He looked at her so intently her insides fluttered. ‘Yes, it is precisely like that. One feels good about one’s part in it.’
‘Yes.’ She quickly glanced away and spied a man crossing the park with a bundle on his shoulder. ‘And that man there is doing his part, too, isn’t he? We don’t know what it is, but without him it would not happen, would it?’
A smile flitted across his face, disappearing when he gazed into her eyes again. ‘Yes, I expect you are very right.’
Her breath quickened, like it had when he’d almost kissed her under the illuminations the night before.
‘So what, Flynn, is your King’s Theatre?’ she asked, needing to break the intensity, just as he had broken away when he almost kissed her. ‘Or have you reached it already?’
‘My King’s Theatre?’
‘What you want more than anything.’
His eyes darkened, making her insides feel like melting wax again.
The horses stopped, and his attention turned to them, signalling them to move.
‘What I want more than anything …’ he repeated as if pondering the question. ‘To be a part of something important,’ he finally replied. ‘Yes, that is it.’
She waited for more.
His brow furrowed. ‘Lord Tannerton is an excellent employer, an excellent man, Rose, but.’ His voice faded, although his face seemed lit with fire.
‘Something more important is what you are wanting?’ she guessed.
He nodded. ‘To work for government. For a diplomat, perhaps. Or the Prime Minister. Or for royalty.’
‘Royalty?’ she exclaimed.
He flicked the ribbons and shook his head. ‘It is daft.’
She put her hand on his arm. ‘It is not daft! No more daft than me wanting to sing in King’s Theatre.’ But it did seem so impossible, and somehow it made her sad. ‘It would be important, wouldn’t it? So important you’d not be seeing the likes of me.’
He covered her hand with his and leaned towards her. The horses drifted to a stop again.
‘Move on!’ an angry voice shouted.
A young man driving a phaeton approached them from behind. Flynn put the chestnuts into a trot, but the phaeton passed them as soon as the path was wide enough.
They finished their circuit of the park, not speaking much. Their silence seemed tense, holding too many unspoken words, but Rose still wished the time to go on endlessly. Soon, however, other carriages entered the park, driven by gentlemen with their ladies. The fashionable hour had arrived, and they must leave.
As Flynn turned the curricle on to her street, he was frowning again. ‘What is it, Flynn?’ she asked.
‘I have not talked to you of Tannerton,’ he said. ‘My reason for seeing you. And there is something else, Rose.’
She felt a pang at the reminder of his true purpose. ‘What is it?’ she asked in a resigned tone.
He gave her a direct look. ‘Another man will be vying for your favours. He is Lord Greythorne. He is wealthy, but some unpleasant rumour hangs about him.’
‘What rumour?’ She had no intention of bestowing her favours on whoever it was, no matter what.
‘I do not know precisely,’ he said.
She shrugged. ‘I thank you for the warning, Flynn.’
‘It is important that you not choose Greythorne.’
She did not wish to choose any man, not for money or the gifts he could give her. She wanted to tell Flynn he could tell them all to leave her alone. Let her sing. That was all she wished to do, even if he were making her imagine other possibilities.
Her father had been drumming it into her that to be a success on the London stage, she must have a wealthy patron. It seemed all anyone wanted of her—her father, Letty, the marquess, this Greythorne.
Flynn.
He was still talking. ‘Lord Tannerton would be good to you, Rose. I would stake my life on it.’
But she did not love Lord Tannerton. That was the thing.
With such a lofty man, she could never have what Miss Hart had with Mr Sloane.
She needed time. ‘I will think on it some more, Flynn.’
Langley Street was empty in front of her building. He jumped down from the curricle and held her waist as he lifted her down.
She rested her hands on his shoulders a moment longer than necessary, not wanting to say goodbye to him. Wanting to see him again. ‘I.I will be singing at Vauxhall tonight. If you’ve a mind to come.’
He stood still, but it seemed as if his eyes were searching hers. ‘I will be there.’
‘Come to the gazebo door. You’ll be admitted, I promise.’ Her spirits were soaring again. He wanted to see her. Her.
He grasped her hand and held it a brief delicious moment. ‘Tonight, then.’
Feeling joyous, Rose entered the building and climbed the stairs to her father’s rooms.
When she opened the door, Letty stood there, hands on her hips. ‘Were you with that Flynn fellow? Has he given you a meeting time with the marquess?’
She ought to have been prepared. ‘It is not set, Letty. But soon, Mr Flynn tells me.’
‘Where did you go, Mary Rose? I was wondering.’ Her father sat in the chair near the fireplace.
Rose walked over and gave him a kiss on the top of his bald head. ‘A drive in the park, is all.’ She headed for her room.
Letty blocked her way. ‘This Flynn. Did he tell you how much the marquess will pay?’
Rose looked her in the eye. ‘I thought you would be proud of me, Letty. I put him off. Did you not say that would increase the price?’
‘Well, I—’ Letty began, but Rose brushed past her to disappear into the little room that was her bedchamber.
Returning from the mews where he’d left Tanner’s curricle and horses, Flynn ran into Tanner walking back from St. James’s Street.
Tanner clapped him on the shoulder. ‘How fortuitous! You have been on my mind all the afternoon. What progress, man? Do tell.’
Flynn had nothing to tell.
‘Out with it, Flynn. What the devil happened?’
As they walked side by side, Flynn used what Rose had called his silver tongue. ‘You must trust me in this matter, my lord. The lady is not the usual sort. You were correct about diplomacy being required.’
Tanner put a hand on his arm, stopping him on the pavement. ‘Do not tell me she disliked the emerald ring!’
Flynn had forgotten it was in his pocket. ‘I did not present it to her, sir.’
‘You did not present it?’ Tanner looked surprised.
It was difficult to face him. ‘She would have refused it.’
Tanner started walking again. ‘My God, she is a strange one. What woman would refuse such a gift?’
One who bewitches, thought Flynn, but he replied, ‘She is a puzzle, I agree.’
‘You do not think she prefers Greythorne, do you?’ Tanner asked with a worried frown.
‘She was unaware of Greythorne’s interest.’
Tanner looked aghast. ‘And you told her of him?