the seamstress and stop dawdling.”

Jonah muttered something under his breath but went on his way.

“He is keen, but annoying,” said the newcomer, holding out his hand to shake, which Sebastian did. “The name’s David Chapel. And I’m positive I know you from somewhere.”

“I’ve been an actor—women mainly,” said Sebastian, hoping that was from where he was recognized and not from David being an acquaintance of Anthony and having met him as Bronwyn.

David’s eyes narrowed, and he squinted at Sebastian. “Beatrice. The Swan. Late March. Am I right?”

“Yes,” replied Sebastian, relieved. “I’ve been a few others, but I’m getting a little too old to wear a dress and be convincing.”

“Alas, time and tide waits for no man.”

“Unfortunately so.”

David slapped Sebastian’s back good-naturedly. “Jonah said you were looking for work? I’m afraid the play is fully cast. But if you’re willing, we need help with sorting out props and costumes, and other general dog’s body work.”

Sebastian agreed readily. The pay was not overwhelming, but at least he’d found a job that had an income, and he would be able to contribute to the household. And although he may never act again, he was working at the theater, which was better than some of the other jobs the city had to offer. Sebastian was told to return the next morning, dressed and ready to perform manual labor, and then sent on his way. He returned to the townhouse with an extra spring in his step, which was quickly quashed when he saw Claire waiting for him, holding a letter.

Sebastian turned the letter over in his hand, immediately recognizing Anthony’s seal on the back. A small part of him wanted to cast it unread into a fire, but a much larger part desperately wanted to hear what Anthony had to say.

He took the letter to the parlor, closing the door on Claire as she tried to follow, and whispered his apology to the woodwork. He didn’t want an audience for this.

The wax seal broke as he slid his finger under it.

Sebastian,

I write to ask for your forgiveness, and for you to return home to Crofton Hall. I feel the deepest, heartfelt regret that I have wronged you in such a fashion, and I am haunted by the distress I saw marring your face, knowing I am the one who put it there.

I miss your company, the time we spend together. I only ask that you give me the chance to redeem myself.

Anthony

Sebastian sank into a chair, the letter crumpled in his hand. That settled it. Any last vestiges of hope he’d had of returning to Crofton Hall were gone. He couldn’t spend his days pining after a man who did not love him. Anthony was fond of him, but that was as far as it went, and that was not enough. He should’ve heeded his sister’s warnings, but it was already too late by then. Sebastian knew what he had to do now was to was protect himself from further hurt, to put Anthony behind him and rebuild his life. He walked over to the desk situated in the corner of the room, picked up a quill, and selected a sheet of paper.

My Dearest Anthony,

Your words of apology are received with thanks, but more so with sadness, for they confirm what I have known all along. I am to you, despite the months we have spent together, nothing more than a convenience. For me, our arrangement grew into more, but to you, I am but an actor playing a small role in the epic play that is the grand life of Earl Crofton. I have longed for you to return the feelings I have grown as I lay in your arms, but I see now I must put away such hopeless dreams.

I wish you no ill, my love, but I cannot return to play this charade, as I fear each day my heart will break further until there is little more than a sliver left, and I will fade away.

At the moment, I do not have the funds to repay the money you paid to have Bronwyn as a wife. I have found work, and would ask you to grant me some time to amass the sum the Hewel family owes you.

If you do have even the slightest modicum of love for me, I beseech you to leave me in peace to grieve the loss of something I never truly had.

With my love,

Sebastian

Chapter 20

H
E
WAS
glad to find a set of his old clothes in his room from when he’d stayed at the townhouse before the wedding. Only when he put them on did he realize how much weight he’d lost because of Bronwyn’s corset limiting his appetite. The clothes Anthony’s tailor had made for him had already compensated for the difference. At least he hadn’t needed to sew the waistband of the breeches smaller, even though they hung off his frame in a less than flattering manner.

Being an actor had made Sebastian conscious of his appearance. He’d lost parts for not being the right fit for a role, but as he left the townhouse, he was thankful that his new job didn’t care about his build or coloring. All he needed to be able to do was follow simple orders and not annoy too many people.

On arrival, Sebastian was put to work shifting trunks full of items left over from the previous play, with instructions to sort their contents into things that could be used as is or those that would need adapting. There were piles of material and fake weapons next to pieces of wood in various shapes, ranging from simple squares to elaborate lattices. Keeping busy meant his mind wasn’t allowed to wander back to the letter he’d sent the evening before, or the reason behind having to send it. The rest of the theater staff was friendly, and his day flew by, filled with one task after another. On the rare occasion Sebastian found himself with nothing to do, he was soon employed elsewhere, usually after receiving a flagon of beer or something to eat.