Colin just smiled at them both and relaxed against the door, his arms crossed over his chest.
“Your grace,” Sadie began, her accent laced with heavy sarcasm, “I had no idea you could be so very deceitful.”
“I adore fine music,” he returned with a shrug, though he never dropped his hard gaze from Brixham.
“Where is it?” Sadie charged. “What kind of deal do you want, bringing us here when you can sell it yourself?”
“Stop talking,” Brixham finally uttered, his tone low and raw. “This isn’t about music.”
The Frenchwoman momentarily glanced at the earl, pulling a face of distaste. Then she turned her back on him, effectively ignoring his demand.
“Why did you bring us here, Colin?” she asked, moving slowly toward him. “Where is the music?”
“I want answers from him,” he said, keeping his voice light in spite of his resentment and tightly controlled fury. “Why are you here, Brixham?”
“How do you know each other?” she asked with a growing suspicion.
A sudden knock at the door interrupted them. Colin reached behind him to turn the knob, never taking his eyes off his brother-in-law. “How convenient for us all,” he said jovially. “The police have arrived.”
Both Sadie and the earl took a step back in a brush of panic as Sir Thomas entered, pulling down on his cuffs.
“Your grace,” he said with a nod and his usual stately flair. Then he turned and acknowledged Brixham. “My lord, you seem disturbed.”
Indeed, the man looked increasingly uncomfortable, his face red, his lips almost white as they stretched across his teeth.
“He’s not disturbed, Sir Thomas,” Colin replied for him, closing the door again. “I just don’t think he’s enjoying the opera very much, especially when someone might notice just how closely he resembles the leading lady.”
Sadie recovered herself quickly. “I think I need to be on the stage—”
“Not so fast, miss,” Sir Thomas cut in, smiling. “I’m here at the request of his grace, the Duke of Newark, and I think he wants this party to continue.” He glanced at Colin. “Am I right?”
“Oh, absolutely,” he agreed. “And since you’re only in the chorus, I don’t suppose anyone will notice your absence if you don’t return for the final act.”
Sadie blinked, made speechless as she looked him up and down.
He ignored her, staying focused on his brother-in-law as he discarded the pretense of humor, his expression turning to one of contempt. “I’ll ask you a final time. Why are you here, Brixham?”
The sudden commotion of Lottie’s arrival, the sound of her voice outside the dressing room, kept the man from an immediate answer, though sweat had beaded on his forehead and he pulled at his collar as if it choked him.
“Sir Thomas is not from the police,” he said, his voice pinched, “and this little inquest is a sham. I am here only for the welfare of my sister because I heard someone is trying to steal her priceless manuscript.”
Sadie gasped. “That’s a lie. Lottie’s not his sister—”
“Shut up, you ignorant girl,” Brixham spat, his eyes narrowed to slits.
“What is going on?” she asked, anger replacing her confusion.
Colin shrugged. “Let’s ask Lottie, shall we?”
According to plan, he opened the door a second time and his wife entered, eyes sparkling, her cheeks dewy and pink from her exertion on the stage—until she beheld her brother standing next to Sadie.
She stopped short at Colin’s side, casting a quick glance to everyone in the room, her face going pale as she suddenly realized just who was behind the treachery. She started shaking, and he reached down for her hand and held it tightly.
“You were saying, Brixham?” he repeated. “Please explain to your sister why you did this.”
“I did nothing,” the man said in a whispered fury.
Sadie took two steps back and dropped into the chair at her vanity, gaping at them. “My lord, she is not a lady,” she murmured, seemingly in an effort to convince herself more than anyone else in the room.
Colin drew in a deep breath and acknowledged her for the first time. “Not only is she a lady, Miss Piaget, she is my wife, the Duchess of Newark. And I believe it’s time you showed her a little more respect than you have thus far.”
Sadie’s eyes grew round as saucers, and she appeared, for the first time, as if she might faint.
Brixham suddenly straightened, pulling down on his coat tails, and began walking toward the door in an attempt to leave the room. Sir Thomas quickly positioned himself in front of the man, his own expression now hard with distaste.
“I’d like you to explain yourself as well, my lord,” he said coldly. “Did you, in fact, seek to harm your sister in an effort to secure a rare piece of music?”
Brixham took a step back, appalled as he looked the older man up and down. “Of course not.”
“He wouldn’t hurt me,” Charlotte said at last, her voice dampened by shock. “But you would steal the Handel masterwork, wouldn’t you, Charles? Did you think to sell it to pay off your debts?”
Brixham wiped the sweat off his expansive forehead with the back of his hand. “This is not the place to discuss this—”
“Oh, I think it’s the perfect place to discuss this,” Charlotte chided, color returning to her face as she grew more incensed by the second.
“We’re all here and dressed for the occasion,” Colin added. “You have about five minutes to do so before your sister takes the stage again.”
His wife released his hand and planted her fists on her hips as she moved closer to her brother to confront him. “How did you know I owned it, Charles?”
“He saw it,” Sadie replied for him, her composure returning. “At least that’s what he told me.”
“Shut up!” Brixham bellowed.
“I will not,” she countered, standing again and facing him. “You told me you saw it once, but you failed to tell me the details. Is this why? Because Lottie English is your sister?”
The Earl of Brixham looked as if he might explode.
Colin crossed his arms over his chest as he slowly began to walk toward his brother-in-law. “How did you find out about the music? Charlotte had it hidden and said she told nobody.”
Still, the earl refused to answer until at last Sir Thomas cleared his throat. “Perhaps you’d be more comfortable discussing this with a detective, my lord—”
“Absolutely not,” he cut in, the fear of disgrace loosening his tongue. “I want nothing to do with the police.”
“Good,” Sir Thomas replied, clasping his hands behind him. “Now, you were just about to say?”
Brixham swallowed so hard his Adam’s apple appeared to get stuck. Then finally, seething, he looked directly at Charlotte and replied, “I knew you had it. Your tutor came to see me soon after I forbade you to continue with your ridiculous lessons. I explained to him that you needed to marry, to quit your singing nonsense, and settle down as a lady of your station. The stage is not the place for the sister of an earl!”
Sadie winced; Sir Thomas dropped his shaking head. Even Colin was taken aback by the man’s vehemence. But Charlotte seemed unmoved by her brother’s confession, remaining self-possessed as she began to draw her own conclusions.
“Sir Randolph told you he was going to give it to me, didn’t he, Charles?” she asked matter-of-factly. “He told you he knew of my dreams, that he was going to give me the music to secure my future.” She shook her head in disdain. “But why look for it now? I’ve owned it for years.”
Brixham glared at her. “Because you haven’t sold it and left for the Continent, have you, Charlotte? And here you are again tonight, in London, risking our family name by appearing in this…costume.” He threw Colin a look of disgust. “Even your husband hasn’t been able to curb this indecency.”
In controlled fury, Charlotte replied, “There is nothing indecent about opera. And my husband is a fai
r-minded gentleman who knows I belong on the stage.”
“You belong at home having babies!”
Suddenly livid, Colin walked to his brother-in-law, grabbed him by his tidy cravat, and shoved him up against the wall. “What she does now is no longer up to you,” he muttered through clenched teeth.
“Colin, stop it,” Charlotte said from behind him.
Brixham looked startled and unable to speak.
Reigning in his anger, he loosened his grip on his brother-in-law, but his gaze never left the man’s face. “Why now?”
“I wanted Lottie English gone,” he replied at once, seething through his words. “With the sale of such a rare manuscript, I could rid myself of the threat of her being discovered, then live in luxury the rest of my life, my debts wiped clean.” He raised his chin a fraction and looked directly at Charlotte. “If you weren’t going to sell it to save us, I would.”
Colin released the man abruptly and took a step back as clarity washed over him. “You’re responsible for her invitation to Italy, aren’t you?”
“What?” Charlotte said through a fast breath.
Brixham’s eyes narrowed. “Unhand me, sir.”
Colin released him and stood back, but with one glance at Sadie and the smug, crooked smile on her face, he knew he was right in his assessment.
“And you knew about it, didn’t you?” he directed to the Frenchwoman.
“I don’t believe this,” Charlotte cried out from behind him.
“It’s true, isn’t it, Brixham?” he murmured, fisting his hands at his sides. “What did you do, contact the theater managers directly? Offer to pay for her because you’d so soon have the funds? Having her leave for the Continent would be a relief to you, wouldn’t it?”
“Charles, tell me that’s not true,” Charlotte whispered, moving closer to her brother.
“Of course it’s true,” Colin replied for him. “And he told Sadie, which is why she knew of the opportunities before you did.” He looked at the Frenchwoman again. “What did he promise you? Money? And the ridiculous notion that you’d be left here to take her place?”
Utter silence reigned supreme for a long, tense moment. Yet even when faced with the evidence of his own deceit, the Earl of Brixham couldn’t acknowledge it.
Finally, Sir Thomas inhaled a deep breath and blew it out loudly. “Unfortunately, although the two of you deserve to be fed to the ridicule of the lions of society, I see no crime here—”
“Yes, there is,” Colin cut in, looking at Sadie. “Someone tried to hurt my wife physically.”
“I had nothing whatsoever to do with that,” Brixham blurted defensively. “I never asked anyone to hurt my sister; the thought appalls me.”
“Because she’s managed to help you out of debt by marrying me?” he returned snidely.
The earl said nothing, though his lips pinched distastefully, as if he had to force himself to keep his tongue in check.
The Frenchwoman fumed, looking from one to the other, realizing with only the briefest shadow of horror to cross her features, that she now had everyone’s attention.
Crossing her arms over her breasts and lifting her chin, she fairly barked, “I challenge you to prove I had anything to do with it.”
Colin supposed he probably couldn’t, and they all knew it. Still, he couldn’t help but goad the woman into incriminating herself.
“Prove it? Maybe not. But I think I’ll have Lottie make a list of all the sundry ‘mishaps’ that have be-fallen her lately, then ask the police to check into them, comparing each instance to whatever you might have been doing during those particular times.” His gaze narrowed to slits as one corner of his mouth twitched. “When questioned by the authorities, people tend to reveal all, Miss Piaget. You would do well to look into your affairs. I suspect you’re about to find yourself in very deep water.”
“Or arrested,” Sir Thomas chimed in good-naturedly.
Eyes wide, Sadie took a step back, licking her lips. Then a sudden knock at the door startled everyone, and before a response could be made, one of the cast members peeked in, her painted brows rising high when she took in the strange view.
“Uh, Lottie, two minutes,” the girl mumbled hesitantly. “And you need to change costumes.”
Colin glanced back at his wife. She looked pale and anxious, and utterly beside herself with anger and dejection. He could read her face like a book.
The muffled sound of music began anew, saving Colin from taking three steps forward and killing his brother-in-law for causing her so much hurt for so many years. Instead, he reached for Charlotte’s hand and turned her around to face him.
“We’ll finish this later,” he said with a tentative smile. “Right now, you’re needed on the stage.”
He could see the hesitation in her eyes, the shock and confusion and frustration in her features. He cupped her cheek with his palm and murmured, “Go and sing and make me proud, my beautiful duchess. You are the star.”
She nodded and tried to smile in return. Then glancing back to her brother, she hissed, “We’re not through with this conversation, Charles.”
Brixham scoffed and looked away as his sister walked from the dressing room. Sadie stood and brushed her palms down her costume. “I’m needed as well.”
“I don’t think so,” Sir Thomas chimed in. “In fact, I think it’s high time we began investigating your involvement in this scheme.”
Sadie glared at him. “I need to sing.”
Colin replied, “As I said before, you’re in the chorus. You won’t be missed.”
“How dare you!”
“I suppose I could follow you,” Sir Thomas interjected, “make certain you don’t corrupt the performance with any antics.”
The Frenchwoman gasped. “Antics?”
“An excellent idea,” Colin said. “If you must be on stage, Sir Thomas can watch you from behind the curtain, and then the two of you can continue your little chat when the performance ends.”
“This is ridiculous,” she spat.
“Not as ridiculous as your thinking you could ever compare yourself to the grace, beauty and talent of Lottie English,” he murmured, his words overflowing with contempt.
She gasped at his gall.
Colin ignored her, glancing a final time to his brother-in-law. “I’m sure you’ll not want to miss the third act, Brixham,” he said wryly. “It’s time for the world to discover who Lottie really is.”
His eyes opened wide as the sweat began to roll down his reddened cheeks. “You wouldn’t,” he warned in a choked whisper.
He shook his head and chuckled. “Oh, I would. With pleasure.”
Then he turned his back on them, nodded once to Sir Thomas, and quit the dressing room.
Chapter 24
Even after all the turmoil she’d just endured, with a new anger and sorrow bubbling up in her heart, Charlotte would always be a professional singer, the star of English opera, beloved by her country. Although her identity would remain a mystery for now, she would never give anything less than her best with each performance, regardless of place or part.
And so she didn’t.
The third act went as perfectly as she could have ever dreamed; even Porano, oblivious to what had just transpired with her behind the stage, sang flawlessly. The night was indeed magical, made even more so because her husband had stood beside her, in every possible way, defending not only her honor, but her choices as a woman, to her scoundrel of a brother and the ignorant girl she’d actually considered a friend.
She had no idea what her future would bring now that she’d learned the truth behind her offers to perform in Italy. But as she sang her last this night, at the end of the opening night for Balfe’s The Bohemian Girl revival, it hardly mattered to her anymore.
As the cheers erupted, Charlotte curtsied deeply to the adoring public with tears in her eyes as they one by one began to stand to salute her performance. She’d never felt more revered in her life as minute after minut
e passed with unending applause, some shouting “Bravo!” and ladies in finery handing her flowers from the edge of the stage.
Charlotte acknowledged the orchestra, then Porano and Walter as they took their places beside her, bowing to the crowd, Adamo making a grand example of Italian joviality as he grabbed her and kissed her once on each cheek.
And then as sudden as it was odd, a hush fell upon the audience, as the cheering and clapping turned to murmurs, the roar of adulation swiftly changing to a low drone of whispered conversation.
Charlotte turned, noticing at once what had caused the commotion.
From the side of the stage, her husband appeared, stately and dashing as always as he began to walk toward her.
“What is your lover doing on the stage?” Porano whispered through his forced smile.
Charlotte didn’t answer him. Excitement and a surge of tenderness welled up inside of her to the point of nearly overflowing when she caught sight of the enormous bouquet of red roses he held nestled in one arm.
In all the years he had admired her from afar, he had never given her flowers. That this night was his first to do so made the gesture so much more meaningful, and it instantly brought back the memory of the evening they met in her dressing room all those months ago. That night she had been nervous and overwhelmed by the handsome man who gingerly propositioned her. Tonight, with his gaze locked with hers, looking more handsome than she’d ever seen him, he emanated a devotion for her so powerful it took her breath away.
For seconds, she couldn’t speak. Then, her throat closed tight with emotion, she whispered, “Colin…”
“My darling Lottie,” he replied, his eyes filled with adoration and a trace of amusement. “You are, and will always be, the prima donna of the London opera.”
As if escaping a trance, Charlotte became aware of the crowd once more, staring at her, some of them undoubtedly appalled that the married Duke of Newark so callously took the stage to salute his lover.
Recovering herself, she curtsied, then took the roses he offered as she replied, “Thank you, your grace. I’m—so glad you could attend this opening night.”
The Duke’s Indiscretion Page 28
