“Papa was at the pub one night and overheard a stonemason telling the same story. They soon learned this lord had been playing this same swindle on men from various professions throughout the countryside. But they also knew there was nothing they could do about it.”
“Why is that?”
She tossed him a bitter smile. “Because lords are untouchable,my lord.”
Archie felt the sting of her barb. But what stung most was that she wasn’t wrong. Still, he had a question. “How does that add up to you singing at the Five Graces?”
“I had to do something.”
“I can’t imagine that would afford you enough money to save your father from debtor’s prison.”
“The Five Graces was only the first part of my plan.”
Her mouth clamped shut. It was clear she wasn’t going to tell him the rest right now. No matter. They could get to that later.
For now, he had another question. “What is this lord’s name?”
“Lord Nestor.”
Reflexively, Archie’s jaw tensed.
Miss Hart’s gaze narrowed on him. “You know this lord?”
“I have that particular misfortune.”
“Let me guess. You’ve been friends since childhood.”
“Friendswould be overstating the relationship.”
“You don’t like him.”
“I don’t.” That was putting it mildly. It was almost too much information at once, and he realized they both needed a rest. “Can I drop you home?”
“Home is several miles north, Hampstead village.” She shifted on her feet. “Mr. Degrass allowed me a cot backstage at the Five Graces.”
That made up Archie’s mind. “You’re coming with me.”
She canted her head. “Is life always like this with you?”
“Like what?”
“A complete whirlwind.”
Archie didn’t even have to think. “Yes.”
He left her standing on the cobblestone sidewalk, mouth slightly agape, as he stepped to the street and flagged down ahackney with a short, sharp whistle. Soon after, they’d settled onto opposite benches in the conveyance, her eyes fluttered shut and she drifted off to sleep, giving him room for thought.
Was he taking this matter too far?
Possibly.
But didn’t he take everything too far? Wasn’t he known for it?
This woman—Miss Valentina Hart—she was the first breath of inspiration he’d experienced in months. He mustn’t let his muse slip away. But…
How far would he go for inspiration?
That wasn’t the correct question.
