Thus, his hands came together with just as much enthusiasm as the rest of the crowd and when the cast returned for a final bow, several flowers were tossed on stage to celebrate the moment.
He saw the brilliant flash of white on Aislynn’s face, but while it might not be readily apparent to the rest of the audience, Cordell noticed the lines of strain around the edge of her mouth and the happiness that was reflected on her face but did not fully reach her dulled eyes.
His jaw clenched because he knew that this evening must have been terribly difficult for her, yet what other choice did she have but to cater to the needs of the guests seated in this very auditorium?
Cordell told himself that it wasn’t his business to get involved, but when he turned to go, he overheard a gentleman’s conversation and he knew he couldn’t ignore such a slight in all good conscience. “I intend to offer Miss Sims the honor of being my new mistress.”
“Let us hope she is sensible enough to thank her good fortune that you have selected her for the position. Just remember not to keep her all to yourself. I enjoy playing with your castoffs but I might make an exception for this particular talented actress. It might be good bed sport with her between us in the sheets.”
A chortle was the only reply as the voices faded, but not because they moved away. It had more to do with Cordell’s desire to blot out their torrid conversation. He might be a libertine as well, but he knew what was an inappropriate way to treat a lady. She might not be highborn, but she deserved the same respect. It was that marked difference in how women were treated in upper and lower classes that annoyed him most of all. More than once, at Mary’s establishment, he'd been forced to intervene when one of the patrons had too much to drink and decided that he paid for more than sex with one of the girls, that he had the right to treat her in any manner he chose. Cordell had stopped a flying arm from striking out while allowing his to offer an alternative before they were tossed out into the street on their despicable arse.
He saw the two men disappear backstage along one side of the curtain while he headed along another. The moment he stepped beyond the crowd, he realized that this was where the real work began. Set pieces were being rearranged and lighting and ropes were being adjusted. Orders were being tossed back and forth from the crew while the performers rushed back to their rooms to remove the remnants of the evening.
He was almost upon Miss Sims' room when he was nearly run over by a familiar brunette. She was the one who had been sitting with the famed actress the night before, although he hadn’t been able to tell at the time who might have been consoling who. “Oh! Pardon me, sir—” Her eyes instantly widened when she recognized him. “Mr. Steele!”
“Good evening.” He glanced toward his target, but the door was still slightly open, and all he could hear was the sound of murmured voices from within. Nothing to alarm him as yet.
“I told Aislynn that you were here tonight.”
He lifted a brow. “Did you? I am sure she was thoroughly impressed.”
“Not particularly.”
He had the urge to smile, because she obviously didn’t catch the sarcasm he’d attempted to portray into his statement. Very poorly, it would seem.
“I am a huge admirer.”
“Of murderers?” he countered dryly.
She appeared affronted. “Of course not. I meant your expertise.”
He smiled tightly. He had never been very adept at accepting praise when he felt as though he continued to fail at every turn. Not only would another murder take place, but he had yet to find out why his father had acted so rashly. “I have yet to discover who was responsible for Miss Adams’ demise, so it seems I have not uncovered as much as I might want.”
“I have no doubt you will, given enough time.”
Cordell thought he heard the elevated voice of Miss Sims. “Perhaps. If you will excuse me?”
He didn’t wait for a reply as he opened the door to Miss Sims' dressing room. Inside he found the two scoundrels had circled around Miss Sims chair like a pair of vultures closing in on their prey. However, it didn’t take him long to discern that the victims in this instance were the predators. She held a small dagger at the center of one man’s crotch. His face had leeched of all color as she said, “I said that I am not interested in your proposal. Now, please leave this room before I change your sex permanently.”
Cordell wanted to applaud her actions. They were nearly as impressive as her efforts on stage.
He stepped to the side as she removed her dagger, and the man adjusted his jacket cuffs and breezed by in a huff, his cohort following close behind. After they were gone, he looked at Miss Sims, who acknowledged his presence before she turned back around to face the mirror. “What can I help you with, Mr. Steele?”
Rather than act as though he was rushing to her rescue and appear the fool he now saw himself as, he gave a slight bow and said, “I merely wanted to offer my congratulations for a job well done. Considering your current state of mind, it must not have been an easy thing to do.”
Her eyes narrowed in the reflection. “What do you know of my mind?”
“I could see the lines of strain about your mouth. You might be able to pull the wool over the eyes of most of London, but you forget my particular area of expertise. I am inclined to notice things that might escape the notice of others.”
“I see.” Shutters immediately fell over her gaze as she averted her eyes. It was a self-defensive tactic as visible as the knife she’d wielded earlier.
“I did not mean any disrespect for my observation.”
“I understand that, Mr. Steele. However, I am curious about something else.” She rose and turned to face him directly, and he could imagine the armor being pulled tightly around her. “Why would you send someone to watch over me? Is it not obvious I am capable of taking care of myself?”
He lifted a brow. “Very observant of you, Miss Sims.”
She gave a light snort. “And here I thought you might have tried to deny it.”
