Page 43 of Fairest of Heart

His cynicism was under siege, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could withstand her barrage. Her forgiveness given without hesitation. Her willingness to help him despite the fact that he’d treated her abominably. The way she touched his hand and offered comfort when he was the one who’d wronged her.

He’d never met someone with such generosity of spirit. And to find it packaged inside the most beautiful young woman he’d ever seen left him untethered and adrift.

At least he still had his job to give him stability.

“There has been a string of thefts lately that seem to follow the route taken by the Chicago Theatrical Company. I have reason to believe that a member of the company is responsible for these thefts. As a former member of the troupe, I’m hoping you can share some insight to help me narrow down my pool of suspects.”

Penelope frowned slightly. “I didn’t interact with many members of the company. Madame LaBelle is a rather . . . demanding employer. She expected me to stay nearby at all times in case she needed something. I didn’t mingle much.”

Titus struggled with how much to reveal about the case. Telling her that Madame LaBelle was his chief suspect could tempt her to skew her testimony to implicate her former employer, either in retribution for the woman’s onerous treatment or to ensure he continued to believe in Penelope’s innocence. Neither scenario seemed likely given Penelope’s guileless nature, but he couldn’t toss out his Ranger training because a potential witness seemed overly wholesome.

“You might know more than you think,” he said, opting to keep at least a few cards close to the vest. “For example, when Mr. Billings and Madame LaBelle selected patrons to invite backstage, did they woo these patrons outside the theater as well?”

Penelope leaned back against the settee’s cushion, a thoughtful look puckering her brow. “In cities where we offered multiple performances, there was usually a party to celebrate closing night. Madame always took extra care with her appearance for those events. She once had me redo her hair three times before she was satisfied, insisting that everything had to be perfect if she hoped to secure the patron’s support.”

“So she took the lead with these special guests?”

“Yes. Mr. Billings manages the company, but Madame handles all the wealthy clients personally.”

Making her the most likely suspect. Titus stretched his legs out in front of him as he took a minute to cogitate. Not only did Madame have access to men of wealth and prestige, but she bestowed personalized attention on them, giving her opportunity. Especially if that personalized attention took them away from prying eyes.

Titus straightened. “Did Madame LaBelle ever entertain these patrons privately?”

Doc stiffened and shot him a frown. “I hardly think that type of question is appropriate, Titus.”

“It might not be appropriate, but it’s plenty pertinent.” Titus hesitated before turning back to Penelope, allowing some of the awkwardness to fade before encouraging her to continue. “I realize this is an indelicate question, but I wouldn’t ask if it didn’t have bearing on the case.”

Penelope bent her head and started picking at her apron pockets. “I never attended any of those parties, so I really can’t say. . . .”

She knew something. Or suspected something. Why else would she leave that sentence hanging?

Titus couldn’t let it go. “When Madame was entertaining the patrons at the theater, how did she act toward them? Businesslike? Flirtatious?”

Penelope’s head jerked upward at the second descriptor. Flirtatious, then.

“You have to understand,” she said. “Madame makes her living off the persona she presents to the world. On stage as well as off. She might act the coquette around the wealthy men she hopes to impress, but I think that is because she believes her beauty is the only thing that gives her value. It’s sad, really. She constantly examines herself in the mirror and picks out every flaw and imperfection, no matter how tiny. She is one of the most striking women I’ve ever seen, yet she is also one of the most unhappy people I’ve ever known.”

The contrast of how Penelope described her mistress and Madame LaBelle’s description of her maid could not have been starker. Penelope defended her former employer with unmerited loyalty and compassion, while Madame LaBelle painted her maid as an ungrateful tart. It held a rather unflattering mirror in front of his own soul, for Titus doubted he could have spoken as kindly about someone who had wronged him.

“Forgive me for asking,” Titus continued, “but did you ever notice a night, perhaps when one of these parties was going on, that Madame did not return to her room?”

Penelope shook her head. “There were nights when she returned late, but she always returned well before dawn. All the cast members returned late after one of those parties.”

“Did she usually return with the other cast members or alone?”

“Alone. Well . . .” She hesitated. “Not alone, exactly. She usually returned with Mr. Hunt.”

Titus leaned forward. “Mr. Hunt?”

She evaded his gaze as pink returned to her cheeks. “Cecil Hunt. He’s one of the stagehands. He runs errands for her.”

“Is that all he does for her?” With the way she was blushing, Titus would bet the man was far more than an errand boy.

“I don’t know the precise nature of their relationship, but they are very . . . close.”

Now they were getting somewhere. If Hunt and Madame were partners, that could explain why he didn’t find any of the missing items in Madame’s room. Although, he didn’t recall meeting a man named Cecil Hunt when he visited the troupe.

“Does Mr. Hunt run personal errands for Madame?”