“Northfield,” Toby said, raising both eyebrows.
Melinda spun on her, her pretty face lit up with nothing short of glee. “The Duke of Northfield, Lydia, my goodness! You know who he is, don’t you?” She didn’t wait for the answer before she continued, “He’s devilishly handsome for one, and young.Andrich. He was engaged to some chit and his best friend stole the woman right out from under him. Since then he’s been locked away.”
Lydia swallowed hard. She knewallthose things. Though from very different sources than Melinda had heard them. “Where do you get these rumors?” she asked, forcing a laugh past her dry throat.
Melinda grinned. “I, unlike you, care about Society, Lydia. A woman in my position ought to. There are many paths one can take to financial security.”
Toby snorted and Lydia paced away as the two began the same argument they had at least once a week about actresses who became mistresses. Despite her aversion to Sir Archibald, Melinda wasn’t opposed to becoming an important man’s lover. She was always encouraging Lydia to consider the same option.
But Melinda only did that because she didn’t know the truth. The truth that Lydia protected jealously and went to great lengths to hide. But now that the Duke of Northfield desired to meet Lydia all her work seemed poised on the edge of a precipice. He could destroy not only this world, but the other one she inhabited on a regular basis because if he was in a room with her he mightseeher. It was one thing to see her on stage, from far away, with bright lights making her seem like something she wasn’t.
But closer up, Northfield might see the secret she struggled to keep every time she left the stage.
That secret was that she wasnotLydia Ford. Lydia Ford had no address, no family, no past and no future. Lydia Ford did not exist. She hadneverexisted, not for more than a few hours a week at the theatre. She had been made up of whole cloth, a necessity to allow her to do what she liked without fear of recrimination for the real her.
Therealher. She shut her eyes. Oh, the real her was someone wildly different than the confident, popular actress seen on stage. A woman no one noticed, not even enough to realize she snuck out three times a week to become the city’s most celebrated performer.
That person was Lady Adelaide, the wallflower daughter of the long-dead Earl of Longford.
“Are you well?” Melinda asked, cocking her head.
Adelaide jumped. She was slipping if her friend could see her worry. She brightened her smile. “Of course.”
“So are you going to meet him?” Toby pressed.
Adelaide stared down at the hands she’d clenched before herself. They shook. How could she get out of this? “I’m not certain it’s wise. Why not let him meet Melinda?”
Toby shook his head immediately and his frown deepened. “He was clear about what he wanted and he doesn’t seem the kind of man one refuses. He wants to meetyou, Lydia, and that’s all that will satisfy him. I’m not certain he wouldn’t just barge in here if I told him no.”
Adelaide sighed. Of course, Toby was probably right. She’d been in Society all her life, she’d known many a man of power and privilege. And she’d had plenty of time to observe Northfield, as well, for he was hard to ignore. In a room full of men who were average, he was…not. Perhaps it was his piercing blue eyes or the hard edge to his expression or that he rarely danced, even with the lady who had once been his fiancé.
Whatever it was, Toby was correct in his assessment that Northfieldwasn’tthe kind who took no for an answer.
She looked at herself in the mirror. She had changed into a plain gown, but she had not yet removed her stage makeup, and her hair was down. She still looked like Lydia rather than plain, mousy Adelaide. Perhaps Northfield wouldn’t recognize her.
It wasn’t as if he ever talked to her in Society anyway. There,shewas a gnat andhewas a god.
“It’s a good thing I still look presentable,” she said with a sigh. “Yes, of course, allow him to come in.”
Toby left to fetch the man and Melinda jumped up. “Oh, Lydia! What a night. Just think, you could advance your fortunes with just a few well-placed words.”
Adelaide pursed her lips. “I’m perfectly content with my fortunes as they are, Melinda,” she said. “I’m not trying to advance myself.”
Melinda stared at her like she’d spoken Latin or grown a second head. “Not advance yourself?”
Adelaide laughed at her friend’s confusion. “Gracious, Melinda, did it never occur to you that perhaps I just like walking the boards? That I’m not trying to do anything but enjoy the time I have to do so?”
“Well, to each his own.” Melinda shook her head. “But I still say if you don’t try to at least flirt with the man, you’re wasting your time and a golden opportunity.”
Adelaide sighed. “How about this? The moment he realizes I’m nothing but a boring mouse, I’ll send him to you.”
“Oh, do!” Melinda said on a laugh as there was a second knock on the door. This time it was harder, more confident, and Adelaide’s heart sank. It washim.
Melinda shot her a final look and then opened the door, revealing the Duke of Northfield. And as she stared at him, trying not to reveal too much, trying not to fall over from nervousness, Adelaide’s heart all but stopped.
Chapter Two
Adelaide stared as the Duke of Northfield ducked beneath the low doorframe and stepped into her dressing room. Suddenly the chamber felt tiny because he filled the space so completely. He was…beautiful. That was the only way to describe a man as put together as the one who stood before her. A tall, broad-shouldered Adonis with blond hair that was pulled back in a queue because it was too long for current fashion, a scruffy slash of facial hair across a well-defined jaw, and blue eyes that were the color of a cloudless sky.
