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“I—er—used to fancy myself as a bit of a playwright, in younger years,” Felix said with a mirthless smile. “Another Sheridan in the making. Hahaha.” At Clem’s blank look he added, “Richard Brinsley Sheridan. The Rivals? School For Scandal?”

Clem spread his hands wide. “It’s an uncultured swine, I am,” he said in his blandest manner.

“Oh, er, well, it’s comedy of manners,” Felix explained, taking a hasty sip of his own drink. “That type of thing.”

“I never knew you were interested in writing comedies, Felix,” Theo broke in. “How did I never hear of this?”

“Oh well.” Her brother gave another nervous laugh. “I was always far too self-conscious to let others read them,” he said wistfully. Theo nearly dropped her glass. When had Felix ever been wistful?

“What about Uncle?” she asked, slightly incredulous. “Did you never let Uncle see them?”

“Always promised myself I would,” Felix admitted with an awkward laugh. “Had this grand idea that I could get them produced one day on our own stage. I even tied one of them up in green ribbon once and put it on his desk with a note. Then twenty minutes later I reclaimed it and locked it back in my own drawer.” He took another swig of whiskey. “Hadn’t the nerve, in case he told me it was so much dross.”

“Why don’t you let Theodora read one of them?” Clem suggested. Theo swiveled in her seat to look at him. “What?” he asked. “You know the business as well as anyone. Comedy, I mean, and what the public likes.”

Theo spluttered. “I hardly think—”

“Would you, Theo?” Felix broke in, in strangled tones.

Good grief! She stared at Felix. “If you would value my opinion on the matter,” she said slowly, and her brother nodded, looking rather choked.

“Why don’t you run up and fetch it now?” Clem suggested. “In case you get a case of cold feet in the morning.”

“Already thought of that,” Felix admitted and, to Theo’s surprise, crossed to the bureau, unlocked it, and lifted out a sheaf of pages done up in faded ribbon. He could not quite meet Theo’s eye as he solemnly handed it over.

“I will start reading it tomorrow,” she promised, giving her brother a reassuring smile. It felt wrong seeing Felix uncertain of himself. “Has something happened, Felix?” she asked impulsively. “Something you have not told us, I mean.”

Felix’s guilty start told her all she needed to know. “Oh, just theatre concerns,” he said with an attempt at breeziness he could not quite pull off. Theo guessed things were not improving at The Parthenon. Far from it.

“What kind of concerns?” Theo heard Clem ask harshly and was surprised he’d bothered to ask. He was always rather dismissive of The Parthenon these days. Even more surprising, Felix did not immediately bristle up and get defensive over the question.

Her brother swirled his drink a moment in his glass. “Been having a few problems with some of our sponsors,” he admitted hoarsely. “Most of them, in fact. Either threatening or actively pulling their support altogether.”

Theo drew in a sharp breath. This was not good. “Why, all of a sudden?” she asked slowly. Things had been going downhill at The Parthenon for months if not years. Why would their financers all of a sudden start defecting en masse?

Realization only came when she saw the covert look that passed between her brother and her husband. The scandal over Henrietta. Oh God. She supposed it was the final nail in the coffin.

“We need to talk,” Clem said as soon as the bedroom door shut behind them. Something about the way he said it had her instantly on her guard.

“Clem? What is it?” she asked, feeling close to alarm seeing the look on his face.

He made no move to remove his jacket. “I need to tell you something, Dora. Something I should have told you from the outset.”

Theo gazed at him as a hundred unformed fears immediately flashed into her mind. He was bankrupt. He was a bigamist. He had killed a man. “What?” she croaked, feeling panicked.

“That day you came to my office,” he said, completely throwing her with his opening, “it was the second offer I’d received that day pertaining to The Parthenon.”

The Parthenon? Her mind had immediately leaped to it being his second offer of marriage that day! She gave her head a little shake. “The second?” she asked tentatively. He made a gruff sound of assent in his throat. “Who made the first?”

“Your sister.”

“Henrietta?” Theo’s voice rose. “I don’t … What do you mean?”

“When I came to see you in that play,” he said carefully, “I’d already identified your sister as the easiest way in. The weakest link in the chain.”

“Way in?” Theo sat on the edge of the bed and gripped the coverlet for dear life, so she did not slide off. She felt strangely weak and shaky.

“Into becoming a shareholder,” he explained. “I told her at once I was interested.” Interested in The Parthenon or in her person? a little voice inside Theo’s head whispered and she felt a little sick. “I did not have to wait long,” he continued. “She called on me at my office the same day as you did. A couple of hours prior in fact. Vincent brought her along,” he added. “Her terms were less involved than yours. She wanted money. Nothing else.”