The play was amusing in parts. It was a recounting of the adventures of two gentlemen on a night out in London, and sprinkled with well-known London characters, rich and poor, and inside jokes. The play had been well received by the Duke of Wellington and other luminaries. Roberta found herself laughing along with everyone else, but she was finding it difficult to concentrate, with Estelle and Karl whispering on one side and Niki silent on the other. She glanced at him several times, admiring his profile against the faint lighting from the box beside them. It appeared to be empty apart from an elderly couple, one of whom was asleep and could be heard snoring during the quieter moments.
The first act finished, and a servant arrived to offer a selection of refreshments so that they need not leave their seats—or mingle with the common folk, according to Karl. The countess preferred to stretch her legs and set off accompanied by the relative of her husband. Roberta noticed Freddie glance after her, and there was something wistful in his expression that struck her as interesting. Was there romance in the air? She would have to tell Gabriel, although she was sure he would remind her it was none of her business. Her brother and his friend Charles were both married and settled, but thus far, Freddie had never shown any desire to follow their lead.
Niki had gone to speak to Freddie, the two of them with their heads close, before chatting with the two old men from Holtswig, but Roberta stayed beside Estelle. Her friend wastaking a long time choosing between the apricot- or orange-flavored sorbet, much to Karl’s amusement as he sipped his wine. Their voices were a little loud, and Roberta could see that Estelle was excited by the company she was in and particularly the man at her side. When Matilda returned to the box, she frowned at them and then beckoned Karl over. Roberta could not hear what was said, but she suspected his aunt was warning him to behave himself. It didn’t have any effect, because when Karl returned to sit by Estelle, he was not looking the least bit repentant.
Roberta hoped this did not mean Estelle would be banished from accompanying her at more of these entertainments. She had few friends among the Holtswig crowd, and tonight, it had been nice to have someone at her side who washers. Although she enjoyed being with Ernest, Karl was always friendly, and even Matilda had been kind to her, one of the elderly counsellors was staring at her as if he wished she would vanish in a puff of smoke.
Not for the first time, it occurred to her to wonder if there was a particular someone in Holtswig who Niki was expected to marry. A more suitable choice. Someone who was waiting patiently for his return so that they could resume their interrupted lives. Was Roberta just a bump in the road, soon to be forgotten?
It was a miserable thought, and it didn’t help when she overheard voices to the side of her, in the adjacent box, where the elderly couple were awake and eating pastries and guzzling claret.
“Who on earth does the chit think she is? He will cast her off within a year, mark my words. The Ashtons think themselves above the rest of us. I blame the grandmother for that.”
The gentleman replied with a grunt.
“She was no better than she should be,” the voice went on.“And as for the current duke, did you know—”
The voice dropped, and she couldn’t hear any more, and nor did she want to. Such cruel and unfair words. She felt her face warm with righteous indignation. The Ashtons were as good as anyone else, and just because her family had been involved in a scandal or two—or several, to be honest—it did not mean she would not make a worthy princess of Holtswig.
“They’re just jealous.” Estelle had heard them too. She reached out and squeezed Roberta’s tightly gripped hands. “Ignore them, Robbie. Marry the prince and be happy. That is the way to punish such spite.”
Roberta remembered then that her friend had also been the subject of a great deal of gossip, her family residing on the edge of respectability. But she was right! Why should Roberta wish to please the awful gossips next door? Life would be terribly boring if she did that. She wanted to live a life that was interesting and exciting, and more than that, she wanted to be herself and not be kept within the narrow confines of those who did not know her and yet still sought to judge her.
The second act of the play was just about to begin as Niki returned, and the lights were once again dimming. “I told Hart that your unwelcome admirer is in the theater,” he whispered close to her ear, making her shiver. “One can’t be too careful,” he added cryptically. Before Roberta could respond, the curtain rose on a new scene—London at night—and the actors began to speak. Suddenly, there was a soft cry and what sounded like a scuffle from the adjacent box where the snoring man and gossiping woman were seated. Roberta turned her head and realized that someone was standing there, a shadow against the mutedlight. For one shocking moment, she thought it was Mr. Walter, and her heart gave a painful thud. The man was of a similar build, tall and slim, and he must have moved because now he was right beside them, almost leaning over the balcony of his box to get closer to theirs.
She may have spoken, said his name, because Niki turned too and gave a shout. Roberta saw that the man had raised his hand, and she thought he was pointing with some object, and then everything became perfectly clear, and she recognized the object he was holding as a pistol.
More voices were raised in a muddle of sound. The figure’s attention was fixed on Niki, who cried out, “Who is that?” Behind her, she heard Freddie shout and the crash of his approach over the backs of the seats, causing more screams. Would he reach them in time? She didn’t think so. Somewhere in her muddled brain it became clear to her that this was her fault, and there was only one thing she could do.
Roberta flung herself against Niki just as he began to rise, shielding him with her body.
He made a surprised whoof of breath and tried to throw her off, but it was too late. The shot was fired. So loud it was deafening in the confined space.
Now the entire audience was up and shouting and screaming, but the sound of her own heart beating in her ears was louder. Freddie’s voice rang out. “Take him!” Afterward, she couldn’t remember much of what happened next, except that she had expected to die. And when Niki set her firmly back in her seat, she was very surprised to find she was alive.
Chapter Thirteen
If Niki had ever doubted Freddie Hart’s commitment to watching over him, he was now convinced. Yes, someone had managed to get into the theater and try to hurt him again, but before he could do so, he was apprehended. Freddie had set guards along the corridor and the entrances to the other boxes, and as soon as the assassin made his move, so did Freddie’s men. The weapon was shoved aside and the pistol shot discharged up into the ornate ceiling, showering them with plaster as the man stood with his arms pinned behind his back.
Niki felt lightheaded. He would have liked to sit down and close his eyes, but he found it impossible to show that sort of weakness in front of all these people. And he was still alive. He had escaped another attempt on his life and survived. But it was Roberta putting herself in such terrible danger that made him dizzy. Forhim. To savehim. Right now, he didn’t know whether to thank her or rage at her for taking such a risk.
She was still seated beside him, white-faced and silent. Estelle had an arm around her and was anything but silent, her babbling washing over him without him hearing a word of it. He wanted to take Roberta in his own arms, hold her close and never let her go, and if she had given him one sign that she would bereceptive, then he would have. But she sat, withdrawn, her head bowed, and stared at her hands.
The idea of losing her made him feel sick. Had Roberta become more important to him than the plot against him or finding out who were the perpetrators? To admit such a thing was terrifying—that he could feel so much for one person. But conversely, her being in his life made him feel so much happier than he ever had been before.
“Sir? Prince Nikolai? Are you listening to me?”
It was Freddie standing before him and peering into his face with intent hazel eyes, his own face creased in an anxious frown. Niki blinked, swallowed, and forced his emotions back down where they belonged. He nodded brusquely.
“I am listening. That man…?” He looked about him for the would-be assassin and couldn’t see him. The box across from theirs was empty.
“I have taken him into custody,” Freddie said quietly. “I will interview him, and I will need you and those close to you to see if you recognize him. Awful as this situation has been, perhaps it has a benefit. It may help us to discover whether this man acted on his own or was the pawn of a larger group.”
Niki cast his thoughts back to the moments before, but they were hazy. His impression had been of a younger man, thin, wild-eyed. Did he know him? He didn’t think so, and yet there was a niggling doubt in his mind. “I don’t believe I know him,” he said slowly, “but I am happy to take another look.”
Freddie nodded. He seemed to gather himself. “I want to apologize, sir. I thought I had covered all possible scenarios. This man told the guard at the entrance to the box next to you thathe was the son of Lord and Lady Postlethwait. He was plausible enough, and the Postlethwaits seemed to know him. They are elderly and now claim to have been mistaken. Nevertheless, I take full responsibility for this failure.”
Niki met the other man’s eyes with understanding. Freddie was right, it was a serious breach in his plans to protect Niki, and yet as awful as this situation was, it might turn out to be lucky for them. If they could discover through their captive who wanted him dead, then they could put a stop to this dire situation and arrest the malefactors.
