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Once Upon A Regency: Timeless Tales And Fables

Page 14

by Samantha Grace


  “Yes, yes!” She laughed as his whiskers tickled her skin. “I remember.”

  He stopped teasing and placed a kiss on her lips. She smiled up at him, twining her arms around his neck. “But you can remind me as often as you want. I like the sound of it.”

  RESISTING ROMEO

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Benny caught a glimpse of himself in the looking glass and grinned. Miss Claudine had told him not to shave for a couple of days, so a rusty shadow covered his jaw, and Miss Rachel had smudged kohl around his eyes. With the sword strapped to his side and the colorful tunic, he looked just like a pirate. That’s what Miss Rachel said.

  She sure was pretty. And nice. He didn’t have a dressing room, because he wasn’t a real actor, so Miss Rachel had let him use hers.

  There was a knock at the door, and he turned away from his image. It was time to go wait in the wings for his cue. A violent fluttering began in his belly. Miss Claudine and Mr. Hawke had been doing a fine job this evening. He hoped he didn’t mess up his part.

  He crossed to the door, said a little prayer, and opened it. His breath caught. A man with a cane lifted overhead greeted him. Pain exploded in his head. There was a second blow, and then everything went black.

  * * * *

  Claudine saw movement in the wings. Benny was finally in place. A churning had begun in her stomach a few minutes ago as they drew closer to his cue, and she hadn’t spotted him.

  Just like they had practiced, Russell grabbed her by the shoulders. His face was close to hers and memories of their night together filled her with joy. She loved this man with her entire being, and miraculously, he loved her in return.

  “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.”

  Benny missed his cue. Russell’s eyes widened. She could see panic beginning to take hold in him.

  “Now,” Oliver said in a furious whisper from somewhere behind her.

  Benny shrank further into the shadows. Where was the crew? He probably just needed a prod to conquer his shyness. Gads. A tick of the clock felt like hours when one was stuck on stage. She had to go get him.

  Claudine improvised a reason for her character to go off stage, then whispered to Russell, “Stay here and appear sad.”

  She hurried off stage without looking back to see if he followed her directions. When she cleared the curtain, she frowned at Benny. “Where did you get the hood?” she whispered. “Come on. It’s time. I’ll go back on stage, and you rush us like we practiced.”

  He shook his head, refusing to come from his hiding place.

  “Benny.” As she drew closer, she realized it wasn’t him standing with his back pressed against the wall. A black hood hid the man’s identity, but he was nowhere near Benny’s height, nor was he as brawny. “Lars, is that you? What happened to Benny?”

  A guttural growl came from the dark, and he leapt at her. She cried out in surprise and acted to defend herself just like Regina had taught her. She swept his arm to the side, so his back was mostly to her, grasped above his elbow, and shoved hard against his shoulder. He tripped over something on the floor and careened into the curtain. He slammed against the stage with half his body visible to the audience. There were a few screams, but soon relieved laughter and applause spread throughout the auditorium.

  Russell stalked toward the imposter as the man scrambled to his feet and ducked back into the wings. She turned to run and smacked into Oliver’s broad chest. He caught her before she fell.

  “Who the hell is that?” he hissed.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Is this real?”

  “I think so.” She pushed free of his hold and searched for Russell in the wings. The man had found the walking stick Benny had used for rehearsal and swung it toward Russell’s midsection. He jumped back and was on stage again. The audience cheered.

  “The curtain. Go close it,” she said to Oliver. “Russell needs help.”

  The man tried to bash Russell’s head. He ducked and the cane sliced over his head with a powerful swish. Oliver cursed and dashed behind the backdrop to reach the line on the other side of the stage, barking at the stagehands to apprehend the intruder.

  Russell threw his arm in the air to block the next strike. The crack of cane against bone made her queasy. Russell grimaced as he snatched the cane and struggled with the man to gain control of it.

  Claudine couldn’t wait for the stagehands to act. Everyone knew no one abandoned their posts during a performance unless they wanted to lose their positions. Rachel and Jane rushed into the wings as Claudine searched for something to use as a weapon.

  “Where is Benny?” Rachel’s large eyes conveyed her fear.

  “I don’t know.” Claudine weaved through crates to reach the props. “Go find him. He could be hurt.”

  Rachel and Jane shot off in the direction of the dressing rooms. Claudine dug through the props and found a parasol. It was the only item to resemble a weapon. Brandishing it, she ran on stage and bashed the man across the backs of his knees. He crumpled to the floor. Russell wrestled the cane from him. The crowd was on their feet and shouting encouragement. Oliver froze with his hands on the line to draw the curtain.

  The man was on his hands and knees. He turned his head toward her then looked up at Russell. She and Russell had their weapons raised and were prepared to strike if he tried to move. Perhaps realizing he was beaten, he slowly sank back on his haunches and raised his hands in surrender.

  The crowd erupted; their applause and whistles rang in her ears. She’d never heard such excitement at the Drayton. It took her back to her days on Drury Lane. Russell met her gaze, and a smile inched across his handsome face. His dimple pierced his cheek. And then she was smiling, too.

  Oliver closed the curtain, and a couple of stagehands ran on stage to apprehend the intruder. “Tie him up,” Oliver said, “and get the bed out here. Places, everyone. We have a show to finish.”

  Jerome, one of the stagehands, hauled the man to his feet with his arms trapped behind his back while the rest of the crew changed the setting. Anastasia crawled into the bed to portray Lucinda’s father.

  “Wait.” Russell grabbed the hood and drew it from the man’s head. His strong eyebrows lifted. “You’re the guard from the cast entrance.”

  Claudine moved to Russell’s side to take a gander and gasped. “Mr. Tabron!”

  Her former butler bared his teeth and cursed her. When he tried to break free, Jerome twisted his arm higher behind his back. He whimpered with pain.

  “Take him backstage and subdue him with any means necessary,” Oliver said with a sneer. “I’ll personally see him thrown in gaol after the curtain call.”

  Russell grasped Oliver’s arm before he could slip away. “How do you know this man?”

  “He is my former butler,” Claudine said in between handing her hat to Natalia, who had rushed on stage as soon as Oliver called for everyone, and stripping off the spencer she was wearing.

  Oliver growled. “The blackguard spied on her for the duke and nearly got her killed. I’d never met him, so I didn’t recognize him when he answered the advertisement for a guard.”

  The noise from outside the curtain grew in volume. “The crowd is growing restless,” she said. “We can discuss this later.”

  Oliver nodded sharply. Russell released his arm and guided her toward the bed where Anastasia was waiting.

  “I love you,” he whispered to Claudine and kissed her forehead before standing on his mark behind her. The curtain opened and a hush descended over the crowd.

  Anastasia gave the best performance Claudine had seen from her, holding the audience enthralled. When the young actress pretended to draw her last breath, Claudine was certain some of the audience was brought to tears. The play ended with the inspector comforting her, and the audience was left to believe the two wouldn’t be parting even though Lucinda’s father had been found.
r />   Claudine held tightly to Russell’s hand as the curtain closed, and they hurried off stage. “I have to see to Benny,” she said.

  Russell didn’t release her hand and accompanied her to Rachel’s dressing room. Benny was sprawled on Rachel’s bed, his legs hanging over the end. Rachel was perched on the side of the mattress and held a cloth to his head. Claudine’s heart lodged in her throat. She dropped Russell’s hand and rushed to Benny’s side.

  “Good heavens! You have been hurt.”

  “It’s not so bad, Miss Claudine.” He grinned weakly at Rachel.

  That he was awake and talking offered her some relief, but the knowledge she was responsible for his injury burned in her stomach. “I’m so sorry, Benny. This never would have happened if I had taken Tabron seriously. I knew he was a vengeful man, but I never expected him to be violent.” She thanked Rachel for tending to Benny and reached for the cloth on his forehead to refresh it in the washbasin.

  Benny caught her wrist, gently circling it with his large hand. “Miss Claudine,” he whispered, “would it be all right if Miss Rachel took care of me?”

  Claudine’s breath caught slightly. She glanced at Rachel, and the brunette smiled. “If you don’t mind, I would like to see after him.”

  “Of course I don’t mind.” Claudine withdrew her hand from Benny’s grasp and stepped back to allow the two more privacy.

  Natalia burst through the threshold. “Claudine, you and Russell are needed on stage. Now. The audience won’t stop yelling for Lucinda and James.”

  Russell’s lips parted in alarm.

  “Nothing is wrong,” Claudine reassured him. “I’ve been told it has become fashionable to demand another appearance from the players when the audience is pleased with a performance.”

  “We did it.” His blinding smile urged her to grab and kiss him, but she refrained from embarrassing her friends with such an inappropriate display.

  “We did it,” she agreed and held her hand out to him, “and we were brilliant.”

  “This is just the beginning, Claudine. We have many moments of brilliance ahead of us.” He laced his fingers with hers to draw her toward the door. “Shall we go give the audience what they demand?”

  “Yes, let’s.”

  RESISTING ROMEO

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The applause rippled over Russell, and he held tightly to Claudine's hand. He smiled and waved as the audience called out his character’s name. This moment had been part of his dreams for a long time now, but all he could think about was the man being held backstage.

  The blackguard had to be responsible for setting the fire, and Russell suspected he had tampered with the trapdoor also. Jonas wasn’t the only one determined to see him behind iron bars.

  He’d had enough adulation. Important matters demanded his attention. He guided Claudine toward the wings as the curtain closed again. Releasing her hand, he headed backstage only to discover the man was gone.

  Russell grabbed the front of Jerome’s shirt when he tried to pass. “Where is the blackguard? You were supposed to watch him.”

  “Salem went for the magistrate right away. The bastard was taken to gaol a few minutes ago.”

  “I see. My apologies.” Russell released the poor man. “And thank you.”

  Jerome shrugged and brushed his hand over his shirt to smooth away the wrinkles. “No thanks are required, sir. We are family. If someone tries to harm one of us, he tries to harm us all, and he’d best be prepared for a fight.”

  The stagehand continued on his way.

  Russell frowned. “I didn’t see anyone coming to our aid when we were on stage.”

  “The show stops for no one,” Claudine said. “Besides, we didn’t need their help.”

  His foul mood lifted a little. “I don’t suppose we did. We are a splendid team, Miss Bellerose.”

  “The best,” a voice behind him said.

  The dark cloud lifted more. “I see they allow any scoundrel backstage,” Russell answered and turned to greet Marcus with a smile. He drew up short when he realized his friend wasn’t alone. “Mother, you came.”

  She stood behind Marcus as if she was unsure if she wanted to be seen. Her cousin Fiona had come with her. When his mother didn’t respond, Fiona came forward to take Claudine’s hands and place kisses on her cheeks. “You were brilliant, Lady Claudine.”

  He heard the hitch in Claudine’s breath.

  Fiona smiled at him. “I suppose you haven’t heard that Mr. Fletcher and Miss Bellerose are related. Her father, Comte de Tullareen, and Mr. Fletcher’s father were cousins.”

  Russell looked to Claudine for confirmation. She lowered her gaze and nodded slightly. Now he understood his mother’s motivation for coming to the theatre. Suddenly, Claudine met with her approval, but she had been good enough for him all along.

  Fiona waved for his mother to come forward. When she did, it was a shuffling step as if she was afraid of facing him. She lifted her head and tears pooled in her eyes.

  “Russell, I am so ashamed of how I have behaved. Coming here, knowing you were falling in love with an actress... It brought back painful memories, and I acted like a fool. I don’t expect you to forgive me for pushing you away or speaking against the woman you love, but—”

  “Oh, Mrs. Hawke.” Claudine came forward to gather her in a hug. His mother stiffened, never having been an affectionate person. “Of course your son will forgive you. He loves you and wants nothing more than your approval.”

  His mother’s chin trembled, but she held tightly to her control. “Thank you, milady,” his mother said.

  Claudine released her and stepped back, perhaps realizing that would be the most she would get from his mother. He offered his forgiveness, more for Claudine’s sake than anyone’s, and kissed his mother’s cheek. “If you will excuse me, I am still needed at the theatre. I will call on you tomorrow.”

  Fiona congratulated Claudine and him on a riveting performance before linking arms with his mother to walk with her.

  Marcus smiled at Claudine. “I’m sorry. I tried to smooth the path for you. Perhaps in time she will become friendlier.”

  Russell put his arm around Claudine’s shoulders. “For my mother’s sake, I hope she comes to accept Claudine, because I have no doubts that I have met my other half.”

  “After the performance I just witnessed, I couldn’t agree more.” Marcus rubbed at the wrinkles suddenly marring his brow. “The fight at the end was spectacular. I’ve never seen anything like it on stage. It almost looked real.”

  “Merci.” Claudine snuggled closer to Russell’s side. “We are happy you enjoyed the play.”

  “Everyone enjoyed it. You won’t have an empty seat for weeks.”

  Russell hoped his friend’s prediction came true. A successful running show was just what the Drayton needed to give Oliver a good start.

  After Marcus said his good-byes and promised to see Russell’s kin home safely, two ladies approached arm-in-arm to offer their congratulations. One was older with gray hair, and the other was a very pretty blond.

  “Aunt Beatrice and Sophia!” Claudine rushed forward to embrace the ladies in turn. They chattered together for a moment before Claudine introduced him as her betrothed.

  The older lady shook a gnarled finger in his direction. “You be sure to take care of our darling Claudine, or you will answer to me, young man.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Claudine wrapped her arms around his waist. “We will take care of each other, Aunt Beatrice.”

  The woman declared it a splendid plan then bade them good-bye.

  Claudine held on to him and looked up. He leaned down to place a peck on her lips. “I haven’t had time to ask if you were hurt tonight.”

  She shook her head. “But he hit your arm hard. Are you hurt?”

  “No, I am exhilarated.”

  “Because of the play or your mother’s attendance at it?”

  “Both. And neither,” he said, adjus
ting their position so they were facing each other. “I’m exhilarated, because I didn’t disappoint you tonight.”

  She smiled, recalling the worries she’d had in the beginning, and he hadn’t disappointed her in any way. “You were magnificent, Romeo. The very best actor in all of London.”

  “You are just trying to flatter me to get me between the sheets.”

  “Maybe.”

  His dimple winked at her. “I’m surprisingly all right with that,” he said and kissed her like a leading man should kiss the woman he loved.

  RESISTING ROMEO

  EPILOGUE

  The Drayton’s cast and crew had gathered at Claudine’s town house to celebrate a five-week run of their play. Russell stood back to observe the merriment in the drawing room for a moment and revel in their success. The theatre was in no danger of having the doors closed for a long time to come.

  Oliver approached with two glasses of brandy and handed one to him. “I hate to see you go home for the winter,” he said. “I could use your help.”

  Russell smiled. “If you follow the business plan to the letter, everything will be all right. We will be back after Christmas.”

  He had tried to sign the theatre over to his brother, but Oliver had convinced him to make him a partner instead. Russell would manage the practical side of running the theatre, and Oliver would continue to be in charge of creative direction.

  Oliver nodded toward Claudine and Tilde seated together on the sofa. “Maybe it’s for the best that you are whisking your betrothed to the country. Tilde is going to give her ideas with all of that baby talk.”

  “Please thank Miss Allred for the baby bonnet and blanket,” Russell overheard Tilde saying as she circled her hand around her slightly rounded belly. “It is hard to believe our boy will be so tiny.”

  Russell shrugged, his grin growing wider. He wouldn’t mind if Claudine wanted to make him a father sooner rather than later. He fully intended to enjoy every moment of their lives together. “There are worst fates than marrying the woman I love and becoming a father. Besides, if Lars can rise to the occasion, so can I.”

 

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