He unlocked the door with a key from his jacket and ushered her inside. A handsome pillared hallway led into a square salon with plenty of gilt scrollwork.
Arden pointed to their left. “That staircase leads directly up to the private boxes, so the lucky few don’t have to mingle with the general rabble.”
“Do you have your own box?”
“No. I could have one, as a shareholder, but I prefer to be down in the stalls. That’s where all the action is.”
And all the harlots, Lucy added silently.
The sound of voices and general activity grew louder as they moved further into the building, and she smiled as they entered the auditorium itself. The stage at the front was framed by an impressive proscenium arch and flanked on each side by four tiers of private boxes, each with its own sparkling glass chandelier.
A sunken orchestra pit was positioned directly in front of the stage, next to where the cheapest spectators sat. Behind that rose rows of red velvet seating, sloping toward the stage, while three tiers of long, curved balconies soared up to the ceiling. The red, cream, and gold color scheme was both sumptuous and welcoming, and Lucy inhaled the pleasing scents of fresh paint and sawdust with a happy sigh. She’d missed the theater when she was on her travels. Performing plays with her sisters was hardly a decent substitute.
The stage was a hive of activity. A red-haired female carpenter was directing two men to reposition the sliding scenery of a castle, while a young painter perched precariously atop some wooden scaffolding to decorate a fabric backdrop.
“This is actually the fourth theater that’s been built on this site,” Arden said softly at her side. “The last three all burned down.”
Lucy frowned. “My goodness! I hope you’re taking care when it comes to naked flames.”
“We are. I certainly don’t want to see my investment going up in smoke. The chandeliers are currently lit by candles, which is not only time-consuming, but also has the unfortunate side-effect of dripping hot wax onto the people below. The other lights are oil, but we’re trying to raise enough to install new gas lighting, both for the house lights and the stage.”
“Gas? That doesn’t sound much safer than candles. Isn’t there a risk of an explosion?”
“There is, but it’s small when managed correctly. We intend to take considerable care to avoid that scenario.”
On stage, a gorgeous, statuesque blonde woman was arguing with a portly gentleman, while another man appeared to be trying to diffuse the situation.
“That’s Sarah Beckwith, our leading lady,” Arden explained. “She’s playing Lady Drusilla. The man she’s arguing with is Thomas Cotton, her leading man, who’s the Earl of Pudding.”
“What play are they rehearsing?”
“It’s a new comedy called ‘The Lady Of The Scullery.’ It’s a ridiculous farce about a duke’s daughter who disguises herself as a maid in an earl’s household.” Arden’s tone was dry. “They fall in love, of course, after the requisite number of complications and misunderstandings.”
A shriek of irritation emanated from the blonde, and Arden shook his head. “The two of them are going to have to use all their acting skills to pretend to fall in love by the end of the third act. They’ve been bickering for weeks.”
He pointed to the harried-looking gentleman standing alongside them. “Poor Holland has been driven to distraction. He’s the Stage Manager.”
“Maybe people will come just to see if Mrs. Beckwith can endure kissing Mr. Cotton every night. Perhaps she’ll crack and punch him in the face instead.”
Arden grinned. “One can only hope. Scandals like that are box office gold. And the theater needs every penny it can get to stay open when there’s so much competition.”
“All the more reason to encourage your Phantom, then,” Lucy said. “If he’s filling seats, you should be happy for him to keep haunting the place. Provided he isn’t hurting anyone. He isn’t, is he?”
“No. He’s never done anything threatening or dangerous. I’d never have suggested you try to unmask him if that was the case. I’d never put you in harm’s way.”
Lucy snorted. “Ha! You spentyearswhen we were younger putting me in harm’s way, Arden. What about the time my horse lost a shoe and you refused to give me a lift back home, and I had to walk three miles in the mud? Or the time I cut my finger and you told me to squeezelemon juiceon it to stop the sting?”
Or the time you kissed me, and broke my heart?
She didn’t saythatout loud.
Arden’s grin was unrepentant. “Disgraceful behavior, I admit. But I was young and foolish. Please allow that being in harm’s way myself for several years has changed my perspective considerably.”
Lucy stilled, surprised. She hadn’t expected him to discuss his wartime experiences, but the scar on his face was a clear indication that he’d known suffering of his own. Had he really changed so much?
He spoke again before she could ask.
“I’d never do such things to a lady now. Not evenyou, Montgomery.”
