The throb in her temples increased. She rubbed her forehead. “How bad is it? From one to ten, ten being her actually following through on her threat.”
Pearl shrugged. “About a three.”
“So she’ll still go on. As long as that occurs, the rest can be taken care of tomorrow.” Dropping her hand, she tapped the list against her thigh. “What’s this about the lights?”
“The gas ain’t working again.”
Hell and damnation, just once she wanted things to go smooth. It wasn’t too much to ask, was it? “The gas doesn’t work on a regular basis. I don’t know why they even bothered to install it. Gather the candles and put them in the recesses, or get Henry to do it.”
Bobbing a curtsey, Pearl bowed her head all deferential-like. “Yes, ma’am, Miz Reynolds, ma’am.”
Damn. Her words had been curt, and rude beside. “I’m panicking, aren’t it?”
Pearl grinned. “Yep.”
“It’s just I want it to go well.” The pounding increased.
Grin dimming to a fond smile, Pearl rubbed her shoulder. “I know.”
She wrapped her arms about herself. “We’re only as good as our last show.”
“I know, Alice.” Pearl hugged her. “Don’t fret so. The show will be magnificent, you’ll see.”
Pressing her chin into her friend’s shoulder, some of the tension melted away. “Have I ever told you how glad I am you chose to come out to Ironwood?”
“Every show.” Giving her an extra squeeze, Pearl pushed away. “Now, go be magnificent.”
“Yes, ma’am.” She watched Pearl disappear behind stage. She squared her shoulders. There was still much to do.
A murmur of voices told her the doors to the theatre had opened. Panic had her scrambling for her watch. Had half an hour passed already? It must have, otherwise the doors would still be closed. Well, that meant she had less than fifteen minutes to finalize everything...but she couldn’t resist a peek at who had chosen to attend.
A steady stream of men entered the room, seating themselves at the tables with bottles of ale or whiskey. They all appeared to have cleaned themselves up some, a recent state of affairs she was heartily grateful for. Though she would not turn away any paying customer on account of their dress, the gradual increase in the quality of men who attended meant she could raise the entry price, and who could be glum at that?
A smile pulled at her as her gaze tripped over each man and it became apparent this month would be another sell-out. Then, her gaze tripped over Llewellyn. Her stomach plummeted to somewhere around her shins.
He had come.
Quickly, she shook herself. Of course he would come. Every able-bodied man within a five mile radius made sure to attend the Spectacular. If they didn’t come for the quality of the show, the fact the girls bared most of their flesh at one point or another was a dead sure selling point. Llewellyn was no different from any other man, no matter what he’d have her believe. Besides which, he’dtoldher he would come, and she was a damn idiot for construing meaning when there was none.
She hadn’t had occasion to speak to him since the incident in the alley, four full days ago. Of course, she’d made it mostly by design they hadn’t met. She had too much to trouble her, with the Spectacular and the claim, to cloud her mind with thoughts of the Englishman and his contradictions. However, now he was here...
As if it occurred again, his lips were upon hers, hungry and demanding. His hair, soft and tangled in her fingers. His body pressing into hers and sensation rioting through her. For all he’d acted the fool after, she’d liked what had happened. No, she’dlovedit. And, if she spoke a truth, she couldn’t wait until it happened again. Maybe she would even make it happen tonight.
A smile flirted with her lips. Tonight, she would kiss him again, and she wouldn’t let him pretend to be a fool. Tonight, maybe, she would push him for more than just a kiss.
Her smile faded. But only after the Spectacular was a resounding success.
***
LOUNGIN IN HIS SEAT, Rupert watched the stage.
He’d chosen a table toward the back of the theatre, a small one with only one other chair. The candle placed upon its centre flickered weakly, adding little in the way of illumination, and around him men shuffled to the tables, sitting two, three, or four a piece.
The stage loomed before them, framed by rich velvet curtains—red in colour and with gold fringe, as all the best theatres had. The whole thing put him in mind of a Parisian cabaret, which he’d been privileged to enjoy a time or two before making his way to America. He could imagine Alice perusing magazines and extracting descriptions of French burlesques, applying her newly gained knowledge to her Diamond Theatre. It seemed all that was missing was a crystal chandelier, though he had confidence within the year one would grace her theatre.
Alice. A smile lifted the corner of his mouth. He’d thought of her often these last few days, even more so for the glimpses he’d had of her around town. Those glimpses had never been long enough to engage her in conversation, so he’d had to make do with polite nods and smiles before she’d hurried by him, always about some errand or the other. He was determined to speak to her tonight after her Spectacular was done, when she could have no excuse for avoidance. And he meant to see if the delight he’d found in her arms could be replicated.
There were dangers involved in such a pursuit, he’d no doubt of that. She alone seemed to see through his act, and even if she didn’t, she was much too quick to fool for long. She would have to be told of his purpose in Ironwood, though his contract with Wyoming Coal didn’t allow for disclosure. If he were to court her, spending time getting to know her and she him, he’d have need to discover a loophole and quick. She deserved to know, as soon as he could manage it.
