Page 96 of The Lady Needs a Rogue
“More that ye know, Macie.” He traced the curve of her face with his fingertip, looking as if he might kiss her. “Ye’re just—”
Displaying utterly atrocious timing, Nell strolled the door, interrupting Finn’s gravel-edged words. She cut a direct path to the stage. “I do hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I suspect that unpleasant Mr. Neville is in the vicinity.”
Macie felt the dull throb in her temples begin anew. “He’s here?”
“A coach bearing a monogram on the door is outside the theater, waiting at the curb,” Nell said. “I believe I saw that carriage at Bennington Manor when the old man approached you.”
“Bloody hell,” Finn said, his voice turning gruff. “I’ll have a word with the gent.”
Macie shook her head. “Not quite yet,” she said. “I’ll speak to him. After all, I can’t have him think he can intimidate me.”
As they headed to the lobby, Finn stayed close by. Seeing no sign of Mr. Neville, they stepped outside.
The coach was nowhere to be seen. Macie’s shoulders relaxed as tension eased from her body.
“The weasel must’ve thought better of it,” Finn said.
Macie rubbed the back of her neck, easing out a sudden tension. “If he did follow us, I simply cannot understand what the man could possibly think to accomplish.”
“It’s possible I was mistaken,” Nell said.
“I find that unlikely,” Macie said. “You have a keen memory for details.”
“Perhaps not as keen as I’d thought. In any case, now I can take a peek at the dressing rooms. I have an idea for a photograph that might prove interesting.”
“An excellent idea,” Macie said as they reentered the building. As Nell headed toward the massive spiral staircase, Macie headed to the stage with Finn.
She’d scarcely had time to adjust her camera lens when a scream rang out. The terror in the piercing cry sent a chill along her spine.
“Nell!”
They darted from the theater, coming upon Nell by the stairs. She stood motionless as if frozen by fear.
“Thank heaven,” Macie rushed to her side. “We heard you scream.”
“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” Nell murmured. “It’s... it is awful.”
“What’s happened?” Finn said, his tone firm yet gentle. “Tell us what you’ve seen.”
Nell pointed to the lobby where patrons had once obtained refreshments. “He’s there.”
“Stay here.” Finn cut a path to the bar. His gaze fixed on the floor behind the counter. “Good God.”
Macie rushed to see what had left Finn stunned. “Oh, no.” The horror of the sight slammed into her. “This cannot be happening.”
A man lay in the shadows, an ebony cane topped with brass at his side.
Mr. Neville.
A bitter taste rose in the back of her throat. Macie pressed a hand to her mouth. She struggled against the instinct to flee.
Finn dropped to the floor and examined the man for signs of life. He slowly shook his head.
“I’m sorry, Macie. He’s gone.”
Dear Lord.
Macie’s pulse thundered in her ears. Emotion welled in her throat. “Perhaps his heart gave out.”
