Page 92 of A Contracted Spouse for the Prizefighter

Clem grunted. “Maybe, but she and Allsop ought not to have left you to your own devices last night when you were done on stage.”

Theo straightened up. “What do you mean?”

He cast her an unreadable look as he drew on his royal blue waistcoat. “It’s a rough crowd we get at The Eagle & Sun,” he said abruptly.

“You mean, that I ought not to have sought you out in the audience after?” Theo asked, biting her lip. “As a matter of fact, Lil did try to dissuade me. She told me to wait in the dressing room until you sent for me, but I—” She broke off, looking embarrassed.

“You what?” Clem asked gruffly.

“I just wanted to see you,” she admitted lamely. “No one else would do in that moment.”

Clem was silent for a couple of heartbeats, then he said, “Come here and fasten my cufflinks.”

Theo threw back the blankets and hurried to his side. Wordlessly, he extended his wrist to her, and she bent her gaze to the lapis lazuli links, threading them through and fastening first one cuff and then the other. Only then, did she raise her eyes to meet Clem’s steady gaze.

“I’ll get dressed,” she said averting her eyes, but he caught her chin, tilting it up so she met his eyes with hers.

“Only I would do?” he asked softly. Theo nodded. “So, say it then.”

“Only you would do in that moment,” she repeated. He stood gazing at her intently a moment, before releasing her. “Are you cross with me, Clem?” she blurted.

He shook his head. “Cross with myself.”

“Why?”

“Because I should have been waiting there for you.”

“But your friends—” she began.

“They would have waited.”

He took her to a newly opened establishment in Piccadilly. It was a little fancier than the eating houses they had frequented of late, and Dora found herself gazing about at the smart interior and the fashionable patrons with interest as they waited for their food.

Clem cleared his throat. “How is it that you—?” he started before apparently deciding against his choice of words. “I understand that you were acting, but some of those physical characteristics of yours looked very … authentic.”

Theo beamed at him. “Did you really think so?”

“I did.” He spoke carefully as though choosing his words. “I’ve seen male impersonators before of course,” he continued. “I’ve even seen that same scenario played out, or something close enough, but I’ve never seen anything quite like that before.” He looked faintly puzzled as he gazed at her.

Theo felt herself flush with pleasure. “I’m so glad,” she said. “That’s what my uncle always said you had to do, to have longevity in this game. Find something unique, I mean.” When Clem did not speak, just continued to watch her with a faint pucker between his brows, she plunged on. “Of course, the tunes were very catchy, and we were very fortunate that Harold agreed I could change the song lyrics.”

“It wasn’t the quality of the songs,” Clem said dismissively.

“And Lil has a lifetime of treading the boards behind her,” she rattled on. “She has a marvelous voice and performs with such confidence and verve.”

“She was very good,” he agreed briefly. “But I wasn’t talking about her.”

Theo felt her cheeks grow hot. She traced a finger along the tablecloth. “Are you saying you think I have what it takes to make it in the business, Clem?” she asked, suddenly breathless. Instantly, she was desperate to hear him say just that. She waited with bated breath, but he did not even appear to have heard her.

“It was almost like you disappeared from the stage altogether,” he mused. “I could scarcely recognize you, and I don’t mean your features. They of course remained unchanged, but somehow even the way you stood was completely unrecognizable to me.”

Theo thought he sounded a little unnerved. “All of my mannerisms are observed from life,” she hastened to explain. “I have hundreds now at my disposal.” When Clem gave her a hard look, she felt a little self-conscious. “Of course, I exaggerate some of them for comedic effect,” she said quickly, in case he should think she took herself too seriously. “It’s the simple art of mimicry really.”

He opened his mouth as though to speak, but then seemed to change his mind. She watched him tap a finger against the tablecloth and, almost without thinking, stored away the gesture to try at some later point. “I did not realize that your character was studied from life,” he said at last. “So, Percy is a real person? Someone you know?” He did not sound pleased by the notion.

Theo gave a startled laugh. “No, no, nothing of the sort. He is simply a comical caricature I have developed.”

“You based him off someone real though?”