“Yes. I do. I think I can be happy with Bex, and he wants to marry me.”
Theodosia walked her husband to the door. “Let me see what can be done. Pretend nothing is wrong. Is that something a successful playwright can do?”
“I won’t betray confidences.” He put a kiss to Theodosia’s palm. “But convince Miss Croome to take care. There’s something about Bex…his radical ties.”
“Go out and save your brother Hartwell from receiving stares. He might not be as comfortable as you in these settings.”
Ester knew what she meant. Theodosia’s husband and her brother-in-law, the viscount, along with a banker and some representatives of Stephenson Clarke Shipping who’d enjoyed Papa’s fabric trade from Jamaica, were the only pale faces in a sea of chestnut, olive, henna, and ebony. It could be uncomfortable for them. How would Bex fit into such a setting? Would he be beset with nervousness, like Ester? How would she do in his world full of strangers and other actors—all different from her?
Theodosia closed the door, came to Ester, and clasped her palms. “I know you have feelings for this actor. You’ve liked him since we saw him in that play, with Frederica, almost two and a half years ago.”
“I’m in love with Arthur Bex, and now he wants to marry me.” Her voice, to her own ears, sounded proud, and she was. How could shenotbe, with the man of her dreams coming for her tonight?
The sleek ebony hair of Theodosia’s chignon bobbled as she shook her head, “Star-struck love…it’s not the same as deep love. And it’s not mutual. You must be logical. Think of what a wrong choice could cost. Your parents will disapprove of an actor.”
The breath almost left Ester, and she wrapped her arms about her to keep her heart safe. “You are married to a playwright. How can you talk about an actor so poorly?”
Putting a palm on Ester’s crossed arms, Theodosia said, “I have no parents to disapprove. You and Frederica are the only ones whose opinions mattered to me.”
Ester pulled away. “Then you, of all people, should be supportive. Arthur Bex has dined at your table. He’s been in one of your husband’s productions. How can you stand here and talk about him as if he were nothing?”
Theodosia stopped reaching for her and lowered her arms against the shiny satin of her gown. Croome fabrics draped both of them, but they couldn’t be more different.
“I respect Bex’s profession, Ester, but I am not your parents. I know how important their approval is to you.”
The approval of her parents had been everything until she’d discovered that they were living a lie. She shook her head. “This has nothing to do with them. It’s about Bex. He wants to marry me. Maybe when he saw me, he loved me, too.”
Theodosia nodded. “There is much to love about you. You’re smart and thoughtful. Never rash. Why not wait a month, meet with him a few more times—”
“I don’t have a month. Tonight, my father is to announce my engagement to a philanderer. Of course, he sees nothing wrong with that.”
“Your father wouldn’t do that. There must be some mistake. Mr. Croome adores you. He’d never do something that would make you so unhappy.”
“I’ve seen the contract. He’s told me so. The only mistake is mine, believing I had more time, or that my parents would afford me the opportunity to choose. I’m just a pawn in Papa’s negotiations. Maybe now he’ll make enough money to get that Cheapside home, perhaps even Mayfair, if they’ll sell to Blackamoors.”
“Ester. I know you are still smarting from the letters you found.”
“Father’s letters to his mistress. Those letters?” Ester moved to the window and wrapped the heavy purple tapestry curtain betwixt her palms, dragging the ribbon trimmings through her fingers. She had wanted her voice to sound calm, but the rage and disappointment of it all ripped through her again. She sat on the sill. “I thought things were so perfect. That my mother and father had found each other. I wanted a love like theirs.”
“Ester, they love each other now. He’s giving her this wonderful party.”
“Perhaps, but I don’t want his kind of love. Not any part of it. I’d rather listen to Bex say my name. I can live in his voice.”
“What happens when the talking stops? It always does.” Theodosia sat on Mama’s couch, the side with no arm, and stretched out. “Whatever happened was a long time ago. You said yourself those letters were four or five years old.”
Rubbing her temples, Ester exhaled. Too much tension had invaded her chest. Those were the ones she’d found. How many more existed? “We’d just moved into Nineteen Fournier. Mother was in the middle of restoring it to make it her dream home. Why would she leave him when he’d put a new roof over our heads? She never even became angry with him. Not an outspoken word.”
“Nothing?” Theodosia cupped her elbows and rocked, as she did when she tried to figure things out. “Maybe you just didn’t see it. Your mother is a very private woman. But what does this have to do with you? You’re not marrying your father.”
Ester peered out to the street again. More carriages lined it. The link boys swung their torches like acrobats, big and bright and high. “Charles Jordan is just a younger, shorter version of Papa. Why are they forcing me to marry him?”
“Parents make choices for their children. They think they are doing the best.” Theodosia’s voice lowered, gaining a very solemn timbre. “Sometimes they make horrible choices, but that doesn’t mean you should make a bad one. You’ll know what it means someday, but don’t do something now that could put you in a bad situation. You can’t punish your father by doing something that could ruin you.”
“Marrying Bex won’t ruin me. It’s a dream come true. You and Frederica both have tried to get husbands by newspaper advertisements. This is a man who we all know. I couldn’t be any luckier than you finding Fitzwilliam again.”
Brushing at her brow as if Ester’s logic had given her a headache, Theodosia smiled. “We know of him, but nothing about what has made him the man he is. But I’ll support you. My love for you is endless, Ester. I just want you to take care.”
Coming close to the couch, she took Theodosia’s hand. “Help me wait until Bex comes. He will be here five after midnight.”
