Dare to be Brazen (Daring Daughters Book 2)

by Emma V. Leech

  Nic snorted.

  “I didn’t mean—” he began, but Ducrow waved the comment away with a laugh. “I do miss the physical activity, the challenge of it. At least Rouge et Noir kept me busy at all hours. Being a gentleman is not exactly stimulating.”

  “You don’t say,” the fellow said dryly. “So, you’ve come to visit some old friends.”

  Nic watched as Ducrow touched up the greasepaint on his face with expert hands. He remembered the cold feel of the stuff on his skin too, the smell of it.

  “Yes. It’s not France, but… it feels the same. A trip down memory lane, I suppose.”

  “Well, there’s a few here from Paris you’ll know, and if you’re that bored, I can always find a place for you on the bill. We don’t have a rope dancer here, and no one could ever do it as good as you, nor walk the wire. Acrobatics neither, truth be told. You were the best all-rounder I ever saw, and you and Louis together, well, that’s a spectacle I’d pay well for. We’d have them queuing up for miles.”

  “You’re out of luck there, old friend.”

  Ducrow sighed and gave a mournful shake of his head. “The crowd couldn’t get enough of you two, back in the day. Pity it was such a short run. You left just as you were making names for yourselves.”

  “And with good reason,” Nic said.

  “Perhaps, but you’d have made history, I reckon. Mind, Louis never had your skill, but what a showman!”

  “He started too late. I was born to it. Makes a difference, that.”

  Ducrow nodded and looked around as a boy stuck his head in to call time on his next performance. “Ah, well, I must be off to make an honest living, Nic, my boy. Perhaps I’ll see you later, though? You’ll stay and see the show?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Nic said, standing and holding out his hand, which Ducrow shook warmly.

  “Perhaps you’ll stay on after, too. I’ll even let you play on the ropes if you ask me nicely. You can see if you’ve still got it.”

  Nic grinned. “Trying to tempt me back to work?”

  “Maybe. Is it working?”

  With a laugh, Nic picked up his hat and winked. “No.”

  Eliza jumped as Elspeth grabbed hold of her arm, holding on tight. Not that she blamed the girl. The performance was astonishing, the kind of thing that made you sweat with a combination of fear and exhilaration. She’d always shied away from such entertainments before, uncomfortable in the face of such wild excesses of emotion. It was a rather vulgar place, after all, with everything brightly painted and gilded. There were looking glasses everywhere too, reflecting the gaudy excess back at you from every angle, but it was marvellous. She wished she had not kept away for so long. Lottie had been forever begging trips to Astley’s, but Eliza had always stayed home. What a fool she’d been, too afraid of being seen enjoying herself in such a place to risk going at all. How much had she missed out on by such idiotic behaviour? Well, no more.

  “Oh, Eliza, isn’t she marvellous?” Greer cried, pointing at the young woman who was riding bareback, standing on the horse now, and dressed in a costume so scandalous Eliza could hardly believe her eyes.

  Her younger brother, Jules, seated on her other side gave her a sideways glance, clearly waiting for her reaction.

  “Yes!” Eliza cried, too delighted to care what anyone thought. “Oh, I wish I could do that.”

  Jules, Greer, and Elspeth stared at her in astonishment for a moment, and then the three of them burst out laughing.

  They had the most marvellous time. There were wild animals, tigers and lions, which were unsettling and beautiful, though Eliza felt a pang of sympathy for them being taken away from their homes. She wondered if they missed it. In between the big performances, there were jugglers and clowns and tumbling acrobats. The tightrope walker was so terrifying she watched it through her fingers, and the elephant was the most magnificent and extraordinary thing she’d ever seen in all her life.

  Astley’s grand finale was a re-enactment of the Battle of Waterloo. The noise was stunning. Explosions of sound and limelight and flame captured the chaos of a battleground and cannon fire. Each of the three act performances ended with a skirmish on horseback with perhaps thirty riders in the arena. The horses were so marvellously trained that they would fall down and play dead, giving the macabre impression of a battlefield a more convincing aura than Eliza would have credited. They saw the Duke of Wellington inspecting his troops and a character named Corporal Standfast sang a duet with his true love, Mary, before the final battle. In a comic interlude, the corporal was rescued by his beloved Mary and, after many trials and tribulations, the hero and heroine were reunited, just as they ought to be.

  The three women, Jules, and Eliza’s maid, Martha, clapped and cheered until they were hoarse, and their hands hurt.

  “Oh, that was marvellous,” Eliza said, still fizzing with excitement. “I’m so glad we came.”

  Jules gave her another odd look. “That bump on the head has had the most peculiar effect on you, sis.”

  Eliza stuck her tongue out at him, which rather proved his point. She didn’t care. She was giddy with a strange brew of happiness and excitement. The only thing that could have made the thing any better was if Nic had been here to share it with her. If only she could speak to him about it, for the things she had seen him do…. Surely, he had learned such things in a place like this? However else could he have acquired such extraordinary skills? The desire to ask him was beyond tantalising.

  “Come along then, ladies,” Jules said, gathering everyone up. “I think the worst of the crush has gone, so we’d best make our way down.”

  “Oh, Jules, might we see the elephant?” Greer pleaded with him. “I heard Papa tell a friend of his that if you asked for a man named Big Sal and paid him, that he would let you see the elephant up close. Please, may we?”

  Eliza watched the play of emotion on her brother’s face with amusement. Though he could be a dreadful trial at times, Jules was a good brother, and very sensible of the fact that he was escorting his sister and two young ladies. Yet he was also not yet twenty, and the desire to see the elephant was writ large in his eyes.

  “Oh, please, Jules,” Elspeth wheedled, sensing weakness, and for once in complete accord with her sister.

  Jules frowned and looked to Eliza, the voice of reason… except the voice of reason seemed to be very quiet of late. In all honesty, Eliza couldn’t say she missed it.

  “Oh, why not?” she said.

  Chapter 5

  Dear Prue,

  I hope all is well with you and yours. I had a letter from Leo this morning to say he would be home at the end of the week. We have all missed him so. I do hope you will come and visit. It’s been an age since I saw you.

  I want to speak with you too. I know you told me all about those two French brothers – that are still the talk of the ton – when you stayed at Holbrook last summer. I just wanted to ask if the Comte de Villen is still showing an interest in Eliza? I only ask because we were shopping with friends last week and happened to meet him by chance. Our friends rather rashly introduced Bella to him, for which I have yet to forgive them. Well, it is hardly surprising as she is at an impressionable age and he is an exceptionally beautiful man, but naturally Bella fell head over ears in love with him. Well, it’s all nonsense of course, just a girlish fancy, only I wonder if I should take steps to keep them apart, or if he can be trusted to act as he ought if he meets her again. I had already invited both the comte and his brother to my musical soirée you see, and now I’m sat upon thorns. For I cannot be certain with Bella whether she will blush and stammer or simply invite the devil to marry her.

  What do you think?

  ―Excerpt of a letter from Mrs Alice Hunt to Her Grace, Prunella Adolphus, The Duchess of Bedwin.

  23rd March 1839, Astley’s Amphitheatre.

  The elephant was an astonishing creature, even more so up close. The obliging Big Sal was only too delighted—for a substantial fee�
��to take them for a visit. That such a huge and intimidating beast should so carefully take a monkey nut from the palm of her hand, was the most enchanting thing Eliza had ever seen.

  “Oh, Eliza, how funny.”

  Eliza turned as the thick trunk snaked back to the elephant’s mouth to deposit its prize.

  “Viv, Ash, how lovely!” she exclaimed, moving forward to greet the twins.

  They looked stunning, as usual, with Vivien dressed in a vivid emerald green and Ash with a dark blue coat and a lavish waistcoat of yellow and emerald embroidery that was a perfect foil for his sister’s outfit.

  “Did you see the show?”

  Ash rolled his eyes.

  “The third time this week. I admit it is marvellous, but Vivien is enraptured. I’m certain it’s the appeal of so much naked male flesh on display that draws her here, mind,” he added, lowering his voice.

  His twin hit him with her umbrella. “Oaf.”

  “Doesn’t make it any less true,” Ash muttered, rubbing his elbow before his attention was taken from another direction.

  “Oh, Ash!”

  Her brother smirked as Greer and Elspeth noticed him and took an arm each, tugging him towards the elephant and talking over each other with excitement.

  “I’m so glad I saw you,” Vivien said, once Ash had been dragged away, delight glittering in her eyes. “It’s the most marvellous stroke of luck.”

  “Is it?” Eliza said, intrigued. “Why is that?”

  “You’ll never guess who I just saw.”

  The look in Viv’s eyes made Eliza’s heart pick up speed.

  “Oh?” she managed, barely able to speak. “I couldn’t guess, I’m sure.”

  “Oh, don’t try looking all nonchalant. I saw your expression when he vaulted over that balustrade the other night. You were desolate, and so should I be if I had a man like that in my sights.” Viv gave a dramatic sigh and placed an elegant hand over her heart. “He is glorious. So… big and mmm.”

  “He’s hardly in my sights,” Eliza protested. “He runs away whenever he gets the chance. As you say, even leaping over stone balustrades in his eagerness to flee.”

  “Oh, pish. He’s just frightened. Getting involved with a lady means marrying her. A wild one like Mr Demarteau is just bridle shy, that’s all. You must pursue him if you really want him.”

  “Viv!” Eliza said, a little scandalised. “You do say the most outrageous things.”

  Viv shrugged.

  “I suppose I do,” she said with a mournful air. “At least as everyone scolds me for doing so I must accept the truth of it. It’s Nani Maa’s fault of course, for you know how scandalous my grandmother is, and everyone says I take after her. Nonetheless, he is here, and you do want him, and if I were you, I’d slip off and go down there where the entrance to the circle is. He’s there, you see.” Viv pointed and raised an elegant eyebrow at her.

  Eliza swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry.

  “Jules will notice,” she said, her voice shaking.

  “Jules only has eyes for the big dumb beast,” Viv said, gesturing to where Jules and Ash were animatedly discussing the enormous creature before them. “The elephant is holding his attention too,” she added with a smirk.

  Eliza gave a slightly hysterical chirrup of laughter and smacked her hand over her mouth.

  “Oh, run along. I’ll send them off in the other direction when they notice you’ve gone.” Viv winked at her.

  “Thank you,” Eliza managed.

  Viv grinned. “Good luck and be careful. I’ll not be far away so just call for me if you want me to come and hit him with my umbrella, or act as chaperone, if you must be dull about it.”

  Eliza squeezed her hand in thanks, unable to say anything further. With a last glance over her shoulder to check she was not observed, she hurried away.

  Whilst backstage was a frantic hum of activity, with the players arranging costume changes and stagehands seeing to animals and sets, and hauling things back and forth, the circle was quiet and still. At least, it appeared so at first glance. The previously brightly lit space was shadowed and mysterious now, and Eliza felt a tremor of alarm as she could not see Nic anywhere. Perhaps Viv had been mistaken, in which case Eliza really ought not be here. Well, she ought not be here if Nic was here, either, but that was beside the point. Disappointed, she was about to turn away when a sound above her made her look up, and her breath caught.

  There was a man up there, way, way above her. Eliza stared and stared, telling herself that it could not be true. She was seeing things.

  A single rope was suspended from somewhere up in the darkness that she could not see, and a man was climbing it. No, not just a man, but Nic. He moved with such strength and ease, the muscles on his naked torso rippling. He wore only a pair of loose trousers and Eliza, breathing hard, stumbled back until the low wall before the first row of seats was at her back. She was more than relieved for the support. He must have been thirty foot off the ground by now. Hardly able to believe her own eyes, Eliza watched Nic as he took his full weight upon his arms, his body hanging down in perfect alignment with the rope. He stayed there for a moment and then raised his legs until they were directly above him.

  A man’s voice echoed about the arena, making Eliza jump and edge along the seating area farther into the shadows.

  “Well, I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist.”

  “Bien sur,” Nic called down to the fellow. “Shall we see if I can still do it?”

  “Don’t you break your bloody neck in my place,” the fellow yelled up at him, only half joking from his tone. “How many years is it since you climbed a rope?”

  Nic spun around and stared down at the man, arms dangling, the rope wound only about one muscular thigh as he swayed gently back and forth. It looked ridiculously unsafe.

  “Not so long as you might imagine.”

  A snort of laughter followed this. “Very well, I’ll rephrase if you’re going to be pedantic. How long since you performed?”

  Nic turned himself upside down again and slid sinuously down the rope about ten feet, the rope moving around his body as he went, rather like a snake.

  Eliza’s mouth went dry.

  “Perhaps fourteen years.”

  “Don’t be a bloody fool, then.”

  Nic just chuckled, climbing back up the rope as though he’d never set foot on the ground in his life. It was astonishing. “Well, I did always like to live dangerously.”

  Before Eliza could wonder what he meant by that, he moved so he was suspended in mid-air, his body horizontal and the rope coiled about his middle. He turned over and over, pulling himself upward and winding the rope about him as he went.

  “Nic, for the love of God….” his friend exclaimed, but suddenly Nic was falling.

  He tumbled, spinning around and around and descending at tremendous speed, the rope unwinding about him as he dropped so fast she felt certain she would see him die. The scream escaped her before she could stop it. Nic swung to a halt, swaying effortlessly, perhaps five feet from the ground, close to the man to whom he’d been speaking. They both looked over at her.

  “Well, it seems I’m not the only one you just gave a heart attack,” the fellow said, clutching at his chest.

  Nic stared at her, his expression one of undisguised horror. “Eliza!”

  Nic felt sick. He could not tell from her face what she thought of him now, for she was too far in the shadows. How or why she was here, he couldn’t begin to understand. Not that it mattered. Perhaps it was for the best, anyway. Now she knew, and he couldn’t pretend any longer. She knew just how far beneath her he truly was. Not only a bastard, but little better than a court jester, the fool that everyone watched as he made a spectacle of himself. To his utter mortification, he felt himself grow hot.

  Ducrow glanced up at him, a question in his eyes Nic wouldn’t have answered on pain of death, not that much needed saying. The atmosphere was thick enough to make things exceedingly uncomfortab
le. The man cleared his throat.

  “Well, I’ll er… I’ll um… I’ll leave you to it.”

  Nic almost asked him to stay, and was more than tempted to run after him, but he knew he couldn’t. Though he had told Eliza repeatedly there could be nothing between them, that hadn’t stopped him from dreaming of it himself. Well, that would end now, and he’d be better off in the long run. He really would. The idea of having Eliza look at him with disdain was enough to make his throat tight, but he was a grown man and he’d lived long enough to have had his pride dented before now. He’d survived that. He’d survive this.

  Nic leapt to the floor and just stood there, waiting for her to walk away from him. He said nothing. What was the point? His heart was pounding, but it was nothing to do with the exertion of the performance he’d just given. Why should he feel so bloody mortified? What he’d just done was a trick that had drawn vast crowds to see him at the Cirque Olympique de Franconi in Paris. Yet, he still couldn’t help wishing he’d done as Ducrow had feared and broken his bloody neck. At least he could have avoided this scene.

  She was still frozen in the shadows, like some skittish wild thing that would bolt at any moment. Nic swallowed. He ought to say something. Perhaps if he made some scathing comment, it would be easier for her to walk away from him. His mind blanked, and he scrabbled about, trying to find something to say, anything…. He opened his mouth, but it was too late, she was moving, running in fact, but… but not away from him.

  Though he had seen her coming towards him with his own two eyes, Nic still had the breath knocked out of him when she threw herself at him, wrapping her arms about him with surprising strength for such a frail little thing.

  “Oh, Nic, Nic, you frightened me half to death, you wretched man. I was never so afraid.”

  Nic was too stunned to move, let alone form a response. His breath hitched in his throat at the feel of her soft cheek against his bare chest, her hands upon him.

  “Eliza,” he managed, staring down at her. “What…? How…?”