Chapter 17

May 1, 1802

Theatre Royal Haymarket

The opening night of Romeo and Juliet starring Mr. Mylchreest as Romeo drew a crowd of hundreds, given the growing notoriety of the handsome actor.

That morning Emily had read aloud a report that predicted Mylchreest would remove his shirt. "I cannot wait!" she squealed.

One of the underfootmen had cleverly managed to buy tickets in the pit, winning his first evening in Emily's company.

"Are you sure you don't wish to accompany me in the box?" Torie asked. "I shall be chaperoned by the Duchess of Huntington,

but you are more than welcome to join us."

Emily scoffed. "With all of you sitting up there looking so high and mighty? The pit only costs six shillings, and it's so

much fun. Everyone is talking, of course, and sometimes throwing veg, though no one would dare throw anything at him ."

"Him" was Mylchreest, the talk of London.

Torie waited until she was in the center of the crowded theater entry before she removed the swath of silver silk around her

shoulders and revealed her French gown. After that, it was hard to say whether startled faces had more to do with her costume

or the man beside her.

Ranks of boxes covered the walls of Haymarket; Dominic had taken one in the very best position, on the lower level close to the stage where anyone looking to the front would see them. She seated herself and saw with satisfaction that the dot-lace was sparkling before she flipped open a fan of mother-of-pearl inlaid with silver.

A marquess and his wife sat to their left. The marchioness was one of Torie's friends; she waggled her eyebrows and cried,

"Ooh, la la!" To the other side was an elderly couple; the lady was apparently offended by Torie's gown, as she made a point

of turning her head away. When her husband showed no signs of following suit, she forced him to move his chair until both

their backs were to the stage.

When Dominic sat down, a ripple of excitement went through the theater. Torie glanced at him from behind her fan. He was dressed

impeccably in black, with touches of white to indicate that he was now in half mourning.

"Are you wearing a different rapier?" she asked.

"Yes," Dominic said, drawing out the blade.

"It's sparkling!" Torie exclaimed.

"Diamond-cut navy-blue glass," Dominic said, turning the hilt so she could see.

"You thought my gown was garish?" She couldn't help laughing. Before he could respond, a brisk knock sounded on the door to the box, and

the Duchess of Huntington and her husband surged into the small enclosure.

"Hello!" the duchess boomed.

Torie jumped to her feet and curtsied. "Your Grace!"

"We've finished the steam engine tour and are taking a few days in London to relax," the duchess said, dropping into a seat.

"How gracious of you to join us," Torie said.

"Lots of fool gossip going about saying this and that," Her Grace commented with disdain. She pulled out a lorgnette and surveyed the theater. "Course, now they've seen you in that gown, they'll know precisely why Kelbourne—and any other unattached male—would be lucky to marry you."

Torie straightened her back, suddenly wishing there were a few whalebones between her breasts and the eyes of the audience.

"I like it," the duchess said. "Wouldn't suit me, of course. I couldn't do without stays."

"I couldn't wear more than a small corset," Torie confirmed, thinking that perhaps she should take up the duchess's offer

to bring the twins to the country. It would be refreshing for them to spend time with someone who scorned a Prohibited List

of conversational topics.

"This play is Shakespeare at his most ridiculous, wouldn't you say?"

"I don't know more than its reputation," Torie admitted.

"That's right, you don't read." Her Grace glanced over. "Take that expression off your face, girl. Do you think I bother with

feeling belittled just because I can't see without a lorgnette?"

"No," Torie said.

"I'll give you a sense of the plot, so you can follow along. Two fool adolescents meet and fall in love while dancing. A ball

can be dangerous for headstrong youngsters. I'll watch my gals carefully once they reach that age, not to mention my eldest,

Silvester. I've an inkling that he could be as idiotic as Romeo when it comes to women. Entirely too charming for his own

good."

"I shall do the same with the twins," Torie said.

"You'll have to. Your Florence will be trouble. At any rate, the boy ends up killing the girl's relative. Then there's a lot of crying and carrying on. She pretends to be dead, ends up in a tomb. He kills himself, and so does she."

Torie turned to her other side. "Dom, did you know that this play is a welter of violent deaths?"

" Welter. Good word," the duchess grunted. "Despite your illiteracy, I expect your vocabulary is better than most. Likewise, I can

see better through my lorgnette than other people do with both eyes. People don't bother to look carefully, because it's so

easy for them."

Torie had a feeling that she was making a friend, perhaps her first friend after Clara—though Dom had become a friend as well.

She gave the duchess a beaming smile.

Her Grace squinted through her lorgnette. "Can't imagine why all London isn't at your feet."

"A duke was," Dominic said from her other side.

"Just look how they're craning their necks now," the duchess said, waving her lorgnette over the audience. "There's a fool

rumor going around that Sir William owes Kelbourne here a gambling debt, and that's why he's handing over another daughter."

Torie sucked in a breath of air.

Dominic's warm fingers curled tightly around hers under the edge of the box, where no one could see. "I would never take a

wager from Sir William. In fact, I never gamble."

"Neither do I," His Grace put in. "Idiotic way to lose money."

"If you must lose money, why not throw it away on a steam engine?" his duchess agreed.

That started a lively discussion of the future of travel. Torie thought that the entire United Kingdom would be connected by steel rails in a decade; Dominic was more cautious. "A network of canals already exists," he pointed out. "I believe in steam, but in addition to current means of travel."

"Locomotives will be faster than canal boats," Her Grace told him. "Once we solve a few more mechanical problems."

By the time the curtain rose, Torie was certain that everyone in the theater had registered that she and Dominic were seated

together, in company with the famous inventive couple who were so rarely seen in London.

Within one act, it was clear that she and her fiancé would not agree on the quality of the production.

Torie was swept away by the beauty of the language; Dominic was irritated by the bungling portrayal of sword fighting in the

first act.

The curtain fell after a glorious bedroom scene in which Mylchreest strode around the stage without his shirt. Dominic and

the Duke of Huntington immediately turned to each other and began tearing apart the tragically bad swordsmanship on display.

For Torie, the only tragedy had happened on stage. She sat quietly, trying to stop herself from crying.

In the end, her public kiss with Dominic happened naturally. He turned to her and frowned, seeing her eyes brimming with tears.

He ran a thumb under one of her eyes and bent toward her inquiringly.

"Mercutio was my favorite character," she told him.

"Even though he remained fully clothed?" Dominic asked teasingly.

"‘I talk of dreams, which are the children of an idle brain, begot of nothing,'" she quoted. Another tear escaped. "He was so funny and brave while he was dying."

Dominic frowned. "I didn't catch it. What did he say?"

"‘Ask for me tomorrow, and you will find me a grave man.'"

"I like that pun on ‘grave,'" the duchess said, rising. "We're off to greet a few friends."

"You quoted those lines word for word," Dominic observed.

Torie shrugged. "I have that sort of memory."

"The bedroom scene was very erotic." He bent his head and gave her a feather-soft kiss on the cheek, which was improper enough.

Awash in glorious love language, Torie turned her lips and caught his mouth in an open kiss that could never be mistaken for

a peck from ladylike pursed lips.

When she finally drew away, flushed and breathing heavily, the first thing she heard was Dominic's rumbling laugh. "That will put paid to those absurd rumors."

"I forgot," Torie gasped. Looking around, she thought every eye in the theater was on them. People down in the pit were craning

their necks as if one of Lunardi's great air balloons was drifting over the audience.

"I'm the luckiest man in London, and now they all know it," Dominic said with satisfaction.

Torie dropped her hand below the edge of the box and took his hand. It curled around hers like a bulwark against the world's

contempt.