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“Not Delia. She refers to Mr. Drake as Arthur.”
“That’s true.” She smiled slightly. “It’s really quite endearing.”
“He’s besotted with her, isn’t he?”
“Yes. He always has been, I think. I’m not sure Delia realizes it; although, how she could miss it I can’t begin to imagine. And your presumption is correct. They are retired actors, with long and storied careers. They were associates of my father, who was also an actor.”
“But not cousins of yours, I’m guessing,” he said with a smile.
“No, but just as dear.”
They had crossed the lawns and were nearing a cluster of willows he’dplayed under as a boy—he and Isaac and Susan. Lavinia drew the fronds of the first willow tree to the side so she could step under the canopy. Lucas followed. “Delia was quite the rage in her day, from what I understand,” Lavinia said. “She’s small in stature but very powerful when she wants to be. She was quitethe leading lady and even performed for the king.”
“Indeed?”
“I saw her play Titania, queen of the fairies, inA Midsummer Night’s Dreamwhen I was very young. I—well, never mind. She was breathtaking—commanding the stage as a queen would, even a fairy queen. She truly seemed a fairy, and I wanted her to be, and I wanted her to have magic, to actually be able to change men to beasts and back again.” She stopped speaking, and Lucas wondered about a little girl who longed for that particular magicalwish. Didn’t little girls wish for handsome princes or jewels and such?
She continued. “The others have told me about her performances as Desdemona and Ophelia, and apparently she was a very saucy Viola inTwelfth Night.”
“I’m guessing Artie has similar accolades.”
She actually grinned then, and Lucas’s heart did a somersault. She’d looked so somber just a moment before. “Artie’s specialty tended to be more comedic, although, personally, I think he always dreamt of being a leading man.”
“How long have you been an actress, Lavinia?” he asked as though it were the most normal question he could have posed to her.
She was silent, and Lucas thought she would not answer, but finally, she spoke. “How long have I been an actress? Oh, Lucas, I have acted my entire life.”
A simple reply, but one that held many layers.
Lucas intended to peel away those layers to the real Lavinia beneath them.
* * *
“You have been asking all the questions,” Lavinia said, running the leafy fronds of the willow tree through her fingers. “It’s my turn now.”
“Fair enough,” Lucas replied. “You may question me to your heart’s content—after I ask you one more: Have you ever climbed a tree? These willows are some of the best climbing trees to be found. Susan and Isaac will tell you the same. You could frequently find one of us or all of us here when we were young.”
Lavinia was wearing one of her best day dresses, having changed out of her best traveling gown, so she would feel presentable to the viscount and viscountess. What if she climbed the tree and her dress snagged on a branch and was ruined? Oh, but she’d never had the opportunity as a child to do somethingas utterly normal as climb a tree. The idea was incredibly tempting . . .
“The woody branches are low enough even for a child,” Lucas said, apparently sensing her initial hesitation. “There is truly nothing to compare with climbing a tree. Children of all ages need to climb trees. It is where the worlds in their dreams become real.”
Lavinia gazed longingly at the willow and at Lucas standing next to it, his hand propped against its solid trunk. There were four willow trees here that looked to be the same age and size, each of them with solid, sturdy branches near the trunk, beckoning to be climbed, and long, slender branches coveredin feathery leaves that created a green curtain about them that waved softly in the breeze.
“I’m wearing one of my best dresses,” she said. “If I tear it because I listened to you and ventured up into this tree, I shall consider it your fault and expect you to replace it with something equal or better.”
He grinned at her, a lopsided one that was part rake and part little boy and altogether too charming for her own good, and extended his hand to her. “Deal. Allow me to assist.”
Lavinia puffed out an exasperated breath, placed one hand in his and the other on the tree, and set her foot on a large knot in the trunk about three feet from the ground. Then she boosted herself up, with Lucas’s help, setting her other foot in the spot where the trunk split into two sturdy branches. A couple of feet above that spot, the tree split again, and Lavinia decided to climb up to it as well. In for a penny, in for a pound, as the saying went.
“I’m right behind you,” Lucas said. “I’ll catch you if you fall.”
Lavinia looked over her shoulder. With Lucas standing on the first split, his head was nearly even with hers. Oh, but he was a lovely man, with thick brown hair and clear hazel eyes, and Lavinia was drawn to him, but her growing attraction for him was alarming to her as well.
Ever since she’d reached her adolescence, men in every town the troupe had visited had tended to swarm her. At the age of ten it had been terrifying—the catcalls, the lewd gestures she hadn’t understood, the money offered to her. Her father had at least been a marginally protective parent back then, shooing the riffraff away. “Livvy, my girl,” he’d said to her on more than one occasion. “Your looks are your prized possessionandyour poison. Have a care.”
As she’d gotten older, her father’s dubious paternal instincts had dwindled as his need for drink had grown, and his advice had changed. “Livvy, my girl,” he’d say—he’d always addressed her as “Livvy, my girl,” come to think of it—“there’s this toff I know. Good bloke, deep pockets. He’d take care of you, good care, mind, and it wouldn’t do me any harm either. Think aboutit. Then your old papa wouldn’t have to worry about you.”
She’d heard variations of it in nearly every town they visited. If she hadn’t had Hannah by her side all those years . . . She shuddered to think where she’d be now.
