Resisting Romeo (Gentlemen of Intrigue Book 2)

by Samantha Grace

  “No, not worried. Reluctant. Perhaps slightly dismayed.” He rested his head against his arm and gazed at her from beneath thick, black lashes. His action was both flirtatious and conveyed vulnerability. She was torn between keeping him at arm’s length and embracing him to provide comfort. “I envy you, Claudine.”

  She blinked. “Why would you envy me?”

  “You are free to choose a life on stage. You may marry for love. The choices are your own, and you don’t have to justify them to anyone. I know I have a battle ahead, and I’m not anxious to fight it.”

  “What type of battle?”

  “I intend to make a love match.” The stroke of his knuckles across her shoulder was intentional, a secret longing he couldn’t keep hidden. Or perhaps she was reading more into his brief touches, because she wanted more to exist between them.

  “My father married to fulfill a duty,” he said, “but he loved his mistress.”

  “Oh.” She didn’t know how to respond to his revelation. She began to ease away to break the spell he had over her, but the arm of the settee was at her back.

  His forehead puckered. “My father was melancholy much of the time, at least when I was a boy. Later, after my sisters were born and the house was lively, he seemed to rally, but he always had a look in his eyes. It was like part of him was someplace else.”

  “Sometimes my papa would have that look. When I asked him about it, he said he missed my mother and his home. She died in childbirth, so I never knew her. He wanted to place flowers on her grave, but we didn’t have the means to go back to France.”

  “I am sorry you lost your mother and father. No matter how conflicted I am about my father’s choices, I loved him. I miss him.”

  She captured his hand resting on his thigh. “I offer my condolences, too.”

  He twined his fingers with hers. After dinner, they hadn’t donned their gloves again since they had been writing. His skin was smooth, and she wanted to feel his fingers nestled in her hair.

  “He took me to see her once. His mistress,” he said. “I was very young. I can’t recall what she looked like, but I can still hear my father’s laughter. That’s the only time I remember him laughing. I refuse to be like him. I won’t marry someone I don’t love.”

  Her heart melted for him a little more, which only complicated matters. He might be determined to make a love match, but he wouldn’t choose her. Gentlemen did not marry actresses. Eventually, Russell would leave this life behind and return to his estate. He would find a respectable wife to bear him an heir, and she would have his heart.

  “Claudine, there is something I should tell you.” His dark gaze held her entranced. “I’ve decided to keep the theatre. I know you want me to sell to Jonas, but I can’t. The cast and crew have become like family to one another, and I’m uncertain Jonas can manage on his own. I don’t want to see them torn apart.”

  She affectionately squeezed his hand. “Most theatre folk have no families of our own, so we create ones for ourselves.”

  “I realize how fortunate I am to have my mother and sisters, but there is a special connection between the cast and crew at the Drayton. I am a bit envious.”

  “Well, consider yourself an honorary member of the Drayton family.”

  “Do you have any honorary family I haven’t met?”

  “Not any more.” She released his hand to retrieve a miniature of Nan from a drawer of the escritoire by the window. Returning to sit on the sofa, she passed the portrait to him. It was Claudine’s favorite. It reminded her of what Nan looked like on their first encounter. “That was Nan Abby. I think of her as my mother. I lost her three years ago.”

  “She was a beautiful woman,” he murmured as he studied Nan’s likeness. Her red hair was piled on her head, and sapphires dripped from her ears.

  “Oui, and she knew it.” Claudine chuckled. “She wasn’t arrogant, mind you. She simply understood she had been blessed with beauty, and she believed it should be used accordingly. When she was on stage, she commanded every eye.”

  “Ah, Nan was an actress.” He glanced up from the miniature with a smile. “She sounds a lot like you.”

  “She would be proud to hear you say so. She taught me everything I know.” Claudine accepted the portrait from him and closed her hand around it. “Nan was the best to ever grace the stage, in my opinion.”

  “Not better than you.”

  “Oui, the best. She taught me how to hold the audience in the palm of my hand, but I was never as accomplished as she.”

  “I’ve seen you on stage, and I will never believe anyone is better than you.”

  She gave up arguing, because secretly, his insistence pleased her. She had always wanted to reach Nan’s level of perfection, and perhaps she had achieved it without realizing.

  “Nan was performing at the Theatre Royal my fifteenth summer. My father had succumbed to illness a month earlier. I had been evicted from our rented rooms the week before, and I was managing the best I could.”

  Russell frowned but said nothing.

  “I remember walking by the theatre one day and spotting Nan’s likeness on the placard. She was wearing the most stunning necklace of rubies and diamonds for that portrait. I’d never seen anything as exquisite in my life. I thought if I could get my hands on it, I could sell it and buy a meat pie. That was all I could think about in that moment. I was beginning to lose the feel of hunger gnawing at my stomach, and I understood it was a sign that something was wrong. I didn’t want to die.”

  “Claudine.” His voice washed over her, his sympathy unexpected and slightly uncomfortable. She pretended he hadn’t spoken her name with such tenderness and continued her story.

  “I was sure Nan kept that necklace in her dressing room. All I needed to do was slip inside unnoticed during rehearsal and take it.”

  “But you were caught.”

  “Oui, Nan returned to find me tearing her room apart.”

  “What did she do?”

  “She scared me half to death with her threats.” She smiled at the memory. “I really thought she was going to hang me by my toenails and feed me to the lions at the Royal Menagerie.”

  Russell laughed under his breath. “She sounds like she was vicious.”

  “She could sound very vicious, but I soon found out she was nothing of the sort. She stood in the doorway blocking my escape and demanded I tell her where to find my parents. It took a bit of wheedling, but I finally admitted the truth. Once she learned I was an orphan, her eyes filled with tears. Can you imagine? Here was this beautiful woman who’d caught me trying to steal from her, and she was crying for me.” Claudine shook her head. She was still incredulous after all this time that Nan had taken pity on her. “She brought me a big bowl of nuts and figs and ordered me to eat. Then she sat down and talked to me like I was worth her notice.”

  “Because you were.”

  “That night she brought me to stay at her rented rooms. She was a successful actress and able to support herself if she lived modestly. The next morning, she insisted I return to the theatre and become her apprentice. I don’t remember a discussion about me living with her. I think we both realized we belonged together.”

  “You were destined to find one another.”

  She smiled, her heart expanding. “Yes, it was destiny, I believe. I learned later Nan was an orphan, too. Her uncle and aunt took her in; even though there was barely enough to feed their own children, they welcomed Nan. I think she wanted to care for me like her family had cared for her.”

  “I’m glad you found one another.”

  “So am I.” She hadn’t spoken of Nan in a long time, and remembering her fondly soothed an ache she hadn’t realized was still there.

  The front door opened and Benny called for Russell.

  He sighed. “I suppose I should say goodnight.” Locking eyes, he raised her hand to his lips and pressed a lingering kiss on her bare skin. His breath brushed across her hand and created gooseflesh along her arms
. “Until tomorrow, Miss Bellerose.”

  “Bonne nuit, monsieur.”

  RESISTING ROMEO

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  When Russell arrived at the theatre for rehearsal the next morning, he was filled with optimism. What Claudine, Benny, and he had added to the play partly accounted for the extra bounce to his step, but Claudine herself was mainly responsible.

  Last night she had allowed him to see her true self, and he liked that woman a great deal. She was definitely responsible for him whistling as he hurried toward the cast and crew entrance. If he wanted to be one of them, he needed to stop behaving like the owner and coming through the front door.

  He wasn’t the only one in a rush, however. As soon as he reached the door, it flew open and a man almost plowed into him.

  “Pardon me, sir,” he said.

  Russell’s eyebrows lowered as he took in the man’s worn clothes. “Who are you?”

  “I am the guard hired to watch the back entrance.”

  It seemed Jonas had been a trifle stingy with the new hires. Russell would review the men’s wages this afternoon to make certain they were receiving their fair due and provide better incentive for performing their jobs. “You left your post.”

  “Er...” The man’s face flushed a deep red, but he snapped to attention with a rigid back and no hint of a smile. “Yes, sir. My apologies. I needed to make use of the necessary.”

  “Very well, but don’t make a habit of leaving the door unattended.”

  “Yes, sir. I won’t, sir.”

  Russell supposed he’d shocked the fellow by arriving at the back door. He pulled himself up to full height, imitating the man’s formal manner and said, “Carry on, soldier.”

  The man’s eyes narrowed as if he thought Russell might be an escaped Bedlamite and he held the door wide for him to enter while trying to keep his distance.

  Ah, well. The Drayton cast and crew would grow accustomed to his waggishness eventually.

  Russell shook off the disappointing start to his first day as just one of the players and entered the dark theatre. He could hear hammering above him. The crew had been working behind a curtain upstage, which did nothing to block the noise. Fortunately, the stage setting was almost complete. It would be nice to have quiet during rehearsal. Sometimes he could barely hear Jonas shouting orders over the cacophony.

  He took the stairs and entered a door on the auditorium level. As usual, Claudine had already arrived and was waiting for him on stage. Her face lit with a bright smile when she spotted him. “Oliver heartily approves of the new scene. He is gathering the cast and crew to sit in on the reading. I made a few minor changes after you left last night.” She started for the stage stairs. “Let me show you. I would like your opinion.”

  She glided down the stairs and met him in the front row with the script. Her precise handwriting was a testament to her pursuit of perfection. He wasn’t surprised that she’d continued to work on the play last night. He led her to one of the seats, and once she was seated, he took the place next to her. She read the scene over his shoulder, which annoyed him immensely when one of his sisters did the same thing, but he didn’t mind with Claudine. It brought her close and allowed him a whiff of the subtle lilac scent she wore.

  When he reached the end, he lowered the pages to his lap. “I must admit you have turned a good scene into something brilliant. Excellent work, Miss Bellerose.”

  Her rosy cheeks plumped when she smiled. “Thank you.”

  Jonas walked out of the wings from behind the crimson curtain with several of the players in tow. He bellowed for the crew, and the hammering ceased. He waved for Claudine and Russell. “Get off your bums and come up here.”

  The manager grinned, proving he was in high spirits despite his gruff tone.

  Once everyone was seated and Claudine and Russell were in place, he ordered them to begin reading. Russell injected as much liveliness into the reading as he’d shown when he and Benny were sparring in Claudine’s drawing room.

  Halfway through the scene, Benny burst onto the stage right on cue. Their audience gasped and applauded when they realized he was supposed to be there, wielding a battered walking stick. He would have a sword the night of the performance, but Benny had found a suitable substitute for now. The walking stick was definitely a step up from Claudine’s parasol.

  The big fellow danced a jig that had cast and crew laughing and cheering for more. He bowed repeatedly, proving he was quite the showman.

  Russell glanced at Claudine to see if she was bothered by his antics since she took her craft so seriously, but she seemed to be enjoying herself as much as everyone else. The color was high in her cheeks, and her eyes sparkled in the bright theatre light.

  Eventually, Jonas interrupted the revelry and told everyone to get back to work. “I expect the costumes ready by the end of the week, and I want the set done today,” he barked as the crowd was clearing from the auditorium. “Benny, you stay. Let’s block this scene and rehearse it until it’s flawless.”

  Benny inclined his head. “Yes, sir.”

  “Natalia, you stay as well. If we need you to go on in Claudine’s place, I want you ready.”

  “I am always ready,” Natalia said and winked at Claudine.

  Jonas directed Benny to return to the wings to await his cue, and he had Natalia move downstage to observe. “I want to start with the fight scene, since it will take the most choreography. Russell, begin with the part where you tell Claudine to return to Devon.”

  Russell and Claudine angled their bodies, so it appeared they were square with one another, while allowing their voices to carry to the audience. He stood up straight, rolled his shoulders back, and took a deep breath like Claudine had taught him.

  “You are returning to Devon. I won’t hear any more arguments. Your life is in danger.”

  “I won’t leave without my father, not when I know he is alive.”

  “Now I want you to grab her by the shoulders,” Jonas interjected. “You are going to make her listen for her own good. You might even shake her a little.”

  Russell arched a brow, seeking her permission before laying hands on her. When she nodded, he did as instructed, bringing his face close to hers. “Lucinda, do not trifle with this man. He has threatened you. Don’t fool yourself into thinking you are safe, because you are a woman.”

  Jonas gestured for Benny. “I want you to run at Russell and yell a battle cry.”

  Claudine laughed. “Now, why would he warn them of his attack?”

  “We are going for dramatic effect.” Jonas grinned. “Trust me on this one.”

  “Very well,” she said with a shrug, the movement shifting Russell’s hands, since Jonas hadn’t directed him to release her. He slid his hands to just above her elbows as he waited to resume the scene.

  The manager snapped his fingers. “When you’re ready, Benny.”

  A loud crack and splintering noise came from the trapdoor beneath Claudine’s feet. A small catch of her breath triggered a bolt of terror in Russell. Time slowed, yet everything happened in a flash. The trapdoor broke in two, and she was slipping through his fingers. He threw his arms around her chest, trapping her body against his, and hauled her to safety. The door crashed to the traproom floor eight feet below.

  Natalia screamed. Jonas and Benny rushed forward, crowding Claudine and Russell.

  “Miss Claudine, are you hurt?”

  She couldn’t seem to find her voice, and she was so pale.

  Russell dropped his arms to her waist, closed his eyes, and hugged her tight. The stage was solid under their feet. She was safe, but his body trembled. She clung to him and buried her face into his neck; her jagged breath echoed in his ear.

  “How the hell did this happen?” Jonas bent down on one knee to examine the gaping hole. “The latch didn’t break. The whole door split in two. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  Suddenly, Russell’s fear demanded release. Surrendering Claudine to Benny’s ca
re, he grabbed Jonas by the scruff of his neck and dragged him to his feet. “How the hell do you think this happened? When was the last time you invested in the upkeep of the theatre?” He flung his arm in Claudine’s direction. Natalia had come forward to hug her, offering comfort.

  “Claudine could have been severely injured.” Russell’s voice grew louder with each word. “She could have been killed.”

  “This isn’t my fault,” Jonas said with a growl and bared his teeth. “I take care of the theatre and the players. I personally check the trapdoor daily. The board must have had a flaw that couldn’t be detected.”

  Russell took a step forward with his fist raised. He wanted to rip the bastard apart. “Get someone who bloody well knows what he is doing. I want a craftsman in today. The best.”

  “The stagehands can repair it.”

  “Find a damned carpenter, or so help me, I will beat you senseless.”

  Natalia slanted a glance in his direction then quietly slipped away.

  “Russell,” Claudine said in a soft voice. “A carpenter isn’t necessary. Oliver is correct. The stagehands can replace the door.”

  “I said no!”

  She flinched, and he regretted his harsh tone. He drew in a shaky breath, harnessing his temper, and when he spoke next, he strained to sound calm. “The Drayton needs to be safe for everyone. I want this problem solved the correct way, so this doesn’t happen again.”

  She nodded, her eyes wide.

  “You are right. I don’t want any of my players injured.” Jonas exhaled and his shoulders sank as the fight drained from him. “Upon my honor, I check the door every morning. I’m sorry, Claudine.”

  “I am all right.” She met Russell’s gaze. “No one is to blame. It was an accident.”

  He inclined his head, acknowledging her unspoken request that he stop arguing with Jonas. But his heart was still ramming against his ribs, and he couldn’t strike from his mind the image of her helpless expression when she sensed she was in danger. Someone had to be at fault. Otherwise, the crack in the trapdoor was random, and random events were unpredictable and beyond his control.