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She should have refused this invitation. She was enjoying Tom’s performance, but she was also creating a false impression. The young ladies were obviously curious, or had been before their admirers arrived. The earl’s party wanted to know who she was, where she came from, and why he had invited her to sit beside him in the box. The first two were none of their affair, and the last was…a whim she ought not to have indulged. She bent her head behind the shield of her mantilla.
“Compton seems to be mounting a defense against the onslaught of visitors,” said Macklin. He sounded amused.
“He is engaged to the young lady with the eyebrows,” Teresa replied. She had absorbed the flurry of introductions at the beginning of the evening.
“Miss Ada Grandison,” the earl said.
“She is very happy about that, I think.”
“Yes, she won him in a treasure hunt.”
Teresa wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly. Was this perhaps some odd English idiom? She decided to ignore it. “I think the girl with the red hair wishes she was somewhere else,” she said.
“Miss Finch does look uneasy,” her companion agreed. “Which is strange, since she is an heiress and much courted by society.”
“For her money?” Teresa asked.
“Well, in the beginning, I suppose so.”
“And you wonder that she might not like that?”
He did her the courtesy of considering her remark. “I can see that it is a two-edged sword,” he replied finally. “And yet her path in society is smoothed. She is welcomed as others are not. She may not realize her luck.”
“That welcome has nothing to do with her personally,” said Teresa.
“I would not go so far. She is a pretty girl, and amiable.”
“The pick of the heiresses, in fact. Like the ripest orange on the tree.”
He cocked his head at the bitterness that had entered her voice. “She will have more choices than many young ladies are granted.”
Teresa bowed her head to acknowledge his point and to shade her face. Why did she agitate herself over strangers? She had enough to do managing her own life. She was glad when the play resumed and ended the conversation.
Someone must have spoken to Tom, Arthur thought, because he was much more subdued in the later parts of the play. He did not draw attention from the main characters or add flourishes to his speeches. He was the model of a secondary actor. Arthur felt the retreat was too bad, but no doubt it was the better part of valor, and Tom would survive to act again.
The lad’s part in the play ended well before the climax, and he appeared at Arthur’s box as soon as the piece was finished to receive their congratulations. “I should go,” began Señora Alvarez when these were done.
“Not yet.” Tom took her arm with a grin. “We’re having champagne to celebrate, thanks to his lordship.”
In fact this had been Tom’s idea. He’d arranged the whole. Really, the lad had become most enterprising in his new life.
They moved en masse to the theater entrance. There were sidelong glances as they departed with the lad, forming one of the largest groups of admirers in the place. Only the lead actors had more, and they eyed his entourage with speculative rivalry. The attention was a two-edged sword, Arthur thought. Popularity would help Tom gain more roles and build a reputation as an actor, but it might also attract retribution. If anyone could navigate those shoals, however, it was Tom.
Arthur had engaged a private parlor at a nearby inn, on Tom’s instructions. The lad guided them there very much like a sheepdog whose herd included one member very eager to stray. Tom hadn’t let go of Señora Alvarez’s arm. Fortunately for Arthur’s peace of mind, she began to look amused at the lad’s enthusiasm.
At the inn, they opened champagne and toasted Tom’s performance and prospects for a successful career on the stage. “Have to say I like acting,” the lad said in reply. “Mebbe a bit too much, according to what was said to me during the first interval.”
“I suppose the other actors were jealous because the audience liked you,” said Miss Deeping.
“Do you think they did?” asked Tom.
Arthur found it touching, as well as amusing, to see that Tom wasn’t immune to the desire for praise.
“Oh yes,” said Miss Moran. “You were so funny.”
This made Tom beam. “Mr. Bennett said it wasn’t my place to draw attention, though.”
“Was he the one playing the hero?” asked Miss Ada Grandison.
