I released my fingers from curling about Papa’s knife. Wouldn’t even be able to collect my outstanding payment if I stormed to Gladstone and made him bleed out.
When I sought revenge, I had to make sure I couldn’t get caught. Noah and Enna needed me.
Putting my knife deeper into my coat, I moved to the box office, but took a last gape at Felton. In the middle of the night, I still craved his heat like that stinky cheese.
The theatre manager came down the stairs. He waved at me and opened the door to the small closet-like room where tickets were sold.
My money must be ready. I could at least gather that.
Still, I hesitated. The way I gawked at Felton, it was obvious to my lying soul that I hadn’t completely stopped caring for him.
Cecilia, get your money. Then buy your own cheese.
Head down, hood drawn tight about me, I ignored everything and made my legs move.
In a way, he’d be proud of the new, pragmatic, money-first me.
The theatre office was very small. I purposely left the door open. I’d grown to hate anything that felt tight, and my trusting of British men was small.
“Ah, Mrs. Cecilia. I told you I’d have your money in full tonight. It’s a packed crowd. I thought Miss Enna would be coming for the money.”
Why, so you could cheat her?“I had an appointment tonight nearby. I decided to come in her stead.”
“You’re looking at another theatre production?”
I was, but I couldn’t say that and expect to get all my money.
Mr. Downes took out his purse and counted out twenty pounds and two shillings. “Here is your fee.”
He slid the money close to my gloved hands but kept his fat thumb on the big silver pieces. “When do you think you will be able to do another?”
“I’m not sure, sir.”
“You can bring the sprat, anyone you want. I won’t make a fuss this time. Your artistry is worth every inconvenience. All are raving of your scenery. I suspect the ton will come for it as much as to seeThe Taming of the Shrew.”
That was supposed to be a compliment? The big man rarely gave them. I nodded and slipped the money in my pocket. “I’ll think about it.”
I turned to leave, but the exit was blocked.
My husband was here for me after all.
CHAPTER21
FELTON—WHEREHAVEYOUBEEN?
Wound so tight he thought his veins would bust, Felton stormed into the theatre office. His wife, missing for too long now, stood a few feet away.
Her eyes were wide.
Her breath, like his, came in spurts.
The manager, an odd duck named Downes, stood up behind his desk. The oily fellow with messy hair leaned over his stomach and desk, scowling. “No one is allowed back here.”
Felton wanted to hit the man. Instead, he picked a coin out of his pocket and slammed it on the table. “I need a word alone with this young woman.”
The man picked up the gold piece and bit it. “Part of your entourage, Mrs. Cecilia? For a widow so absorbed in art, you have a lot of company.”
The woman he’d been hunting, fretting over, half closed her eyes and clasped her elbows. “Can you allow us a moment, sir? It’s less noisy in here. I need to concentrate on what he’ll say.”
