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“What is this affinity you have for hiding?” he asked, his hand sliding down her back and shifting to her bottom. “Why are we always eavesdropping? I’m sure Aunt Knowe wouldn’t approve.”

“Devin!” Viola protested, moving her hips away from his caress.

“If you’re making me hide behind a curtain, you must expect a certain level of intimacy,” her husband said. But he pulled her in front of him and contented himself with wrapping his arms around her.

“Freddy was nibbled by the calf,” Caitlin said. She was staring intently at the child’s finger, and not looking at Mr. Marlowe.

“The calf?”

At that, Caitlin did glance up. “Surely you remember there are live animals in the performance? As you will recall, the Duke of Wynter overruled Miss Pettigrew.”

“I’m a sheep!” Freddy piped up.

“Why don’t you go find your tail?” Caitlin told him, and he ran away.

“I recall there was a rat,” Mr. Marlowe observed. “I didn’t realize that St. Wilfrid’s was welcoming true livestock.”

“Only a few,” Caitlin said. “Mr. Brisket kindly brought two rabbits and a calf from his butcher shop. Oh, and some chickens.”

“Where are the animals?”

“Miss Pettigrew is going to hate this,” Viola murmured.

Surprisingly, Mr. Marlowe didn’t look angry.

“Behind the stage,” Caitlin said.

At that moment they all heard a distinct lowing noise.

“My fiancée detests animals and has strong views about their rightful place,” Mr. Marlowe remarked.

“We all know that,” Caitlin said, her voice perfectly even. “You’ll be glad to know that Sam the rat has not joined the cast. I didn’t want to upset Miss Pettigrew.”

“Too late for that,” Devin said in Viola’s ear.

“Everything seems to be quite well here,” Mr. Marlowe said, smiling at Caitlin.

“Do give Miss Pettigrew my best wishes,” she said. “I hope she will not be scandalized by the animals.”

Mr. Marlowe bowed. “To be honest, Lady Caitlin, I fear the worst.”

She blinked at him.

He dropped a kiss on her cheek. “I will join Miss Pettigrew in the front row.” Mr. Marlowe walked away.

Caitlin looked like a teakettle on the boil.

“Hello!” Viola cried, popping from behind the curtain.

“Did you see that? I will never darken the door of this church again,” Caitlin said in a low, furious tone. “He kissed me, as if I were a light-skirt, and strolled off to sit beside his betrothed.” She scowled at Devin. “St. Wilfrid’s deserves better.”

“I have no doubt,” Devin agreed. “Should I cut him off without a penny?”

Caitlin gasped. “No!”

“He shouldn’t have kissed you,” Viola observed.

Caitlin wound her fingers together. “It’s no matter,” she said, her eyes shining with tears that she determinedly blinked away. “A more important problem is that we’ve had two dress rehearsals and we haven’t managed to get through the play either time. At least Mr. Higgins seems to be fairly sober tonight.”