Page 95 of Unforeseen Affairs
She looked quickly about the room, searching for a clock. Seeing none, she frowned.
“Actually, I ought to go now.”
Colin stood, his expression changing from excitement at their momentary success to something darker, the lines between his brows deepening with concern.
“I still don’t like it, you going out there on your own. It ought to be me.”
Charlotte closed her hand around her carnelian watch fob and lifted it away from her chest. The swath of lace adorning the neck of her gown obscured the decoration behind its light, yet thick ruffles. Silently she imagined a happy resolution to theirendeavor, trying to will a successful outcome into being. There was no reason to allow the omen she thought she had sensed in the entrance hall to spook her.
“We’ve discussed this…” she began, flushing at the memory of them outlining the steps of their plan as they lay entangled atop the hotel sheets. He had protested this part heartily, not wanting her to open herself up to ridicule. “You placed yourself at my direction, if you’ll recall,” she reminded him.
“I know,” he said gently. He looked down at her in her chair, then reached down and tipped her chin up.
When she looked up at him, his eyes were fierce, revealing a strength of emotion she’d come to recognize in her own heart. Her entire body heated.
“I’m not one to disobey orders,” he murmured.
His lips were beautiful. She remembered the way they felt on her…
Charlotte shut her eyes.Since you’ve placed yourself at my disposal, I would have you marry me, then. Now was a chance for her to say it.
But she didn’t.
Instead she stood and, with one last look back at Colin, slipped out the door.
Out in the narrow, poorly lit halls underneath the theater, she navigated her way to the stage almost preternaturally. On another occasion, she might have credited that to the fact that she’d grown up behind the footlights.
Tonight, though, something else drove her there.
Here was the final step of their plan, requiring Colin to manufacture a diversion that would allow Charlotte to take action. She snuck into a shadowed corner behind a pile of detritus from another production, and from there she peered out until she saw Colin approach the backstage area, striding out in the open as though he belonged there.
Just out of sight, a ripple of cheers and applause rolled through the auditorium.
Mr. Bass must have finished his trick, the last one before the elongation. Soon he would begin the one they had been waiting for. The orchestra struck up a delicate, mysterious tune, all minor notes and tense strings.
A few stagehands milled about, moving equipment or just relaxing atop assorted wooden crates, waiting for their cues. They lifted their heads warily as Colin approached—he had begun to beckon them over to him with an urgent, yet authoritative gesture.
“Quick, men!” he exhorted, doing his best to keep his voice low as he started issuing orders. “There’s something going on out there—people are blocking one of the exits.”
The men bolted to their feet and hurried toward Colin.
It would have been difficult for them not to, for he possessed a cool, collected manner while projecting a calm self-assuredness. Charlotte realized she was witnessing what it was that had allowed him, despite his youth, to rally his men to capture and board those two privateer ships.
One could not help but do as he said, when he said it like that.
And besides, the suggestion of an emergency was nothing to sneeze at, especially not in a theater. Charlotte had never seen one that was not full of gas lamps, flammable materials, and an inadequate number of exits. Indeed, theaters tended to meet their ends as smoking piles of charred rubble. Even the mere worry of fire could send hundreds into a mass panic.
“Fire?” one of the stagehands whispered urgently, looking to Colin for guidance as he passed.
“No, no fire,” Colin replied as he waved the men on. He would not risk such a panic, which if it spread to the audience could result in a human crush whose tragedy could surpass that of anactual fire. “Keep calm! There is no fire, but we must keep this building safe and open. Get on with it—I’ll be right behind you.”
They all took off running, and Colin jogged after them, the intent being to scatter them in all directions.
For a moment Charlotte waited, imagining him at the aft of a ship with one of those large, silly hats upon his head. She had seen a great many of them in the familial portraits that lined the halls of the Gearings’ London home.It wouldn’t look silly on him, though, she thought with certainty.
The wing was now empty. Surely there were people in the opposite wing, but they would not be in a position to stop her from entering the stage.
With a deep breath, Charlotte came forth from the shadows, drifting toward the light spilling from the channel between the thick, plush curtains concealing the wings. These were cheekily referred to as the legs, which hung at the sides of the stage in front of the backdrop, the grand drape.
