‘I’ve ordered lobster,’ Herbert told Miss Coop as he shook out his napkin.
She clapped her hands. ‘Oh, that’s my favourite, Herbie!’
Pet name terms already, Darius thought grimly. Mentally he’d already estimated an amount to offer Miss Coop. He nudged the price up a few hundred pounds.
‘Do you care for lobster, too, Miss Fairmont?’ he asked the young woman seated to his right.
‘Yes, thank you,’ she replied.
‘We’re always starving when we come off stage, aren’t we, Cally?’ Miss Coop giggled.
‘Well, it is hard work,’ Herbert said admiringly. ‘I say, you were very good tonight.’
‘I spoke two lines,’ Miss Coop said proudly.
‘You were marvellous. And so were you, Miss Fairmont,’ Herbert added hastily.
Miss Fairmont smiled. It was an unaffected smile with no vanity in it, which was unexpected from an actress. ‘Thank you.’
Darius gave her a sideways glance. Again she coolly met his gaze.
‘Did you have a speaking part, too?’ he enquired.
Miss Coop squealed. ‘A speaking part? Calista has the main part!’
Darius raised an eyebrow. ‘You do?’
She nodded.
‘Miss Fairmont is quite famous,’ Herbert explained. ‘I thought you knew.’
‘My apologies,’ said Darius.
‘It’s quite all right.’ The corners of her mouth curved. ‘I wasn’t familiar with your name either.’
He drew back.
‘I take it you’re not a theatregoer.’ She seemed unconcerned that he hadn’t heard of her. She didn’t pout or exclaim at his ignorance. Instead she reached for her glass of water and sipped. Her lips were pink and full.
Darius shook his head. ‘I don’t care for play-acting, Miss Fairmont.’
He became aware of her studying him as she replaced her glass on the table. Her head was lowered, but he sensed the acuteness of her dark-blue stare.
‘Miss Fairmont has played many roles of note,’ Herbert went on. ‘Juliet, Rosalind, Ophelia...’
‘And the fair penitent?’ Darius asked.
Her head jerked up. ‘You recognise the source of my name. I thought you said you disliked the theatre.’
‘Not the theatre, Miss Fairmont.’ He glanced towards Miss Coop. ‘Play-acting is what I despise.’
When she spoke, Miss Fairmont’s voice held a sharpness that brought him back to look at her. Her lips had tightened. ‘I understand.’
Now he could sense her fragrance as heat reached her cheeks, making them even redder. The scent of her warm body reached him, too, along with the faintest waft of lavender from her hair.
‘I don’t understand!’ Miss Coop exclaimed. ‘What on earth are you two talking about?’
‘My name, Mabel,’ Miss Fairmont replied swiftly. ‘It comes from a play by Rowe, called The Fair Penitent.’
‘The main male part is Lothario, I believe,’ Darius drawled.
‘The seducer of women, yes,’ she flashed back in reply. ‘The kind of man who sees all women in one light.’
‘I told you my cousin was clever,’ Herbert said proudly to Mabel.
‘You did, Herbie.’ She beamed at him.
‘Perhaps he isn’t as clever as he thinks,’ said Miss Fairmont.
Her head was held high, revealing the bird-like shape of her collarbones and her long neck. Darius was reminded, suddenly, of a swan that glided on the lake at his country home. It had bitten him, once.
Herbert looked from one to the other. ‘I say, what’s the matter?’
‘Is something wrong, Cally?’ Miss Coop asked.
‘We’re here under false pretences, Mabel,’ the actress said with scorn. ‘For all his contempt of play-acting, the duke has turned in a fine performance.’
Mabel Coop’s hand went to her bosom. ‘Herbie, what does she mean?’
‘I’ve not the faintest notion,’ Herbert replied, slack-jawed.
‘Ask your cousin to explain,’ Miss Fairmont said.
There was a scratch at the door and suddenly two of the inn’s servants entered, bearing aloft silver-domed platters. They laid them on the table.
‘Leave the lids,’ Darius ordered when one of them made to begin serving.
He waited until the servants had left the room. No doubt they would hover outside the door to listen to the conversation between two gentlemen and a couple of actresses. It made it all the more pressing to end this affair immediately. Herbert clearly had no idea what he was getting himself into.
Beside him he noted Miss Fairmont’s slender fingers were gripped together.
‘I suppose we can get straight down to it, Miss Coop. I had hoped to handle this with some finesse, but since Miss Fairmont presses the point...’ A glare in her direction was met with an answering flash of her eyes. With effort he wrenched his attention from her to focus on the blonde actress. ‘You’re a young woman of obvious charms, Miss Coop, but if you have ideas about marrying my cousin Herbert I’m afraid I must put them to rest.’
Her big eyes instantly brimmed with tears. ‘What? Oh!’
‘I say, Darius,’ Herbert protested. ‘We’re here for a pleasant supper. Steady on.’
Darius ignored him. ‘I’m the head of the Carlyle family. My cousin will under no circumstances marry an actress.’
‘What do you have against actresses?’ Miss Fairmont demanded from his right.
He twisted to face her. ‘Must you force me to be blunt?’
Her chin tilted higher. ‘Please. Let’s not play-act.’
Darius shrugged. ‘Actresses are no more than title-hunters.’
Miss Coop gave a shriek.
‘That’s an outrageous thing to say.’ Miss Fairmont hardly raised her voice, yet the anger in it reached him. ‘Women have been on the stage since the days of King Charles the Second. How long will it take for us to be granted respect for our craft?’
‘Acting isn’t a craft,’ he said scathingly. ‘For women, it’s merely a version of the oldest profession, at which they are well versed.’
‘Men are actors, too,’ said Calista.
‘Male actors act,’ Darius conceded, with a derisive look at Mabel’s décolletage. ‘Females of the species merely display their wares.’
‘Now, Darius,’ Herbert blustered from the other end of the table. ‘That’s a bit much.’
Darius took up his glass of whisky. ‘Miss Fairmont is correct about my motivations. My desire is not to spend time in the company of actresses. It is to discover the price of avoiding such company in future. Let’s get down to business. How much money will it take to ensure you leave my cousin alone, Miss Coop?’
Now