“I’ll come,” replied another. The two women took after the shepherd. William Millroy started moving in that direction as well.
In minutes, most of the company dispersed to go their own ways. Sarah stood as if planted to the ground. She did not want to leave.
Irene was still there. “I’ve known Geoff and Charles since they first came to town,” Sarah said to her. “I would not have thought it possible for them to do this. They were going to use the money from last night to keep their theater open.”
“That is what they told us. Now, we know the truth. You knew they were deeply in debt?”
“They had expensive tastes, but they always paid their actors.”
“And apparently no one else. I’ve been here since half past nine and we aren’t the only ones upset. Their tailor, their butcher, everyone has been here with a hand out.”
“I just can’t believe this of them.” Sarah shook her head. “They promised to stage my play.”
“Your play? Ah, now I know who you are.”
“You do?” Sarah replied cautiously.
“You are the one Colman relied on over at the Haymarket.”
Sarah nodded mutely, too stunned by the turn of events to speak and thankful Irene didn’t call her out as the Siren.
“He misses you. Everyone knows that,” Irene said. At Sarah’s continued silence, she offered, “He would probably take you back.”
“At what cost?” Sarah wondered sadly.
“I don’t know,” Irene said.
“He’d gloat. He’d tell me I needed him.”
“Aye, he would. But, listen,” Irene said, taking a step closer to Sarah. “You might need him. You have a more pressing problem on your hands.”
“More pressing than Geoff and Charles playing me for a fool?” Sarah could have scoffed at the idea.
“Yes,” Irene answered and knelt down to pick up a handbill on the ground. There were a number of them blowing around. “Read this.”
Reluctantly, Sarah looked at the paper and then felt her stomach drop in horror. “Ten pounds for information leading to the actress known as the Siren?” she read aloud. “Contact Lord Rovington.” There was an address to submit information. She looked at Irene. “What is this? A price on the Siren’s head?”
“Do you know Rovington?”
“I’ve heard stories.”
“If they are bad ones, then believe them. He is a bastard through and through. Likes actresses, he does. He’s ruined many a girl without a moment’s remorse. Thinks himself some grand lover. He is not a gentleman. Worse, few want his leavings and perhaps with good cause.”
Sarah frowned, uncertain of what Irene meant and yet, there was no doubt it meant ill for her.
Irene tapped the handbill. “They say he’s placed wagers all over the city that he will bed the Siren. He was the one whom you kneed last night.”
At Sarah’s start of alarm, Irene said, “Yes, I knew it was you. I remembered you from your performance years ago. I was in the first show as well. However, thanks to Rovington pulling off your wig, anyone around the theater, including that crowd that was just here now, knows who you are. Your hair color is unforgettable.”
“This is ridiculous,” Sarah said, holding up the handbill. “I do not know this man.”
“You don’t have to. I told you, Rovington is a dog. If it moves, he pokes it and he has decided to poke you. You’d best beware. Millroy was telling us that since last night’s scene, the wagers have gone up.”
“Millroy knew about this?”
“All the men did. Rovington is a braggart and half of that audience was there to have a look at you and see if he’d win.”
“Why, that is immoral.”
