Fiona sighed.“I couldn’t let fear of what might be rule me.I was seeing black carriages lurking at every corner these past few days, and after that...”
“After what?”he asked with a frown when she cut off, biting her lip.“What?Was there something else?Something you haven’t told me?”
She shook her head.“Pax, Harry, I came straight to Belgrave Square seeking your escort,” she steered away from his questions.“The pair of streets in between were but a test of my nerve.”
Yes, Aylesbury thought.She had plenty of that.Nevertheless, an abundance of pluck wouldn’t provide the arsenal of defense she would need if she were attacked again.“An escort where?”
“To the Empire Theatre,” she told him.“Mr.Brit Acres is showing his first cinematograph of the Oxford and Cambridge Boat Race at the Empire this afternoon.”
“Really?”he asked instead, intrigued despite himself.“How brilliant.Even so, you should have sent a message.I would have come to take you up.”
“I just found out about it.One of the household staff had a handbill,” she explained.“I wanted to see it, and no one was about, but I thought you might enjoy it too.Will you join me?Or shall I go alone?”
Every time he thought he couldn’t be more confounded by her, she continued to surprise him.Go alone?Though located in Leicester Square east of Piccadilly and near the eminently respectable National Gallery, members of all classes seeking amusement frequented the popular theater district, and the businesses in the area reflected that.It was not the best of neighborhoods for an unaccompanied woman, and Fiona likely knew that.
“And if I don’t care to join you?”
“I thought I might walk up to the Marble Arch to catch the omnibus.”
“The Marb–” The station was almost a mile away, and she could easily be taken anywhere along the line.Gone before she had a chance to pass a whimper.The horror he felt at the thought was sickening.He wouldn’t, couldn’t let her go alone, and likely she knew it.“I ought to hog-tie you and send you back to Eaton Square.”
“But you won’t.”
Aylesbury ran a hand through his hair, counting slowly until his redoubled frustration eased a fraction.“No, I won’t.”
“Because you want to see it, too.”
Damn it all, he did.
Opening the door, he called for his carriage and left instructions for a message to be taken to Eaton Street letting Glenrothes know where she was and that he would have her home before supper.
“Don’t think this means anything,” he warned her as he handed her up into his carriage minutes later.“I still think this might be the most thoughtless thing you’ve ever done.”
* * *
“Incredible,” he whisperedagain in awe as the flickering image of the boats being rowed down the Thames moved across the white curtain hung across the front of the theater.
He had framed photographs around his home, of course.Older daguerreotypes of his parents and dozens more recent vignettes of his family, his sister, and even his childhood hound.However, Aylesbury never imagined they could be strung together to express such movement as this cinematograph.“Incredible.”
“You said that,” Fiona whispered teasingly by his side, though her eyes were also glued to the captivating motion of the men pulling the oars through the water.
“It bears repeating.”
“Yes, it does.”She laughed aloud when the wake trailing behind the boats lapped against the edge of the moving image, drawing shocked cries and exclamations from the viewers in the front row as if they expected to get wet.
She turned to look at him as he joined her in laughter, her eyes dancing with pure enjoyment for the spectacle.
“Thank you for letting me come along,” he whispered, squeezing her hand affectionately.
“Thank you for coming.”
“Not that you left me any choice.”
Though her mouth opened to apologize for not asking him to straightaway, nothing emerged as her eyes slid over his shoulder and widened.Quickly, she turned back to the screen, but her shoulders had tensed, and her smile fled.
“What is it?”
She chewed her lip nervously.She was as rattled as Aylesbury had ever seen her.For what reason?“Fiona?”
