“I appreciate your attentiveness to such concerns,” she said quietly before lowering Lady Verity to the floor.
Verity clung to her, seemingly unwilling to let her go, and Johanna did not blame her, for she was hit with a similar sensation. Seeing Felix’s daughter smiling, her green eyes dancing with merriment, lightened Johanna’s heart. After the trauma of the evening before, it was a relief as well. The little girl was so full of life, so precious. Johanna could not help but to feel a maternal pang whenever she looked upon her, a reminder of what she had lost.
“Miss McKenna, I beg of you, do not lower me or the Papa dragon will catch me!” cried Verity, still lost in the vivid world of her imagination.
Johanna wondered if this was a game Felix played often with his daughter. It certainly held an air of familiarity. Here was another side of him she had not seen. Yet another side she liked. He was a good father to Verity, a loving father. She felt, as she stood there, a dreadful interloper in their family.
She was acutely aware of the fact that she did not belong here. And indeed, that by the mere virtue of her presence, she could be putting the both of them in very real danger. She could not bear for anything else to befall either of them. She must go as soon as she was able to find other lodgings.
“Do stop attempting to climb Miss McKenna as if she is a tree, poppet,” Felix told his daughter then, though there was no bite to his words.
The fond smile on his lips made Johanna’s insides turn to liquid.
Verity dutifully released her, but the moment the girl’s feet touched the carpeted hall, she cried out, throwing an arm over her forehead in a dramatic gesture. “Oh, woe is me. I have fallen into the moat.”
She pretended to swoon then, collapsing into a heap of frilled skirts.
Johanna could not help but to laugh at the girl’s antics. Felix was no better able to contain his mirth. His deep, husky laughter rang through the hall again, and she could not stay the wave of warmth it sent crashing over her this time.
He had a beautiful laugh.
But of course he did. Everything about the Duke of Winchelsea was gorgeous and elegant and far too perfect. He was not of her world.
“It would seem you are not the only one beneath this roof with a flair for drama, Miss McKenna,” he observed, his gaze locked with hers once more.
His words reminded her, quite belatedly, that she had missed her rehearsals for today. And not only that, but depending upon the time, she would likely miss the entire evening’s play altogether. Dread struck her.
“I must get to the Crown and Thorn immediately,” she said. “In all the commotion, I have completely forgotten to attend rehearsals. Mr. Saville will be very displeased with me, and I cannot blame him. Do you have the time, Your Grace?”
“Do not worry about the time,” Felix said, his laughter gone now.
She mourned the loss. He looked like a man who needed more lightheartedness in his life. She did not have the time to worry over it, however, because she was going to be late forThe Tempest.
“But I must,” she argued. “I need to hire a hack to take me to the Crown and Thorn at once.”
“I sent a note ’round to Mr. Saville on your behalf earlier today,” he told her, surprising her. “I informed him you would not be attending the theater at all today.”
“But I cannot miss a performance,” she argued. “I have never, in all my years as an actress, missed a show.”
“You are going to miss this one,” he said, his tone grim. “You cannot believe after what you have told me that I will send you off to the theater on your own this evening.”
And there he was, taking care of her again. Fretting over her once more.
She must not allow it.
She frowned. “The choice is not yours to make, Your Grace. I have a contract with Mr. Saville, and I am obligated to perform, regardless of the circumstances.”
“Help me,” Verity called from the floor then, interrupting the sudden tenseness of the moment. “Someone rescue me from the moat, oh please!”
Jolted from the heaviness of her thoughts, Johanna bent without thinking and scooped the girl into her arms once more. It was not until she stood to find Felix’s gaze pinned to her that she realized she was taking liberties that were not hers to take.
“Forgive me, fair maiden,” she said, reverting to what she did best—playing a role. “I fear I must flee, for another quest awaits me. I have to surrender you to the Papa dragon after all.”
With that, she shifted Verity in her arms so that Felix could take his daughter from her. He did, though the girl attempted to cling to Johanna’s neck.
“Do not go, Miss McKenna,” she begged, pouting from her father’s arms. “I was having such fun. Papa has never played princess and dragon with me before.”
There was the answer to her question, then. Just as she had supposed, Felix did not have much room for levity or lightheartedness in his life. What, she wondered, had changed? What had made this fearsome, staid duke come undone enough to laugh with his daughter? To pretend to be a dragon?
