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The eyebrows rose. ‘Territorial, is he? A fine thing for a theatre manager, I must say.’
‘He is a powerful and intelligent man, Papa.’ He narrowed his eyes at her, suspicious, as she hastened to add, ‘You need have no fear my investment is at risk.’
‘Humph. Glad to hear it. Ah, now here’s the post. Thank you, Rainbow. Good gad, what have we here?’ He poked a long finger at the pile.
‘Invitations for Lady Maude, my lord.’
‘Yours, yours…’ Maude scooped up the pile her father extracted and began to slit seals. She was going to have to get her diary out and study it. It was already full, and some of these were events she wanted to attend.
‘Papa?’ The earl was staring at the sheet of paper in his hand, an odd expression on his face. ‘Is anything wrong?’
‘Someone your mother and I knew a long time ago is very ill.’
‘I’m so sorry. Will you visit?’ Maude got up and went to take the chair next to him.
‘Visit? No, she lives in Scotland. By the time I got there…Anyway, she was more a friend of your mother’s than mine. Almost became your godmother, in fact.’ His gaze was unfocused, as though he looked back down the years.
‘Really? Why, almost?’
‘The old earl, your grandfather, did not feel she was…suitable. And in those days,’ he added with a mock-scowl at her, ‘one did what one’s parents advised.’
‘Would I have ever met her?’ Maude asked.
‘No. Never. Pity she’s going.’ He sighed. ‘Lovely woman. Very talented. Ah well, I must be off to the House.’
Papa’s obvious sadness at the news of his long-ago acquaintance subdued Maude’s mood and left her the subject of a not-unpleasant melancholy by the time she settled herself in her box again. Anna appeared to have decided that it was quite safe to leave her mistress after yesterday’s long, and as far as she was concerned, highly tedious, proceedings.
‘May I go down and see Millie, my lady? Only she said she’d show me the costumes and it’s ever so interesting.’
‘Yes, of course.’ Maude waved her away with a vague hand and settled back to brooding on hopeless love, the futility of pleasure, the fleeting nature of existence…
‘And lo! What light…’
Maude jerked upright and peered over the edge of the box to find Eden looking up at her. ‘Hello. I was indulging in a comfortable fit of melancholy.’ Seeing him again after last night should have been awkward, but he appeared his normal, rather cool self, despite the joking quote from Romeo and Juliet. Maude reminded herself that they were supposed to be working. ‘Sorry, I am paying attention now.’
‘In that case, your ladyship, we will begin.’ He stalked back to his chair and sat, his back to her. Was he cross with her? Did he expect her to be looking out for him, eager to see him after last night? Or was he angry with himself? Or merely impatient to get on with the job in hand?
Maude cupped her chin in her palm and indulged herself by studying Eden’s back. He had discarded his coat and was in shirtsleeves, waistcoat and breeches, an outfit which made him look even more powerfully masculine than usual.
‘Miss Jones, hurry up, if you please!’
The first actress hurried on stage, Tom Gates at her heels, and proceeded to say her lines. Maude saw Mr Howard prowling about in the stalls, listening from various positions. She scribbled notes.
Eden called the girl over and began to speak to her, apparently taking details of her past experience. With nothing to do, Maude watched Tom picking up small objects from the table and beginning to juggle. In contrast to his acting, his juggling was positively amateur, she thought, watching him fumble a small jar.
Then it hit her, her wonderful idea for the charity event. Maude scrabbled amongst her papers, found a clean sheet and began to write.
‘Next!’ Bother. She found the name of the second candidate and made herself concentrate.
By the time all six had been seen it was almost one o’clock and Millie was setting the table again with, Maude was amused to see, Anna helping her. She sorted her notes and went down onto the stage.
Eden and Howard were pacing up and down arguing, Gates at their heels trying to get a word in edgeways.
‘Jones or Thomson,’ Howard was saying.
‘Thomson, possibly, but Miss Lewis was far and away better overall,’ Eden asserted.
‘Miss Jones picked up cues…’ Tom started and was ignored. He saw Maude and grimaced comically.
