Page 101 of Unforeseen Affairs
“Will the police come?” she asked.
“I’d assume so,” Colin said, “although one of the stagehands in the opposite wing saw everything Trenwith did. He ought to confirm that my actions were all in self-defense.”
With Charlotte in his arms, Colin found his way back to the small dressing room that had been set aside for Mr. Bass. The door was ajar, and he kicked it open.
“They all saw… didn’t they?” she murmured against his coat.
“Who saw what?”
“They all saw the trickery. The stilts, the straps, the—” She drew in a sharp hiss of breath as he lowered her onto a small fainting couch.
“Easy now,” he murmured, kneeling on the floor before her. “Do not strain yourself.”
“I can speak,” she muttered. “At least for now. But I must tell you—”
“There’ll be plenty of time for speaking later,” he fretted.
She set her face into a familiar aloof expression that exuded mild scorn.
Colin turned away, both to hide his smile and to retrieve the champagne they’d left there earlier. It seemed like a lifetime since they’d sent that boy off on his errand. Colin located the bottle, then poured Charlotte a glass and placed it against her lips.
“Drink.”
“Colin, I…” She wrinkled her nose adorably.
“Please, drink.Please. Indulge me.”
She stared at him ferociously, but allowed him to tilt the coupe, and accepted the gently fizzing wine.
Another wave of relief washed over him as she drank.
He would do anything to keep her safe, to keep her with him. He would cede any dreams of returning to sea, would forgo any adventure that she could not be a part of.
For she was now a part of him, in a way that could not be undone.
She pulled back slightly, parting her glistening lips as if she meant to speak.
“Wait,” Colin said, with a genuine smile now. “We ought to—”
He stood up, looking about until he located the other coupe. Grinning, he filled it for himself. It bubbled over the edge in his rush to pour.
Back on his knees next to Charlotte, he lifted his glass.
“We ought to have to a toast.”
“Oh?” A small smile appeared on her lips, her first since she had emerged from the rubble.
“Yes!” Colin was grinning like a fool now, but he did not care.
In the hall beyond the door he heard a ruckus approaching, with theater workers shouting over one another while an authority figure bellowed, “One at a time, lads, one at a time!”
Colin picked up her coupe, now holding one in each hand.
“What shall we toast to?” she asked.
Gently he placed hers in her uninjured hand, waiting to let go until he was sure she could lift it without pain.
“I’ll put that to you, my darling,” he said.
