Furthermore, the duke had been generous. He’d used his own men to haul their wagon off to the wainwright for repairs. She’d purchased fodder for dear Melon at a very good price from his stables. And it was on his land that they had set up their camp for their performances and he was not charging rent. No, what he wanted was something more costly—her tolerance.
Did she know that he fancied himself her savior? That he was enamored of her?
Oh, yes. Unfortunately.
He wasn’t the first she’d had to delicately handle, although it was a terrible bother. Kate was too busy to be acquiescing to male pride this way. It was one of the chief annoyances of her life. There were times she just wanted to say, “Yes, yes, I know you want to kiss mebut you can’t,” and have them leave her be. They never picked up on her polite hints. Especially the young ones.
And dukes whom you owed a debt to were trickier to dodge than most. She needed to be nice to Winderton, at least until the wagon was fixed and she could continue on her way to the city. She’d already rented Drury Lane for her troupe’s London debut. The date was fixed seven weeks hence for their performances and she was determined to make it, even if she had to carry all their goods herself.
Fifteen years ago, just when her acting career was beginning to take hold, she’d left London in disgrace and ruin because of a terrible betrayal. She’d never given up acting. The desire to perform was deep in her soul. However, she’d steered well clear of London.
But life had a habit of turning dross into gold. Last year, her brother had inherited a ducal title. He’d married an heiress and attending the wedding in London, Kate had realized that time had gone on. Those who had hurt her were no longer there. She could return, if she dared—and she did.
Since that wedding, she’d envisioned bringing her troupe to London. She’d planned for it, saved for it. She had a second chance at a dream that had burned bright inside her ever since she was a child. And nothing would stop her—not a lovestruck duke, or a broken axle and wheel, or that a week earlier, her lead actor Arlo Durbin had run off in the night with the local vicar’s youngest daughter and the troupe’s cash box.
Arlo’s betrayal had infuriated Kate. Then again, what man could be trusted?
Her purpose was to do what she always did—to dust off her skirts and move forward.
She could ask her family for help. Her brother was very wealthy now and he had always been generous, even when he’d been poor. She wouldn’t, though. Kate had pride. She also wanted to succeed on her terms. She was older, wiser, and tougher than the lass who had been silly enough to believe in love. The past years had sharpened her instincts. Few men played her for a fool, which made Arlo’s thievery and defection all the more biting.
Fortunately, Kate was an optimist, especially when she had her eye on a prize. Maidenshop was the perfect sized village for their performances. They could make a tidy sum in a week or two. Then they would move on to London and victory.
That is, if she didn’t lose her temper and strangle the local duke.
“Here, see?” Winderton moved over to his imaginary barrier and feigned being a fox peeking out around it. He was a princely dressed fox in well-tailored clothes and he smiled at Kate as if she must agree with his position.
She did not. Behind him, Nestor, the actor actually playing the role of Mr. Fox, mocked his earnestness with a roll of his eyes.
Since the duke had latched on to Kate the day before, the actors had teased her unmercifully about Winderton wanting under her skirts—such was the way actors talkedandsomething Nestor himself had tried, until Kate had set him firmly in his place.
No oneclimbed under her skirts. A woman’s power came in being in control. Sexual congress upset that balance. She’d learned that lesson the hard way.
She forced a bright smile. “An interesting idea, Your Grace... though Mr. Fox can’t jump out behind a barrel because he is supposed to be on the other side of the stage. The ‘trolling around’ was him taking himself to where he needed to be.”
Winderton placed a hand on his chin as he considered her comment. Then he said, “Well, Mr. Fox can move around on the barrel side of the stage. I definitely believe he must be over here.”
She kept her voice oh-so-sweet, a warning to anyone who knew her well that her patience was growing thin. This washertroupe. She’d built it from nothing. The only opinion that mattered was hers. “You make an excellent point, Your Grace. However, from the angle you prefer, the audience wouldn’t believe Mr. Fox can’t see what the crows are doing.” She nodded to Thomas and Robbie. They didn’t wear costumes but flapped pretend wings to demonstrate their characters.
“But if he was behind a barrel—”
“The crows would still see him in that location.”
“Ah—” the duke allowed.
“Thank you,” Kate answered. “Nestor, your line—”
“Which is another matter,” Winderton interjected. “I don’t wish to usurp your authority—”
Then why are you doing it?Kate wanted to shout. She clenched her teeth behind her smile.
“Wouldn’t it be better for the fox to be more forthright?” The duke puffed out his chest and hit it in dramatic demonstration. “Instead of telling us what the crows are doing, he should just shout, ‘Begone now.’ There is more action to it. A small change, but better, no?”
A small change?
Toherplay?
Behind her, Silas pretended to sneeze, releasing the sound with the words, “Be careful.”
