“Very well, Beecham. You have done what you deem is right, and I will do the same,” Harriet said defiantly.
“I think I must ask that you do not leave your room until we are ready to leave for Oaksgrove,” the butler continued.
“Very well. I shall be ready to leave then.”
Harriet closed the door and put her back to it.
I shall be ready to leave, indeed, but it will be to go to the Royal Theater, Drury Lane. Most certainly not Oaksgrove.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Jeremy laughed aloud as he saw Harriet approaching along Drury Lane. He strode to meet her and was greeted with an insolent grin and a pose with hand on hip that warned him not to challenge her. Her eyes shone with mirth and with the promise of fierceness.
“Have you decided to take up a trade, Lady Harriet?” he inquired with a polite tone.
“Beecham took up a post outside my room at the Imperial, having written to Ralph in Paris to inform him of my...disobedience,” she sighed with a roll of her eyes. “Therefore, I persuaded a maid to lend me her spare uniform so that I could slip past him. You promised to reimburse her, by the way.”
Jeremy chuckled. Harriet indeed wore a simple, dark dress with white lace at the neck and the cuffs of her sleeves. The very image of a well-presented maid.
“So, our time together is laid out for us. How long does a letter take to reach Paris?” she asked.
“In summer with calm seas… I should say a week,” he concluded after a ponder.
“And assuming Ralph sets off as soon as he reads it, intent on locking me away forever, he could be here in...?”
“A day or two after.”
“Enough time to attend the Winchesters' invitation and secure your Opera House,” she said with a thoughtful nod.
“Just about.”
She sighed and then smiled brightly. “Then I intend to make this week count and experience as much of it as I may. Ralph will be unbearable when he returns.”
Jeremy frowned. “I will speak to him. It is unfair that you should suffer on my account.”
She waved a dismissive hand. “It is what it is. I would not be the cause of ending a long-standing friendship such as yours. Better to enjoy myself while I may. Now—shall we go in? I have never actually seen a play before, if you can believe it.”
“Icanbelieve it,” he said with a crooked smile. “But God no, not dressed like that. The Winchesters will be present; they never miss an opening night. They would make a spectacle of you before the curtain even rises. No, we must find you something more fitting.”
Harriet spread her arms helplessly. “My clothes are at the Imperial, and I do not intend to be cornered in a modiste's shop by you again.”
The innuendo in her voice caught him off guard, and his grin deepened. “Then I have another idea. How would you like to meet a few of the actors?”
Without waiting for a reply, he seized her by the hand and led her at a brisk trot away from the theater, turning a corner and along a narrow alleyway that separated it from the next building over. A door halfway along the alley was markedStage Door. Jeremy rapped on it, and it was opened by a skinny man with a pipe clenched in his teeth and a cap on his head. A look of shrewd suspicion melted into a grin as he recognized Jeremy.
“Your Grace! Welcome back, good sir. Been a while since we've had the pleasure!”
“It has indeed, Phillips,” Jeremy grinned boyishly. “I think that our favorite Miss Haverford would have skinned me alive had I tried to show my face. She… is not performing tonight, I take?”
“Left the company, sir. Gone to join Master Kinch's group at the Old Vic.” He leaned in closer then, “So between us, you're safe, sir.”
He moved aside to allow the pair entry into the building. Jeremy led Harriet through a warren of narrow corridors, up and down rickety wooden stairs. In the distance, somewhere in the building, Harriet could hear the murmuring babble of a large number of people, and quickly realized they were moving around somewhere behind the stage.
“Miss Haverford?” she whispered.
“An old friend that I rather offended,” he grimaced.
“Do I wish to know?” she asked dryly.
