“It’s a paid post, not a game of whist,” Julian said. “If I have the blunt to lose, why not take it from me?”
“Because you’re my friend.”
“Exactly why I want to give it to you. What is money for, if not to be used?”
“With that attitude, I have no idea how you still possess any,” Fairfax said. “Wait until you have a wife.”
Julian cocked a brow. “She’ll spend all of my money?”
“She’ll lock you in the attic so thatyoustop spending it,” Fairfax replied.
“Then I shall never marry,” Julian answered. “I should allow no man or woman to have control over me or my actions.”
“Mm-hm.” Fairfax smirked. “Remember this conversation after you fall in love.”
Julian let out a sigh. “I am incapable of love. Sometimes I wish that were not true.”
“Be careful what you say at a masquerade,” Fairfax warned. “On nights such as these, even the most unlikely wishes might come true.”
Julian cuffed his friend’s shoulder and let himself back into the ballroom.
Such words painted a pretty picture, but it was all poppycock. Even if Julian’s heart weren’t made of stone, he was a duke, and peers did not marry for love. His future wife would be a perfectly proper highborn lady with land and a dowry and a healthy self-interest in becoming a duchess.
It wasn’t love, but it would have to be enough.
Chapter 2
Dust motes danced in the bright sunlight streaming through the narrow windows as Unity Thorne stepped back to admire her work.
“Good God, Mabel,” Rhoda breathed in awe. “You look hideous.”
“Don’t respond,” Unity warned Mabel. “Your prosthetic chin needs time to set.”
The King’s Theatre wouldn’t open to the public for another hour, but there was much to do before the afternoon performance ofMacbeth. All of the actresses each had her own beautification toilette, but Unity was in charge of turning them into someone else entirely.
Unity moved Mabel a few feet to the right to make room for her next charge. The grand salon for the audience brimmed with luxury and excess, but the cramped little room where Unity performed her magic with cosmetics was barely large enough to house four stools and a mirror. She needed natural light to do her job well.
She also needed fresh air in order to do her jobcomfortably, but the windows were nailed shut... either to bar thieves from entering, or to deter the theatre’s property from walking out.
Not that a few nails stopped the actresses from borrowing an unneeded gown or a fine pair of gloves from time to time.
“Gladys, you’re next.” Unity arranged the second stool where the light was best and motioned for the actress to take her seat.
Gladys cast a dubious look at Mabel. “I don’t know about these prosthetics. Mabeldoeslook hideous.”
“You’re the three witches of Macbeth,” Unity reminded her.
“But we weren’t this hideous yesterday,” Gladys insisted. “You can’t even tell who we are beneath the noses and the chins and the black wigs.”
“Oh,sit,” Rhoda said in exasperation. “We’ll look like witches today and be more memorable than ever.” She lowered her voice, despite only the four of them fitting in the small room. “Gladys is between protectors at the moment. She’s worried about what the gentlemen might think.”
Ah. A valid concern.
“The gentlemen don’t make their offers during the show,” Unity reminded Gladys. “I will personally redo your cosmetics after the last bow, faster than the audience can vacate their seats. By the time wealthy would-be lovers reach backstage, you’ll be the most beautiful actress in the theatre.”
“Oy!” Mabel smacked Unity’s hip. “Mrrph blerfle!”
“Don’t talk,” Unity reminded her. “Five more minutes until the glue sets.”
