Chapter 31

"This is a marvellous piece!" Charles declared. "Why, I think it will be our next great production! This is just what we needed!"

Victoria flushed from his praise. "Even if the play is not written by a lady?"

"Even so!" Charles exclaimed. "It is so raw and real! I can feel the passion in every word. Why, I can imagine our Loralie being Lady Constance! Henry will be Lord Belmont, of course!"

Victoria smiled and nodded. She had imagined that Loralie would play the role of Lady Constance from the very beginning. There was no better actress in all of London. She would perform well in the role, even if the Lady Constance in this play would not have the happy ending that Victoria had originally imagined her having. Victoria looked at her pages spread over Charles' desk. She had imagined this day so many times, and somehow, the reality paled in comparison to all her dreams. This was not the play she had imagined presenting to the troupe. This was not even a play that felt like it was hers but instead like a pale imitation of the great work she had always wanted to write.

"It is different than what I expected," Loralie said softly.

The actress had joined Charles and Victoria, and she had read over the theatre manager's shoulder as he read the script. Throughout the reading, Loralie had kept giving Victoria soft, concerned glances.

There was no mystery as to why. Victoria often came to the theatre late at night, but she had never arrived and announced her desire to live in the theatre forever. Victoria had not yet told the theatre troupe what went so wrong, but they all knew something terrible had happened.

"Different is good," Charles replied. "I think this will be excellent!"

"I am glad," Victoria said.

"Can we speak for a moment?" Loralie asked, placing a hand on Victoria's shoulder.

"Of course."

Loralie gave Charles a look, which he accepted with a sort of surprised shout. "Oh, yes. Well—Victoria, if you do intend to stay here, you are welcome. We would be delighted to have you join us as a playwright and stagehand."

"Thank you," Victoria said.

That had once been her dream, after all. Perhaps it was Victoria's own fault that living with the theatre troupe was not quite the perfect future that she had imagined. If she had not tried to pursue Lord Bedford, her heart would never have been broken. She would still have all those warm ideas about the future and love. The future would still be bright and welcoming.

"I shall work at having copies made," Charles said, gathering the pages. "I do think we need a better title, Victoria. Think about it! The play is certainly ready for us to begin making steps towards producing, though."

The manager slapped his hand on the table and grinned. Then, he strode away, whistling. Victoria let herself lean back in her chair, suddenly drained of energy. Loralie placed a soft hand over Victoria's own. "Tell me what happened," Loralie said. "Please."

Victoria sighed and took a deep breath. She recounted the meeting with Lord Bedford at the festival, and with every word, Victoria felt as if she were unravelling just a little more. By the story's conclusion, her breath came in sharp, anxious hitches, and her eyes burned with barely contained tears.

"Oh, my dearest," Loralie said.

"I am sorry," Victoria replied, laughing unevenly. "I feel like all I have done is cry these past two days. I loved him so much."

"I imagine you still love him."

Victoria wiped the tears away before they could fall. "I wish I did not."

Loralie sighed quietly. "Victoria, I do not think that you should—perhaps, you ought to speak to him again."

"Again?"

"I do not fault you for how you reacted to him," Loralie said. "I am sure that you were startled by the situation and that you felt betrayed, but surely, you do not trust Lady Norwood. She has always treated you unkindly."

"She has," Victoria admitted. "I feel so foolish for not recognizing that sooner."

"You should not feel foolish," Loralie said. "Many people long for love, even from those who cannot offer it. You were a child who had lost your father and mother. Of course, you wanted Lady Norwood to love you."

Victoria shook her head. "So why did I hope that she would for so long? Surely, I should have realized much sooner what a fruitless quest for affection that would be."

"You are only human, Victoria," Loralie said. "You are blameless. If anyone carries the blame, it is only Lady Norwood."

Victoria gazed doubtfully at her friend. Sometimes, she felt that Loralie was a better friend than she really deserved. "I will try to tell myself that," Victoria said. "However, it is not only my stepmother. Lord Bedford—Thomas—he did hide the inheritance from me."

"Perhaps he truly did want to give you the opportunity to fall in love with him," Loralie said, "just as he said."

"But how can I know that?" Victoria asked. "I could not bring myself to admit that my own stepmother did not care for me. How do I know that I did not make a similar error with him?"

"You must trust your heart."

"And if I cannot trust my heart?" Victoria asked. "What can I do then?"

Loralie patted Victoria's hand. "Sometimes, you must take a risk. What is the worst that will happen if Lord Bedford proves to be false?"

"I will be hurt," Victoria said, "again. I never want to feel like this again."

Loralie inclined her head. "That is a good reason to hesitate. Most people do not wish to be hurt, much less to endure the pain of heartbreak."

"Then, I have my answer."

"Not entirely," Loralie replied. "Because now, you must ask yourself what will happen if the lord proves that he was not false. You might feel a joy unlike any that you have ever felt before."

Victoria raked her hands through her hair and shook her head. It was like a puzzle without a solution. How could any woman possibly choose between those two impossible options? She would be either happy or miserable, and Victoria could not see any other option.

"Have you ever experienced heartbreak before?" Victoria asked.

"A few times," Loralie replied. "I survived them all."

"Maybe you are a stronger woman than me."

Loralie smiled. "No, simply older. Maybe a little wiser. It is unfortunate when someone you love proves false, but I have found that love is largely worth the risk. Even when it fails, you at least have the eventual realization that you have tried to achieve something greater than yourself."

"Something greater," Victoria mused.

"Loving another person is the greatest thing that any of us can do," Loralie said. "I firmly believe that."

"Even after all the tragedies you have acted in?" Victoria asked, her pulse quickening. "You still believe in love?"

Loralie smiled and nodded. "They are only roles, Victoria. Knowing what I do now, I can understand why you wrote your play as you did. You believe that art should be a reflection of life, of one's innermost desires and experiences. I think that is somewhat true, but it is equally true that the theatre is a place where the impossible can happen."

"Like falling in love?"

"Like falling in love and never having to doubt," Loralie said. "You know at the start if a play is a tragedy or a comedy, and that tells you if the work will conclude with a marriage or a death. But that is not reality. That is why love is so hard, Victoria. You must play your part without knowing what manner of play you are in."

Victoria slowly nodded, turning the words over in her mind. Loralie's words always had a way of making everything so clear, but at the moment, she found herself just as lost as she had before they began to speak. "I do not know what to do," Victoria said softly. "Do I pursue him? Do I see if he will come to find me?"

Victoria had not told Lord Bedford—or did she wish to think of him as Thomas now? Regardless, he did not know where she had gone. She had not left him any explanation. She had simply vanished from his life, and unless he spoke to her stepmother, he would never know.

"You must make that choice yourself," Loralie said.

Victoria sighed. "I was afraid you might say something like that."

"Alas," Loralie replied. "I do not think you need to be hasty in your choice if that will make you feel better. If Lord Bedford loves you, he will want to seek you out and make everything right once more."

"Even if he does not know where I went?" Victoria asked softly.

"If he knows you well, he will eventually think of trying the theatre," Loralie said. "He has certainly been here often enough."

Victoria furrowed her brow. She tapped her fingers against the table, mulling the idea over. Victoria felt the impulse to do something. It was unlike her to do nothing, especially when there was so much that she might either gain or lose. But there was a small, romantic part of her—the part of her that had delighted in romances and love stories—that enjoyed the thought of Lord Bedford, of Thomas, swooping into the theatre and saving her.

"That is what you would do?" Victoria guessed. "If it were Lord Worthington instead of my lord. You would wait to see if he came for you?"

"I might," Loralie said. "Surely, if a man loves me, I am worth a visit to the theatre."

"You are."

"As are you," Loralie said. "I promise. Take your time and think about your decision, Victoria. Wait and see if he arrives for you, and if he does, listen to what he has to say."

"But suppose that he does not come for me," Victoria said.

"I do not foresee that happening," Loralie replied. "I think he will, and his love will be greater than anything you have ever dreamed of."

Victoria stared at her friend, stuck somewhere between awe and joy. How did Loralie sound so confident about everything? How was she so assured when Victoria herself doubted that Thomas would really return for her?

Only time would tell. "I will follow your advice," Victoria said.

"Good," Loralie said. "The world would be an infinitely better place if more people listened to what I say."

Victoria hoped that Loralie was right and that Thomas did search for her and try to rekindle the sparks of their love, but if he did not, Victoria had the theatre at least. Perhaps drama was not quite like life.

Maybe Victoria could not have a truly happy ending with a man she adored, but at least she would be able to have an ending that left her content. She would have a family who loved her, and she could be a part of all the magic of the theatre. Those were not small victories.

"And you will be my Lady Constance," Victoria said.

Loralie's face softened. "I will be any character you want me to be, Victoria, as long as the lady is not boring."

"I think you would make even the most boring character into something magical."

Loralie smiled. "For you? Always."

"Well," Victoria said. "I suppose I should not keep you any longer. You have a production to prepare for."

"We have a production to prepare for. I am sorry that it took so much uncertainty for you to truly join us," Loralie said, "nonetheless, I am happy that you are here."

"As am I. I am ready to move forward, whatever that may mean. I feel as though I am ready, at last, to leave my old life behind—including Lady Norwood."

And although everything inside of Victoria still burned for Thomas, this—the theatre and the troupe—were enough. At the moment.