Time before a show always seemed to travel slow and fast, all at once. Sarah had spent the afternoon fearing the moment the curtain would be drawn and impatient for it as well.
She went to wardrobe to put on her costume. Elsie, the wardrobe mistress, helped her dress. When they were done, Elsie, in the most casual manner possible, said, “I haven’t seen Thom.”
“He should have been here an hour ago.” Cursing the lead actor under her breath, Sarah went in search of him. It was quite possible he was busy having a flirt with the actresses or mingling with the audience.
“Rawlins just arrived,” Billie, the watchman at the back door, said. “He asked after you.”
“I pray he is changing into his costume,” she muttered. She charged off in the direction of the dressing room and there she did find Thom, but he wasn’t in costume.
Instead, he was talking to the gathered members of the company who listened intently. This was a strange scene to Sarah with only fifteen minutes to the performance. The actors were so absorbed with what Thom was saying, they didn’t notice her at first.
Something was happening here and she was not certain what.
Then someone caught sight of her in the door and nudged another and soon Thom realized he was losing his audience. He turned and faced Sarah.
“Why aren’t you in costume?” she asked.
He swallowed. “I will not go on, and before you become angry, you need to listen to me. We should cancel the performance.”
“I will not. We have a curtain in fifteen minutes.”
“Sarah, someone is determined to sabotage your play.”
“What?”
“That is right. I have been warned by a person I trust that there will be men here tonight who wish to ruin you. They are intent on ridiculing you and destroying your play. They have cabbage heads and rotten apples to throw at any of us who step on stage. They plan on making an example of you for what you are doing.”
“And who would do such a thing? Colman and the other theater managers?” She knew they were critical and did not wish her well, but to be violent? Actors did not toss things at other actors on the stage. It was just not done.
“The name I was given was Rovington. A man called Rovington is said to have hired men to embarrass you. He is determined to shut your play down. I’m sorry, Sarah, I won’t go on. I’ve been in front of a crowd like that before. A man can be seriously injured and if I can’t work, then what happens to me? It does nothing for my reputation in the theater. My advice is to delay the opening—”
“Is that what you are being paid to say?” Sarah accused, stepping forward. The mention of Lord Rovington did shake her, but she could not afford to let Thom frighten the other actors. She had a full house. It would be a nightmare to account for all and return money.
“Paid?” Thom blustered as if offended but, as was so often the case in his acting on stage, his response was not truly convincing.
“Yes, paid,” she snapped. “Was this part of a plot from the beginning or did someone approach you recently, about the time you started showing up late for rehearsals?” She didn’t wait for an answer. She suddenly knew the truth. Thom had been planted in their midst to disrupt her play. “Go. Leave. We don’t need you.”
“Sarah, trust me, you do not want to go out there. If you show your face—”
“I said leave.” If she’d had a stick in her hand, she would have chased him with it. Thom appeared affronted, and then dashed out the door like the coward he was.
She turned and addressed the other actors. “I know Lord Rovington. He is a scoundrel, a man without honor. It is also possible that he would do what he could to upset this night, but we won’t let him.”
She spoke as a general rallying the troops because that is what the cast needed. No actor wanted to play before a hostile crowd. “We also don’t know if anything Thom said is true. It actually sounds quite fantastic,” she continued—and then seeing Lady Baldwin by the door where she had apparently been listening, drew her friend into the conversation. “Does it not, my lady?”
Lady Baldwin did not sound terribly confident as she chimed in loyally, “The seats are filled. Everyone is expecting a good evening.” She stepped back.
“Marcus,” Sarah said to a young man standing to the back of the group. “You are Thom’s understudy. Tonight is your opportunity to shine upon the stage.” He was of middling height with lank brown hair and a huge nose—not exactly the characteristics Sarah had imagined for her romantic hero Jonathan Goodwell, but she had never expected Thom to not go on.
Instead of stoutly agreeing, Marcus shook his head. “I don’t know, Sarah. Thom is right about the risk going out there. I don’t know that I can play the part, what with worrying about a cabbage being thrown at my head. Those things can be as hard as a rock.”
“You must,” she insisted. “Without you, we don’t have a play.”
“Perhaps that might be for the best,” Louisa, one of the actresses, suggested. Several heads nodded.
Sarah could not let her show close. “We don’t know that Thom is telling the truth.”
“When was the last time there was a theater this full for new play and a new manager?” Louisa said. “Sarah, it may be a trap. We will all be ruined—”
