Chapter 2

two

A NGELINE HUFFED AS the doors to the boxes lining the hallway were shut, signalling the play was about to begin.

"What am I supposed to do here for an hour?" she asked the footman.

"The same as I do. Obey the earl. There's nothing we can do about the situation." He regarded her from underneath bronzed eyelashes.

"The earl isn't my master. I have no intention of staying here and doing nothing."

She'd take a hansom cab home. She should ask for a reimbursement of her ticket at the box office since she couldn't enjoy the play. Or ask the blasted earl to reimburse it. She went to open the door to the box to tell her mother she was leaving, but the footman blocked her, having the audacity to hold her wrist.

"No. The earl's orders are clear. He must not be disturbed."

"Goodness, let me go."

He did as told without hesitation and without an apology.

"Then you'll do me the favour of informing my mother that I returned home." She started to leave when the cheeky man stepped in front of her and blocked her path.

"Miss," he hissed. "Don't make this more difficult than necessary. I'm afraid you have to stay here. His Lordship's orders."

"Oh, really?" She lifted her chin, mostly to be able to stare at him in the eyes rather than show him defiance. "Thank goodness I don't have to follow His Lordship's orders." She tried to sidestep the giant, but he mirrored her moves.

"Thank goodness my job is to make sure His Lordship's orders are followed." His tone didn't have an ounce of humour.

"I want to leave. I'm not going to wait here for an hour, hoping your master will show me mercy and let me in."

His luscious chestnut curls bounced over his sharp jaw as he shook his head. If he weren't so intense and menacing, he'd pass for a handsome man. Frightening, but handsome.

"Staying here is in your interest as well, miss. It's late. A lady shouldn't take a hansom cab alone at this hour of the night. It's a matter of safety."

No, it was a matter of principle. Who was this earl who could decide how she was supposed to spend her night?

"I am not staying. Sir. I apologise if my decision upsets you."

She didn't ride and practise with a bow every day to have some hulk of a man bully her. He towered over her and had enough muscles in his little finger to knock her out, but she was light, agile, and quick. If she confused him with quick footwork and was fast enough, he wouldn't catch her.

Besides, she didn't need to go past him. She could run in the opposite direction and leave the theatre using the secondary exit. She had never been at the Theatre Royal, but every theatre had a secondary exit for the performers and staff. The other exit should open to a side alleyway. His Lordship would scold him for not having held her. Served him right.

The man exhaled, his chest lowering. "Miss, I must?—"

She feinted a dash to the left. He followed her move, but she spun on her heels and ran towards the other side of the corridor, and goodbye hunky footman.

Ha! It'd been easier than she'd thought. The heavy skirt and petticoats hindered her movements, but she was used to running with them. The secondary hallway leading to the rear was so narrow her skirt skimmed both walls. She didn't dare glance behind her as she sped down the service stairs. The silence bothered her, though. Too quiet for anything good. Midway down, she paused and checked behind her. No one. The loyal footman wasn't so loyal after all. He must have decided that catching her was too much of an effort for his salary.

Pity. She enjoyed a nice chase. Leaving him behind had been too easy. Obviously, the man wasn't as athletic as he seemed. Never mind.

She resumed going down the stairs at a leisurely pace. Mama would be all right. She was a resourceful, indomitable woman. If anything, the earl had to be careful because when Mama set her mind on a venture, nothing could stop her. No one knew the stock market better than she did. Her investments were always a success.

At the end of the stairs, Angeline hurried along the wide corridor towards a set of double doors. She pulled them open. A large figure loomed over her. She screamed.

"Surprised, miss?" The footman filled the space in the doorframe with his bulk.

She stepped back. "How?"

"I guess I know this theatre better than you do. Shall we return to the earl's box after this pointless exercise?" He stretched out an arm towards the stairs. "Ladies first."

"Brutes before beauty."

His eyebrows lowered over his hazel eyes. "Very funny, miss, but I'm tired of jokes. Please go upstairs, or I'll be forced to drag you."

She balled a fist on her hip. "You wouldn't dare."

"Challenging me is a very bad idea."

"I do challenge you, sir. Now step aside and let me go."

"I told you it was a bad idea." He took her waist and lifted her as if she were a doll. His large hands covered her ribcage while her feet dangled over the floor. "You forced me, miss."

"Put me down. This is most undignified."

"I'll put you down, but not here." He went up the stairs flawlessly, despite the fact she wriggled and struggled in his firm grip.

She tried everything— shoving him, moving side to side like a snake to ease his grip, and squeezing herself out of his hands, but the man trapped her. He didn't let her go, not even when they were in the upstairs hallway.

"What is happening?" A theatre host stared at them in horror. "Unhand the lady immediately."

"He kidnapped me." Angeline shrugged herself free from the man's steely grip. Or rather, the brute let her go.

"I have orders," the brute said. "His Lordship, the Earl of Havisham, ordered me to make sure this lady waits outside of his box. I'm only doing my job, sir."

Oh, no. The theatre host lost his outraged air. Just hearing the name of an earl had been enough to change his demeanour.

"Well, in that case." The theatre host moved out of the way. "Continue."

"I can't believe it." The rest of her protest was cut off by the brute grabbing her by the waist again. "This is utterly… I can't… I can't…"

"Say something that makes sense?" Too much amusement rang in his voice.

"You're incredibly rude."

"You're breaking my heart, miss." He clicked his tongue. "You ran. What was I supposed to do? London is dangerous at night. You can't leave unchaperoned."

She scoffed once he put her down in front of His Blasted Lordship's door. She folded her arms over her chest. "And now?"

He stood next to her, silent.

She paced around. "You wouldn't have caught me if you hadn't cheated. Obviously, I'm faster. You're too big to be quick."

He shot her a questioning gaze.

"People with a lot of muscles are slower than petite people. It's science."

He pinched the bridge of his nose.

"This is unfair. Only because a capricious earl gives an order, I must stay here with you."

For the first time, his features softened a tiny fraction. "Those who hold the power can command us. I don't make the rules. You don't make the rules. Time will go faster if you accept this simple truth."

"Absurd. Anyhow, in a fair race I'd beat you." Her mouth twitched as a pungent smell like that of burning paint and fabric reached her nostrils.

He straightened, staring at a point over her head. "Run."

"Do you want to chase me again? I'm game."

"No, run. Fire." He wrapped his arms around her again and moved away from the door before shoving it open. "Fire!" He let her go and disappeared inside.

Heavens. He was right. Dark smoke crept from the service stairs they'd just come from. Her eyes watered as the air turned acrid and grey.

"Mama!" She didn't have time to enter the darn box before her mama rushed out of it.

"What is it?" Mama screamed. Bright orange flames roared from the other side.

"Quick." The brute came out of the box, shoving a tall blond man in an elegant suit.

The shout ‘ fire ' echoed from every corner of the theatre. The roar of the blaze was unmistakable now. A stream of people shoving each other clogged the corridor. Angeline groaned when someone's elbow hit her ribs and someone else's foot caused her to trip.

"Order! Form a proper queue!" a theatre host yelled, waving his arms.

No one paid him the slightest bit of attention. Smoke saturated the air, and people pressed against Angeline from every side. She was shoved right and left, back and forth, almost losing her footing. Breathing was a chore. Her lungs hurt because, every time she inhaled, it was like gulping acid. Her head spun with the smoke and the chaos.

There was a loud crack coming from the ceiling before a flaming log dropped in a flare of red sparks. People screamed. The log thudded against the stairs, shedding flames in its wake. She gasped when the people in the middle of the stairs disappeared underneath the blaze, the smoke, and the log.

A searing pain slashed her arm as a burning piece of a log fell on her. The silk glove caught fire. She screamed and swatted the flames, tears blurring her vision. She didn't have time to assess the damage as another piece of the ceiling fell behind the smoke.

Panic ensued. Some people pushed her to go down, others to go up. She didn't know where the exit was. Her head hurt, her arm throbbed, and her eyes watered.

"Mama?" She searched around. Mama, the brute, and the earl were nowhere to be seen. She had no idea where or when she'd lost them. "Mama?"

She struggled to walk against the flow of the crowd. Shoves and jabs hit her, and the pain nearly caused her to pass out. She panted, then coughed from the smoke The air turned scorching, and the frightening noise of the fire crackling and eating the walls froze her. The people seemed to be frozen as well because everyone was moving and shoving others out of the way, but no one seemed to be going anywhere. The ceiling tilted. A buzzing noise rang in her ears.

"Miss!" The brute's blackened face swept into view. "What are you doing here?" He hauled her up before she could say anything.

This time, she didn't protest. Her head hurt, and the air was too heavy to breathe properly, never mind talking. She wrapped her good arm around the brute's neck and clung to him as he shoved people aside none-too-gently, making his way against the flow.

"Don't worry, miss," he said among pants. "Your mother is safe outside."

"How did you find me?" she said among coughs.

"I told you I knew this place better than you."

She took a deep breath to thank him, but another coughing fit cut her off. Smoke stung her eyes, and the sizzling noise of the fire scared her to death. She gripped him with all her strength, feeling his hard muscles under her arm. Tears welled in her eyes because of the irritation and the pain.

She and the man reached a part of the theatre less crowded although she couldn't tell where they were. The air was cleaner, but she kept coughing.

"Almost there." He rushed down a dark corridor before barging through a set of double doors. "Here we are." He put her down gently on something hard and cold. His face wrinkled in concern filled her vision. "You're hurt." He sounded desolate.

"A burned—" She couldn't finish the sentence.

"Don't talk. Take deep breaths and spit the ash if you need to."

"Angeline." Mama came from somewhere and hugged her, smelling of smoke and burned silk. "Darling. You disappeared. I was so scared."

"My arm," she stammered.

Mama's eyes flared wide as she cradled Angeline's arm gently. "Do not worry. We'll take care of it." She started sobbing. "It'll be all right."

The earl sat next to her, coughing so hard he shook. Ash blackened his face. The tips of his coattails were burned, and thick tears streamed down his face.

"I'll be right back." The brute… well, she couldn't call him that now, not anymore. The man rushed back into the inferno.

"Royston, don't!" The earl bent over, coughing. "It's an order."

But Royston didn't listen.

From the outside, the theatre was even scarier. Angeline gazed at the building. What once had been the sparkling white walls of the Theatre Royal were spitting fire from every window. The orange glow seemingly coming from every corner created a halo against the backdrop of the night sky. It was an inferno, and Royston had jumped straight into it.

"What is he doing?" Angeline's throat burned with the effort of talking.

"Being a bloody fool." The earl wiped his face with a handkerchief.

Sirens pealed. The fire brigade worked around the building with tall sprays of water from the hydraulic pumps, but she doubted any part of the theatre could be saved. Other survivors around her coughed and shivered. Some showed nasty burns on the face and neck. At least she wasn't seriously injured, thanks to Royston. She doubted she would have lasted long without his help.

A collective gasp rose from the crowd as another part of the roof collapsed. She clamped a hand over her mouth. Where was Royston?

"Oh, no." Mama hugged her. "That poor man."

The earl hung his head, running a hand through his dishevelled hair.

Angeline exhaled when Royston came out of the door, carrying an unconscious young man. A small entourage of people, all coughing and crying, thanked the footman, calling him a hero. He deposited the young man on the kerb next to the others before rushing back inside.

"No!" she shouted at the same time as the earl said, "Stay here. It's an order."

But Royston didn't listen.

When the roof collapsed completely, she regretted not having had the opportunity to thank him.