Everything I Ever Wanted (4 page)

The colonel was quiet for a long time. "I suppose," he said finally, taking a moment to finish his drink, "that it could have gone worse. Though it's difficult to see how at first blush."

"I might have fallen from East's box and broken my neck."

"That would have been better, South. Not worse." The colonel waved aside any more of his protege's attempts to be helpful."You made her acquaintance. That is something at least. She will have no difficulty remembering you. Was there anyone left in the dressing room to witness your introduction save her dresser and the Compass Club?"

"There were loiterers in the hall. If they didn't glimpse it, they heard it. Berwin was among the last to be ejected. I believe he saw me exit, and I don't think he was alone. Grissom was there, I think. I made no attempt to hide my injury."

"Good. Because you can count on your friends not to repeat the incident."

"I know, but I think I can safely rely on Berwin and Grissom to spread the news of my comeuppance. It will soon be public record that I have alienated the affections of Miss Parr, which, indeed, I have."

"That is your own doing. I did not suggest that."

"It was a moment's inspiration."

Colonel Blackwood withheld comment. He would let South work out how to right the matter. The younger man invariably did. "I should like to hear your assessment of Miss Parr. Refrain, please, from pointing out that she delivers a considerable wallop. I see the evidence of that for myself."

"It was the earbobs," he said, pointing to the corner of his mouth. "I quite forgot she had them in her fist. Though I cannot say the same for her."

The colonel ignored that. "Your assessment."

"She is quite magnificent on stage. Dedicated to her craft, I think, judging by the way she took us to task for our disruption. I believed at first that she stepped in and out of character with uncanny ease, but I wonder at that now. While she was entirely confident behind the footlamps, I suspect she is much less so in other circumstances. In her own dressing room, for instance, surrounded by admirers, I found her to be less certain of her ground." South raised himself a few inches by pushing up on the arms of the chair with his elbows. "An impression, nothing more, I assure you. It flies in the face of the confident blow she delivered to mine, but I find I cannot entirely dismiss the notion that, left to her own devices, she is eminently vulnerable."

Blackwood frowned. It was not precisely what he wanted to hear, though he was uncertain of what Southerton could have said that would have satisfied him. "Could she be our murderer?"

South shrugged. "I couldn't say. Is she capable? I can think of no way to answer that except by asking, who among us is not?"

"How would you assess the risk to yourself if I ask you to continue?"

"I certainly would go on more cautiously than I began." He frowned slightly."Are you thinking of asking me to stop now? I assure you, nothing of note has been accomplished."

"I need to consider this further."

South's frown deepened. It was unlike the colonel not to have made a well-considered decision at the outset. The fact that he was reexamining caused South to wonder what he had said that was giving his mentor pause. "Is it that I referred to her vulnerability?" he asked frankly."What does that signify?"

Rather than answer the question, Blackwood said, "Let it rest. I find I am in need of the same. I will send for you in a few days' time. I think an evening at the theatre is in order for me. Pray do not show your face there until you have heard from me. And mind your friends stay away. Northam has much to do that has nothing in common with this bit of business, and Eastlyn and West have their own affairs to consider."

Southerton gave voice to none of the questions that occurred to him. The affairs of East and West were certainly the colonel's doing. Of North's current assignment he knew only a modest amount. That worthy had been tapped to find one rogue among the ton known familiarly to all as the Gentleman Thief. Northam's recent marriage had complicated the investigation, but South had no real concern that his friend would not be successful. The colonel demanded it. The members of the Compass Club therefore never delivered anything less.

South stood slowly, stretched. He tossed back the last of his drink and relieved Blackwood of the tumbler in his outstretched hand. He placed both glasses on the sideboard. "In a few days, then," he said, carefully neulral.

"Yes." The colonel waited until South had reached the door before he spoke again."It was done well, Southerton."

"Thank you, sir." South considered later that the colonel had only been so effusive with his praise to prompt a reaction. He hadn't disappointed, either. He had practically gaped, which in turn caused him to wince and clap his hand to the side of his face. The colonel had most definitely chuckled. The man had a decidedly twisted sense of humor.

India Parr examined her face in the mirror for remaining traces of the paint and powder. The application had been done with a particularly heavy hand for this evening's performance, and removing it had proved to be difficult. She was not inclined to spend more time on the matter. She wanted to remove herself from the theatre, away to her home, and crawl between the cool sheets of her bed. Perhaps lick her wounds.

True, there were no visible scars from tonight's altercation, but her loss of control left her feeling wounded and out of sorts. Behind her she heard Mrs. Garrety gently clucking her tongue as the dresser arranged clothes in the armoire.

"Leave it," India said. "Leave all of it."

"It's no good being cross with me, dearie. I'm not the one you're angry at."

India eyes refocused on her own reflection. She conceded the truth of what had just been said. "No, you're not."

"I've never seen the like before," the older woman continued as she straightened and fussed over the clothes and costumes. "You were were"

India sighed as words failed Mrs. Garrety. "I've never been so provoked. It's the sort of thing I could expect in the beginning. In the less reputable theatres. And always from the students crowding the back who thought it a good joke to pull the actors from the play and make them part of their own little dramas. It was surprisingly easy to resist then. They were obvious in their intent." She swiveled on her stool, turning away from the mirror."I think I won their respect because I never gave in."

"I know ye did, dearie. I was there. Remember?"

A slight crease appeared between India's brows. She raised a hand and rubbed at it absently. "Yes, you were, weren't you?"

"Hmmm." Mrs. Garrety closed the armoire. "Done here. Now, let's have a look at you." She studied her employer's pale face. "What's toward? Is it a megrim? Shall I prepare something?"

"No," India said quickly, letting her hand fall away. Then more softly, with less force behind the words, she said, "No, thank you. It's nothing save reaction to the end of a very tedious day."

The dresser studied India a moment longer."As you wish. Let me finish removing the paint from your face."

India acquiesced without any show of the reluctance she felt. What she truly wanted was the thing she couldn't have: solitude. She gave herself up to her dresser's ministrations, lifting her face and turning her head from side to side as docilely as a lamb. One of Mrs. Garrety's strong, warm hands closed over the slim stem of her throat but held it as gently as if it were a delicate crystal vase. The other made short work of the remnants of the stage powder and paint.

"There," she said upon completion. " 'Ave a look, dearie. It's your lovely face you'll be seeing. Not the French trollop's."

India turned and spared a glance for her mirror. "Do you think the critics will take notice of what happened tonight?"

Mrs. Garrety waved that concern aside. "I think you gave as good as you got. They were gentlemen behaving as louts. Well into their cups, I'd wager. For all their foolery, ye never lost your true audience." With an efficiency honed by experience, she began helping India out of her costume. The ribbons and stays did not tangle tonight. The separate pieces of the gown, bodice and skirt, then the undergarments, all fell away without a tug-of-war. The dresser whisked them to one side, draping them over a chair to be pressed later while India removed the whalebone panniers that had given her gown its classic silhouette. " 'Tis a pity, perhaps, that more didn't see you take his lordship to task right here."

India glanced at her dresser in some surprise and saw Mrs. Garrety was watching her, something shrewd in her regard."You were particularly single-minded in your efforts to remove everyone tonight."

"Yes, well, I saw him and his friends coming this way," she said crisply. "I couldn't predict what a scene it might be. I should 'ave known you'd hold your own. Didn't expect ye'd land him a facer, though. That was a picture, I tell ye. I'm thinking now that more should have enjoyed it."

India said nothing, choosing not to reveal that Viscount Southerton had asked for the facer. She was not certain what to make of it. Perhaps it was part and parcel of some ridiculous wager made with his friends. Then again In any event, she did not care to entertain Mrs. Garrety's opinion on the matter. "I'll finish myself," she said. "Will you ask Doobin to flag a cab?"

"Of course." Mrs. Garrety still took several minutes to gather India's costume for the wardrobe mistress before she left the room. By the time she returned, India was reaching for her pelisse. "Ye'll be wanting company for the ride home."

"No," said India."I am certain I'll be fine. There's really no need for you to trouble yourself."

" 'Tis no trouble at all."

India forced a smile. "Truly, Mrs. Garrety, I will be fine. As you said, I can hold my own."

Mrs. Garrety clucked her tongue gently. "Didn't mean to put that maggot in yer head. Ye need a protector. It's not the first time I've thought so. Ye have too many admirers, and I don't have enough 'ands to push them all out. And ye don't have enough 'ands to slap their faces. A protector's the answer. Just see if it isn't."

India watched the dresser go. In the quiet aloneness that followed, India felt the first wavelet of fear uncurl inside her. It was quickly followed by another. Then another. Fighting the tide was ineffective. It only left her exhausted. She drew a shaky breath instead and closed the velvet frog at the throat of the pelisse. More important to India than the question of a protector was the question of protection. The viscount's parting words returned to her now.

You cannot expect that I will always save you, Miss Parr.

If not Lord Southerton, India wondered, then who? The next wave crashed against her rib cage. Heart racing, she hurried toward the theatre's rear exit and the sanctuary and anonymity of the black hansom cab.

Lords Berwin and Grissom proved themselves reliable in repeating what they had witnessedor almost witnessed in Miss India Parr's dressing room. The first tidbit was dropped with even offhandedness that very night. The bored accents played well to the crowd gathered around the card table at Simon's. The story spread quickly in the gaming hell, and when members were moved the following the morning to face sunshine and hangover remedies, the tale became a delicious on dit to placate the stone-faced valets and disapproving mamas.

Southerton learned the scope of his success from his sister the following afternoon. Emma, he discovered, was also paying a call on their parents, and in South's estimation she was rather too cheerful in her greeting to be lightly dismissed. The mirth in her eyes spelled his certain doom. He kissed her cheek when she raised it to him.

"Emma." In her ear he whispered, "No one likes a tattle."

She beamed at him. "Oh, yes, they do." Without moving her head, she indicated the Earl and Countess of Redding with a playful slant of her eyes. She chuckled when South did not risk a glance and took his nephew from her arms instead. "He'll ruin your coat," she warned him. "He's been fussing all day."

South immediately held the baby at arm's length and considered him gravely. "Slobber, d'you mean?" Out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw a smile edge his father's mouth. His mother, though, was made of sterner stuff. Her back was up. "Plump and pretty," he said as his nephew stared back at him. "Ears are still in the right place. Not at all like that doll you had, Emma. Remember? The one that"

She took her child back. "There will be no talk of what happened to Cassandra, South. It's not for Niles to know." She pursed her lips and added significantly, "Or anyone else, for that matter."

South smiled coolly, one brow lifting the merest fraction. "Remember that when your tongue starts wagging again."

"Beast."

"Scylla."

"Ogre."

He touched a lock of his sister's hair that had fallen past her temple, and pushed it gently back. "You are looking well," he said sincerely. "Motherhood agrees with you, I think."

"Indeed it does."

South turned to his parents. "Mother." He kissed his mother's proffered cheek and found it warm in spite of the cool mien she affected. South looked to the earl to see if there would be assistance from that quarter and saw immediately he had covert sympathy. Outright support in the face of his mother's displeasure would have been folly. It was not the sort of breach a man as circumspect as the earl committed often. "Father. You look well."