Because You're Mine (Capital Theatre #2)(10)

Madeline had never seen a man undressing before. As each button was released, more gleaming muscle was revealed. Shocked, she edged toward the door. “Mr. Scott, I…believe I should go now.…”

“You're going to leave the Capital?” he inquired coldly, shrugging out of the limp garment.

Hastily Madeline lowered her eyes, but the image of his broad, na**d chest was permanently seared into her brain. “I will stay if the duchess allows it.”

“Then stay if you choose, but you'll pay for it. I'm going to make your life hell. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mr. Scott,” she whispered, fleeing the dressing room as he began to unfasten his trousers.

Logan paused as the door closed, willing his fierce arousal to recede. Tactfully George averted his eyes, scooping up the discarded shirt. “Will there be anything else you require, sir?” he murmured.

A bucket of ice-cold water would have been useful, not to mention a drink. But Logan shook his head and turned away, continuing to undress. The manservant straightened a few articles in the dressing room and left quietly.

Facing the mirror, Logan sighed, trying to bring his thoughts to the work ahead…but his mind was filled with the girl. Madeline.

Who was she, and why in God's name did she want to work at the Capital? She was obviously too well-bred for such a place—she had no business associating with the rough theater crowd. What had Julia been thinking to hire her? He dearly wished he could corner his comanager and wring an explanation from her, but there was no time. He had a performance to finish, and nothing was more important than giving the audience at the Capital exactly what it wanted.

Somehow Madeline made her way back to her vantage place in the wings. She put her hands to her hot cheeks, certain they had been branded a permanent scarlet. Had she been wrong to insist on remaining at the Capital in spite of Mr. Scott's displeasure? She was certain this was not the way to go about seducing a man.

Why did he dislike her? She had always found it easy to make friends. She supposed she was not the kind of woman Mr. Scott preferred. How difficult would it be to change his feelings toward her?…how long would it take? Troubled, she stared into the darkened backstage area, where actors waited patiently amidst the set pieces.

The curtain rose, and the story of the beleaguered young lovers resumed. It was a testament to Mr. Scott's talent that Madeline soon forgot everything but the character he played.

After an intricate maze of plot twists, the villain finally realized that even if he succeeded in marrying the beautiful girl, he would never win her love. Assuming the part of an anonymous benefactor, he helped them elope with each other, never letting them know that he was the one responsible for their happiness. Mr. Scott played the role without a touch of self-pity, never letting down the cynical mask he wore, but somehow his rigid control let the audience know that his heart was broken. The play's ending was satisfyingly bittersweet.

Hearty shouts and claps of enthusiasm filled the theater, persisting until the actors had returned to the stage to receive their due. Scott was greeted with the most applause, which he accepted with a faint smile and bow. The program for the next night was announced, and the curtain closed for the last time, despite the fact that the audience clamored for more.

Madeline took care to slip away before Mr. Scott saw her again. She caught sight of his dark head backstage just as he was surrounded by a crowd of admirers. They all wanted to be near him. Sighing, Madeline went to retrieve her coat from the duchess's office.

“Madeline.” She looked up to see the Duchess of Leeds. “Did you enjoy the play?”

Madeline struggled to find the right words. “Oh, it was the most wonderful thing I've ever experienced!”

“My goodness,” the duchess said, laughing at her enthusiasm.

“No wonder they call Mr. Scott a living legend. He…he…” Madeline paused, not knowing how to describe her reaction to him.

“Yes, I know,” the duchess replied, a smile remaining or her lips.

Madeline's exhilaration faded suddenly. “I'm afraid Mr. Scott saw me backstage tonight. He still objects to me. He made that very clear.”

Julia's brows lifted in surprise. “That isn't like him. He's never taken issue with anyone I've hired. I don't see why—” She broke off, staring at Madeline with a perplexed expression. “Don't worry, my dear. I'll meet with him tomorrow morning before rehearsal, and everything will be resolved.”

“I hope so, Your Grace.” Madeline paused. “I want to work at the Capital very badly.”

“Then you shall,” the duchess assured her. “Unless Mr. Scott can produce a very good reason to the contrary—and I expect that will be very unlikely.”

Two

Logan stood at the back of the Capital Theatre's carpentry shop and regarded the double flats critically. The newly constructed stage pieces, made of canvas stretched over ribbed timber frames, would soon be sent to the scene painters.

“We've never made ones this large before,” Logan commented to the pair of carpenters who had propped up the hinged flats for his inspection. “How will they be supported?”

“We thought it best to weight the braces in back,” the main carpenter, Robbie Cleary, replied. “That should keep them steady during the performances.”