The question, introduced as a way of diverting Lily’s attention, launched the girl into a blushing recital of the young man’s attributes, allowing Catherine—who wasn’t expected to answer—to close her eyes and let the sound of the girl’s voice drift around her. She didn’t mind that Lily enjoyed the occasional night out. The girl had a good head on her shoulders and knew better than to let any man take advantage of her. Still, it was difficult at times not to feel a little envious of her dresser’s amorous adventures.
What wouldn’t she have given, Catherine mused, to be able to flirt with a gentleman without fear of reprisal? To have the freedom to spend an evening in his company and not have to worry about who might be watching. To indulge in a few hours of harmless pleasure for a change.
But such choices were no longer hers to make. The errors of her past dictated the path of her future, and the price for straying from that path was too high. She had already sacrificed more than any woman should have to...
‘I mended the tear in your rose-coloured silk,’ Lily said now. ‘And I added a new piece of lace around the neckline. But I don’t know why you would want to wear that gown tonight when your turquoise satin is far more fashionable.’
‘Yes, but it is also a great deal more revealing and, given that I shall be performing in front of the Marquess of Alderbury’s entire family, I think it best I appear in something a little more conservative,’ Catherine said. Plunging necklines and diaphanous gowns were all very well for her performances on stage, but for private concerts like the one she was giving tonight, she preferred a more modest appearance. One never knew who might be watching.
She glanced at her rose again and stroked the petals with a lingering caress. Who was he, this mystery man who bestowed such exquisite flowers yet refused to show his face? Someone who had no desire to reveal his identity—or someone who dared not?
‘Are you sure you’re up to singing at Lady Mary’s reception tonight, miss?’ Lily asked. ‘You’ve already been on stage the best part of four hours, and Mr Templeton’s scheduled an early rehearsal for the morning. You should be home resting.’
‘I will have plenty of time to rest when I get back from my trip,’ Catherine said, slipping the rose into the vase with the others. ‘Besides, I have only been asked to sing six songs. Hardly an arduous task.’
‘I might agree if you hadn’t performed twice that many in the last four hours,’ Lily said, pinning the last of Catherine’s golden curls into place. ‘Still, I suppose you know best. Is it to be the pearls or the rubies tonight?’
‘The pearls, I think. They look better with the gown.’
‘Either work nicely.’ Lily unlocked the jewellery box. ‘Both make you look like a lady.’
Yes, Catherine reflected, just as jewels and costumes had made her look the part of a siren, a goddess, a street waif and a witch. All roles cast by the charismatic theatre owner, Theodore Templeton, and for which she had achieved a level of fame unimaginable five years ago, when she had left Miss Marsh’s house in Cheltenham with few hopes and even less money. Now she had the wherewithal to afford a house in a decent part of town, the staff to maintain it and the clothes necessary to play the part. She might not be as well known as the illustrious Mrs Siddons, but many favourable comparisons had been made in terms of their acting abilities.
But it was her voice that had catapulted Catherine to the forefront of the industry, her incredible four-octave range making her one of the most talked-about performers of the day. She had even been invited to sing before one of the royal dukes on his birthday.
Sometimes it was hard to remember she had been born the only daughter of a governess and a schoolmaster, so far had she risen from those humble beginnings.
‘Here’s your shawl, miss,’ Lily said, draping a lightweight silk wrap around Catherine’s shoulders. ‘I’ll just get my things and we can be off.’
‘We?’ Catherine glanced at her dresser in confusion. ‘It isn’t your job to accompany me to private engagements, Lily.’
‘I know, but you had to send poor Mrs Rankin home early, and I know she doesn’t approve of you going out on your own,’ Lily said, referring to the widow who had been Catherine’s companion since her arrival in London. ‘So I thought I would go myself.’
‘But you told me you were seeing Mr Hawkins this evening.’
‘I was, until Mrs Rankin fell ill. Then I told him I wasn’t available.’
‘Well, go and find him and tell him you are available,’ Catherine said, slipping the strap of her fan over her wrist. ‘I doubt he will have left the theatre yet. He’s likely still helping Mr Templeton take the sets down.’
‘But what if that man Stubbs sees you gallivanting around Mayfair without a chaperon?’ Lily persisted. ‘Mrs Rankin told me he makes notes of everything you do and everyone you see.’
‘I will hardly be gallivanting and so I shall tell Mr Stubbs if and when I see him,’ Catherine said, surprised the normally tight-lipped Mrs Rankin had been so forthcoming with information. ‘Lord Alderbury is sending a private carriage to collect me, and at the end of the evening, I shall take a hackney home. Now go and find your young man.’
Lily did not look convinced. ‘I don’t think Mrs Rankin is going to be very pleased about this, miss.’
‘Don’t worry, Lily, everything will be fine. I shall go to Lord Alderbury’s house, sing for his guests and then leave,’ Catherine said confidently. ‘You’ll see. There won’t be any trouble at all.’
* * *
‘Are you going to read me a story tonight, Uncle Val?’ the little boy asked. ‘I’m really not very sleepy.’
‘You never are, even when you don’t have a fever,’ Valbourg said, stowing the last of his nephew’s toys in the large wooden box. ‘I would be quite worn out if I did all you do in a day.’
‘Is that because you’re old?’
‘I beg your pardon?’ Valbourg straightened. ‘Who told you I was old?’
‘Aunt Dorothy. Right before she told Grandfather it was time you were married.’ Sebastian gazed up at his uncle with wide, trusting eyes. ‘Are you getting married, Uncle Val?’
‘I wasn’t planning on it, no.’
‘It would be all right if you did. I mean, as long as you didn’t send me away.’
‘Send you away? Why on earth would I do that?’ Valbourg asked, sitting down on the edge of Sebastian’s bed. ‘This is your home now and has been for the past two years.’
‘I know, but Aunt Dorothy said the lady you marry might not want me to stay here any more,’ the boy whispered, his flushed face evidence of the fever that had only recently broken. ‘She said she might prefer to have her own children around her rather than someone else’s.’
Anger swelled like a balloon in Valbourg’s chest. Damn Dorothy! Why couldn’t she mind her own business? She should have known better than to say something so hurtful in front of an impressionable young boy. ‘I am not going to send you away, and you mustn’t listen to anything Aunt Dorothy says. I shall marry when I am good and ready and not a moment before. So let’s have no more talk about you leaving, understood?’
‘Understood,’ Sebastian said, relief chasing the shadows from his eyes. ‘I’m not getting married either. I think girls are silly,’ he proclaimed with all the certainty of a six-year-old. ‘Don’t you?’
‘They certainly can be.’
‘Uncle Hugh doesn’t think so. He said I’ll come to like girls very much when I am his age, because he started liking them very much when he was mine.’
Valbourg sighed, wondering if there was any member of his family