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He sighed impatiently and drew away, then exited the carriage and extended his hand to her, assisting her with aristocratic dignity. He did not relinquish her hand, however, as he led her to her front door. The house wascompletely dark, and Lavinia prayed he wouldn’t notice and that nothing elsemight appear suspicious to him.
She tugged her hand from his and turned toward him very deliberately. “Good evening, Lord Cosgrove,” she said in a carrying voice while dropping into a formal curtsy, hoping her actions would put more emotional distance between them.
“I catch your drift; don’t worry, my dear. I will not have it said that I forced a lady,” he replied with an edge to his voice. He moved closer, and Lavinia tensed. “But I believe I have at least earned the kiss I requested.” He took her chin firmly in hand and lowered his mouth to hers, using his vast expertise in an attempt to lower her resistance.
Lavinia endured the earl’s kiss, despite the repugnance she felt. It was safer to do so than to resist, especially since he’d indicated he would leave afterward.
He eventually drew away from her and dropped his hand. “Well,” he said. “Well, well, but you are a stubborn little thing, aren’t you? Do not presume to think matters have been resolved between us, my dear Miss Chadwick. On the contrary, I believe the game is just beginning. I am a determined man—and I always get what I want. Do not doubt me on this score.” He bowed to her. “Adieu, then. For now.”
She watched him return to his carriage and climb inside before she turned and unlocked the door to her house. Once she’d closed the door behind her, she relocked it and rushed to the parlor so she could continue watching until his carriage retreated from sight.
With Lord Cosgrove finally gone, she made her way in the darkness to the back of the house, where Hannah had left a change of clothing for her. It was time for Ruby Chadwick to disappear for good.
But first she needed to catch her breath.
Lavinia’s entire life had revolved around the theater. She’d been born into it, the daughter of an actor, who’d also been a drunken womanizer, and a mother who hadn’t cared enough about her own daughter to take her with her when she’d left. All Lavinia had ever wanted was a normal life and a normal home, away from the clamoring crowds and predatory men she encountered every evening. And now she had the means to do it, if everything continued to go according to plan.
She hurriedly changed out of her red velvet gown, carefully folding the beautiful garment before putting it in her bag. The dress would never be the same after traveling in such a manner, she thought sadly. Hannah was gifted with the needle, and the gown was a masterpiece.
She tucked her earbobs and necklace into the bag as well, nestled into the folds of the gown. The jewelry was expertly made, but they were paste costume pieces created for the theater, as was the matching ring on her finger. They’d been created for her to wear while playing Anne Boleyn inHenry the Eighth—well, more like a shortened, somewhat musical version ofHenrythat the troupe had performed in Dorset a few years back. When the troupe had disbanded, they’d divvied up the props and costumes, and she’d kept these, along with a few other items. They weren’t real, much like her life on stage and her identity as Ruby Chadwick weren’t real. They had come in handy tonight though.
She quickly donned the drab gray dress and cloak Hannah had left and twisted her unmistakable red hair up and tucked it inside the oversized lace cap she would wear under her bonnet. Then she peered into the mirror and dabbed on theater paint to aid in her disguise, but there was no disguising her facial features from anyone who knew them well. She would have to hope she didn’t run into any such person.
She left the house through the kitchen entrance in the back, quietly making her way through the garden gate and keeping in the shadows until she was several houses away from her own. As careful as she’d been, she had to be sure Lord Cosgrove hadn’t sent one of his lackeys to spy on her. She wouldn’t put it past him; the man was too possessive. Tooobsessive.
Finding a hackney ended up being more difficult than she had expected, but she finally managed to get one and, after a long, tense drive, she was finally in the courtyard of the White Horse on the northern outskirts of the city, near the borough of Barnet, her bag by her side as she dug money from her reticule to pay the hackney driver his fare. All she needed to do now was find Hannah and Delia and Artie.
It wasn’t quite midnight, which was good, although she really hadn’t expected to be cutting it so close on time, drat the Earl of Cosgrove. He’d nearly ruined everything.
Despite the lateness of the hour, there was a surprising amount of activity at the White Horse. A group of passengers was exiting a stagecoach and hurryinginside the inn for the night while grooms busied themselves tending to thehorses.
She handed the money to the hackney driver, picked up her bag, and crossed the courtyard toward the entrance of the inn. Once inside, she stayed near the door to survey things and search for her friends. At least one of them, if not all three, was supposed to meet her in the public area of the inn.
The large public room was still busy despite the lateness of the hour, the majority of its tables occupied. A group of local men sat at the bar, drinking. Serving girls wandered from table to table, refilling glasses and clearing away empty plates. The air was warm and heavy, and the smell of roasted mutton and potatoes filled Lavinia’s nostrils as the low hum of conversation swirled around her. Her stomach growled; she hadn’t eaten since luncheon, being too nervous to eat before this particular evening’s performances—both onstage and off—but she needed to find Hannah and the others first before addressing her hunger.
She looked around the room but couldn’t see them, which was troubling. Delia and Artie were dears, but they tended to leave the details up to Hannah, and Hannah had been worried enough about the details tonight to get them confused.
Hannah wouldn’t have gone to someplace called the White Hart instead of the White Horse after all, would she?
Wouldshe?
Lavinia frantically cast her eyes around the public room again, prayingshe’d simply overlooked her friends the first time. This go-around, she noticed a man sitting alone at a table in the corner. He didn’t appear to be much older than herself, a few years at most, and yet there was a look about him that told her he was older than his years. He was intently studying a crumpled piece ofpaper that sat on the table next to his empty supper plate.
Even though he was seated, it was obvious he was taller than the average man. One long leg extended out from beneath the table, and the hand reaching for his glass of ale was large and competent looking. The fact that he was a lone traveler had also made him stand out from the crowd.
Her gaze moved on, although it became readily apparent that Hannah and the others weren’t here. And then she spied a group of gentlemen whowere familiar to her, seated at a table to her right, playing cards. She froze at the sight.
The gentlemen, eager to make their mark in London society, were frequently part of Lord Cosgrove’s usual entourage. Lavinia had often seen them in the boxes of the theatre and outside her dressing-room door after performances.Why they were here, on the very outskirts of London, and not at one of theirmore usual haunts, was most likely a coincidence—but a worse coincidence shecouldn’t have imagined.
The night needed only this.
She had to avoid being seen by them. If they recognized her, word would make its way back to Drury Lane and Alfred Hinchcliffe and Lord Cosgrove and all the others. It was not vain of her to imagine she would be pursued by at least some of them, most notably Cosgrove—she’d deliberately created the character of Ruby to be intriguing and desirable to the opposite sex, and with demonstrable success.
She would not give up on her dream, not after all she’d done tonight to have it. She wouldnot. She must leave the White Horse immediately. Hannah, Delia, and Artie were obviously not here, so there was no use staying anyway.
Oh, but she was tired and hungry.
In her tiredness, however, she waited a fraction too long to act. One of Cosgrove’s minions looked up from his cards and spotted her. He half stood in recognition and opened his mouth. “I say—” he began.
There was nothing for it.
“Husband!” she exclaimed, hurrying across the room to the tall man sitting alone in the corner. She threw her arms about his broad shoulders and tucked her head next to his on the side facing away from the rest of the room. “Here you are!”
