by Joanna Shupe
“I was not the one who broke into your office before,” Pendleton choked out.
“What?”
Pendleton took advantage of Julius’s momentary surprise and pushed him back a step. “That’s right. Your fiancée’s precious uncle was responsible for that.”
Former fiancée, but Julius didn’t bother correcting the man. News of the broken engagement had been made public today, even though Julius refused to believe it was truly broken. “Cortland?” Julius could hardly believe it, breath escaping in a rush. Why would Nora’s uncle destroy Julius’s office?
Pendleton snickered. “You’ve never even asked who the other investors were. Are you not curious?”
“Of course,” Julius forced out. “Are you saying Cortland was one of them?”
“Yes, he and a man named Allenson, who died of cholera a few years back.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“Puts you in a bit of a spot, doesn’t it, Hatcher? Can’t have you exacting revenge on your fiancée’s uncle. And you can say good-bye to your social standing and membership at Gotham if you try anything with me.”
Pulling back his arm, he punched Pendleton square in the jaw, and the other man slumped to the floor. “I don’t give a damn about my social standing or Gotham. I’m prepared to make you wish you’d never been born, Pendleton, and to hell with the consequences.”
The posh uptown crowd packed the downtown Athena Theater. Nora surveyed the ostrich plumes and diamonds and tried not to be hurt that Julius hadn’t invited her. Hadn’t even told her of buying the theater. So much for honesty, she supposed.
I have never lied to you.
Yes, but secrets had the power to wound as well.
Mr. Tripp, or Frank as he’d insisted, had allowed her to invite Kathleen and Anne, along with their parents, as well as the Cortlands. The atmosphere was gay, their large festive group surrounding Nora with a joy she could no longer feel. She only hoped that Julius bought her charade.
God above, she missed that man.
Missed him with a fierce longing she hadn’t experienced before, as if part of her heart had been carved out of her chest. News of the broken engagement had swept along Fifth Avenue, even—ironically—a mention in the Town Talk column of the newspaper. She caught the pitying glances, the smirks, as the ladies didn’t bother to hide their curiosity or their whispers. His former mistress . . . bought her a theater . . . poor Lady Nora.
But Frank had been right: cowering was not in Nora’s nature.
The largest box, the one directly in the center, remained empty. It didn’t take a genius to guess the box was reserved for the theater owner. Should Julius actually sit there he would be well within Nora’s line of sight. The prospect of staring at him all evening almost had her out of her seat and heading for the exit.
Then again, the box remaining empty meant he was likely somewhere else in the building, like Poppy Desmond’s dressing room. Her throat closed as she imagined him kissing another woman, whispering those naughty words in another ear. She dragged in a shaky breath and started to rise, determined to get some air.
“Don’t you dare,” Frank said softly, handing her a fresh glass of champagne. “Don’t run away now.”
Kathleen sat next to Nora. “You can do it. Perhaps he’s not even in the building.”
“More than likely he’s backstage with her.”
“If he is, then he doesn’t deserve you,” Anne said as she joined their group. “And you are better off.”
Little consolation, Nora thought, when her mind couldn’t stop conjuring images of the lush actress and her former fiancé in a passionate embrace. At least she would see him tonight, let him know that she’d discovered his secret.
The gaslights in the interior dimmed and Frank took the seat immediately to her right. The curtain parted and Julius, handsome and formidable in a black swallowtail coat and matching trousers, strolled out onto the stage. The crowd broke into polite applause as they took their seats.
Nora drank in the sight of him, his sandy blond hair swept off his clean-shaven face. Sharp blue eyes twinkled in the stage lights, his gaze sweeping the theater. She stopped breathing when he turned her way even though there was little chance he could see her with the bright lights shining in his face.
“Good evening,” his voice boomed. “Thank you all for coming to the reopening of the Athena Theater.” More applause. When it died down, he continued. “I hadn’t ever pictured myself a theater owner. But, as I told someone recently, people change. Circumstances change.”
Nora’s stomach clenched at the reminder of their conversation and she held perfectly still, willing herself not to care.
“So here I am,” he said with a self-deprecating laugh. “In the end, I found I couldn’t allow such a beautiful theater to close. So please, enjoy tonight’s production, the first of many I hope you attend at the new Athena.”
He left the stage, the crowd clapping, anticipation rising in the air. Not a seat remained available from what Nora could see, except for Julius’s box. She glanced over and wondered, would he have a companion tonight? She couldn’t fathom his attending alone, not since their engagement ended. He could now return to his devil-may-care ways without suffering any consequences.
Heavens, watching him with another woman would be torture. Why in God’s name had she decided to come?
The play started and Nora tried to ignore the empty box. She flinched when Poppy Desmond took the stage, the crowd applauding madly at the actress’s first appearance. But even she had to admit that Miss Desmond was a true talent. Her voice captivated the entire building, every eye riveted on her each time she opened her mouth.
Nora was so caught up in the song that she almost missed when Julius slipped into his box. He took the front-and-center seat, and she proceeded to study him through her lashes. He leaned back and crossed his legs, eyes fixed on Poppy down on the stage. No one else joined him.
Was he enjoying watching his former lover? Had the two rekindled their acquaintance? She searched his face for any sign, any hint, to what he was thinking but came up empty. Just as she was about to give up, his head slowly pivoted and they locked eyes. Her battered heart thumped madly as he continued to stare, no light of recognition or warmth in the blue depths. Had he known she was here?
He gave no outward sign of regret or sorrow as they gazed at each other and Nora began to feel foolish. She had put all her feelings on the table and Julius hadn’t been interested. What more needed to be said?
Swallowing hard, she forced her attention back to the stage. Her skin prickled, however, with the knowledge that he was still focused on her. Pride refused to let her turn to see, however. If he could not love her back, then she needed to forget about him.
Somehow.
After what seemed a century, the first act ended and the interior lights grew brighter. Kathleen and Anne began to chatter on about the performance while Nora snuck a glance at Julius’s box.
It was empty.
Chapter Nineteen
Throughout the first act, Julius had felt as if he might crawl out of his own skin. Nora was here, only a few hundred feet away, and he could not touch her or hear her laugh. Make her shiver or see her smile. It was pure hell.
He’d known the instant she entered the building. As if every cell in his body were attuned to hers, he’d watched from backstage as her party settled into the box. Fucking Tripp. Undoubtedly Julius’s friend was to blame for Nora’s presence tonight.
Not that he was complaining. She was stunning, with her brown hair swept up and artfully arranged with diamond clips. Poised and strong, she exuded an iron will, a refusal to back down from any challenge. He adored that about her.
He wished for a fraction of her composure. Since she broke off their engagement and he’d discovered Pendleton in his office, Julius felt as if he were cracking apart at the seams. He had no idea what to do about his tangled feelings for her—and now he also had to figure out how to handle the revelatio
n about her uncle.
Hard to believe that James Cortland had backed out on Julius’s father all those years ago. Not only that, he’d ransacked Julius’s office the night of the fire to search for the fake stock. Destroying Pendleton had been easy. The man’s bank accounts had been laughably thin, possibly why he’d been so determined to find the high-valued stock in Julius’s home. A few telephone calls and telegrams had wiped out all Pendleton’s assets. Last Julius heard, the man was bound for family in Virginia.
Cortland was a greater challenge. Julius couldn’t very well ruin Nora’s uncle, engagement or not. Hurting Cortland would crush Nora . . . and Julius hadn’t a clue on how to proceed. He shouldn’t care—after all, Nora was the one who had walked away from their arrangement—but he had no interest in causing her more pain. And yet, he could not allow Cortland to go unpunished. He needed justice.
Near the end of the first act, he slipped out of his box. The corridor behind the boxes was empty, thanks to Poppy’s extraordinary performance tonight. No one wanted to miss a second of her on stage, apparently. Lights still dim, he entered the rear of Cortland’s box and tapped the older man on the shoulder. “A word.”
James Cortland nodded and rose, following Julius into the corridor. There was an unused service staircase at the end of the hall, and Julius steered them there, holding the door open for Cortland to pass through. They took the stairs down to the ground floor and Julius pushed on the large steel door that led to the back alley.
Cool night air washed over them as he shut the door and leaned against it. The smell of rotting lettuce and horse permeated the alley, but Julius didn’t want this conversation overheard by a soul. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Give me one reason not to bury you, Cortland.”
Thankfully, Nora’s uncle did not play dumb. After a long moment, his shoulders slumped. “Pendleton told you.”
“Yes, he did. He also told me you were the one to break into my office the night of the fire.”
Cortland sighed. “I only did that to make it seem as if someone had broken in. I didn’t take anything, I swear.”
“That makes even less sense. Why would you wish for me to think there had been an intruder?”
“It wasn’t for your benefit. It was for Pendleton’s. He was . . . blackmailing me to find the stock certificates. He was determined to get his hands on them.”
“What could he possibly have to blackmail you with?”
“Nora.” He dragged a hand down his face. “With Nora engaged to you, Pendleton kept threatening to tell you the truth about my involvement. I had hoped you would never find out.”
Jesus, what a mess. “So you started the fire to get me out of the house that night.”
“No, I never started any fire. But it was an opportunity I couldn’t afford to waste.”
Complete coincidence? Julius doubted it. “Did Pendleton start the fire, then?”
“Not that he admitted to me. And I can’t imagine he’d dirty his hands in such a manner.”
Julius squinted disbelievingly. “We are talking about the same man who picked the lock on my office door the other night, are we not?”
“I suppose,” Cortland said, lifting a shoulder. “But he never wanted to hurt anyone. He only wanted the money.”
Julius rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. “Why didn’t you tell me? There were ample opportunities to come clean.”
“Shame.” He heaved a sigh. “I am not proud of what happened all those years ago. Your father, while possessing a poor head for business, had a good heart. He did not deserve to be ruined over something so trivial. I know it’s little consolation but I did reconsider about my share . . . only it was too late. He’d already taken his own life.” He thrust his hands in his pockets. “So now you know. What do you plan to do?”
Julius clenched his jaw, debating. Part of him longed to strip Cortland of everything he held dear, as Warren Hatcher once had been. But then he thought of Nora, how kind James and Beatrice had been to their British niece. She would never forgive Julius if he harmed the Cortlands. He would never be able to win her back.
Wait, did he want to win her back?
“Damn it,” he clipped out. “I hadn’t expected this.”
“I apologize. I know your life was forever changed by those events and I’m deeply sorry for my part in it. I never guessed that Warren would be destitute as a result, but ignorance is hardly absolution. I’m prepared to provide whatever recompense you demand.”
Nothing could change the events of the past. Julius knew that. And he believed Nora’s uncle in that he hadn’t anticipated the dire circumstances that would result from breaking the deal. Cortland’s attitude was worlds away from Pendleton’s, who had lied and twisted the facts to make himself appear blameless. Cortland was not trying to shirk the blame at all. Julius respected that.
“I do not need your recompense.” He blew out a long breath. “I had held on to this idea of vengeance for so long, but it’s time to let go. There are other greater concerns to be dealt with and I need to set this aside.”
“Are you certain? It hardly seems fair that Pendleton paid a price while I did not.”
“Pendleton broke into my office and insulted me to my face. He exhibited no remorse and threatened me. Considering he was also blackmailing you, I’d say Pendleton got exactly what was coming to him.”
“Fair enough,” Cortland said. “What now? What will you tell Nora?”
A burning ache settled behind Julius’s breastbone. “We are not exactly speaking, in case you haven’t noticed. The engagement’s over.”
“Is that why the two of you were staring at each other the entire first act?”
Julius felt his cheeks warm. Hell, was he blushing? “I miss her.”
“She bought a train ticket, you know. Tried to hide it, but Beatrice is far craftier than anyone gives her credit for. Nora plans to leave for San Francisco next week.”
San Francisco? Christ, Nora couldn’t go that far away. Why would she not return to England? To her father and friends? “You cannot let her leave.”
Cortland shook his head. “Have you met Nora? I suspect she’ll find a way to leave whether Beatrice and I allow it or not. I’d much rather you not let her leave, because I suspect you are the only person she’ll listen to.”
“Why me?”
“Because she’s in love with you, Hatcher.” He put a hand on Julius’s shoulder. “And if you want her, you’d best figure out how to win her back. Quickly.”
“I don’t believe she’ll have me, no matter what I do. I—” A faint distinctive smell floated through his nostrils. “Is that . . . ? Jesus Christ—that’s fire!”
He spun and pulled on the handle of the door leading back inside the theater . . . except it was locked. “Damn!” He pounded on the metal once. “I told them to leave this unlocked. We have to get everyone out!”
Breaking out in a run, he sprinted toward the street and the theater entrance. Before he even reached the mouth of the alley the screams started. No, no, no. They could not panic. He had to help everyone get out in an orderly fashion, use the exit doors and fire escapes. A stampede could kill hundreds, if not thousands, of people.
And Nora. Dear God, Nora was in there.
The idea of losing her nearly sent him to his knees. No more scandalous outings. No more teasing smiles or looks full of longing. No more standing up to him with her sharp intelligence and even sharper tongue. Her death would kill him, drown him in grief until he could not function. She was his best friend, his confidant, his lover, and the keeper of his undeserving heart.
She was everything.
And he had to tell her at least once.
When he rounded the corner, people were already streaming out of the main exit doors. Patrons were shoving and yelling, while smoke billowed into the night above them. What disturbed him most was that everyone was dry, which meant the brand-new sprinkler system hadn’t yet kicked on to douse the flames. Sweat broke out o
n his forehead. If the fire continued unchecked, the casualties would be high.
“Someone sound the alarm! Rouse the fire brigade!” he shouted as he pushed his way toward the doors. With everyone trying to get out, he could hardly find purchase in the crowd to fight his way in. With every two steps forward, he was shoved one farther away.
“Stay calm and move away from the building as quickly as possible,” he told them, using all his strength to withstand getting swept away by the mob of people. “Do not push, and help anyone having trouble.”
Chaos swirled all around and the old fears threatened to choke him. But finding Nora urged him on.
He could not let her die.
Nora was drowning her sorrows during intermission with a few glasses of champagne when the first hint of alarm reached her ears.
“Did you hear that?” Kathleen asked.
“Is someone . . . screaming?” Anne cocked her head. “I thought—”
Another scream, this time closer. Then they heard the word every theatergoer dreaded: Fire.
The men had all departed for the smoking lounge, leaving just the ladies behind. Aunt Bea appeared at their elbows. “I do not know what is happening but I believe we should leave just to be on the safe side.” She gestured to the orchestra floor, where patrons were pushing toward the rear of the theater. Actors and theater workers were running across the stage—just before the fire curtain came down, blocking them from view.
“Oh, God. Look!” Kathleen pointed to the ceiling. Gray smoke was gathering, rolling, to cover the beautiful painted mural above them. There were sprinkler heads installed but no water shooting out of them.
“Dear heavens. We need to get out of this building before it goes up in flames.” Aunt Bea hurried them to the back corridor, where a large number of patrons were running to the main staircase.
