Because You're Mine (Capital Theatre #2)(15)

“The problem is, I've already made a mistake. I should have been mysterious and aloof…and instead I've made my intentions all too clear.”

“He knows that you desire him?” Mrs. Florence asked, seeming amused.

“Yes, and he's made it clear that he wants nothing to do with me.”

“Well, your straightforward approach wasn't necessarily a mistake,” Mrs. Florence commented. “One can assume that a man like Scott is entirely familiar with women who make subtle and sophisticated overtures. Perhaps you were right to throw him off balance.”

“Not only did I throw him off balance,” Madeline said sheepishly, “I ensured that he got stabbed in the process.”

“You did what?” Mrs. Florence asked, startled, and Madeline told her about the fencing accident. The elderly woman regarded her with a mixture of laughter and disbelief. “I'll say this, child…you've presented me with a challenge. Let me think for a moment.”

Madeline waited while the old woman contemplated the problem.

“It's a pity you have no acting skills,” Mrs. Florence said. “The place to approach a man like Scott is on the stage, where he's most at ease. I would suspect that he never lets down his guard except while he's acting. It is only during those moments of vulnerability that you would be able to slip past his defenses.”

“Perhaps I could offer to prompt some of the actors and actresses when they are learning their lines,” Madeline said hesitantly.

“Yes, that's an excellent idea.”

“But Mrs. Florence…what if I do manage to catch Mr. Scott in one of those ‘vulnerable moments’? What should I say to him?”

“Let your instincts guide you. Just bear in mind that you mustn't act lovestruck. Simply make it clear that you're available and willing…that you're offering pleasure with no responsibility. No man in the world could resist.”

Madeline nodded obediently.

“There's one more thing,” Mrs. Florence added, regarding her speculatively. “You'll need to dress for the part. Although you appear to have an attractive figure, one can hardly tell in those missish gowns.”

A resigned smile crossed Madeline's face. “I'm afraid that can't be helped, ma'am. I can't afford a new gown.”

“I'll give it some consideration,” the elderly woman assured her. “I'll think of something.”

Madeline smiled, admiring Mrs. Florence's crafty energy and enthusiasm. “I'm glad I asked for your advice, ma'am.”

“So am I, Maddy. This is the most excitement I've had in years, taking part in your scheme. With my help, you'll lead Mr. Scott to your bed like a lamb to the slaughter.”

“I hope so,” Madeline replied. “However…I don't imagine he'll be anything like a lamb.”

“That's for you to discover, my dear. In my experience, men are often different in bed than they are out of it. Actors are the most unpredictable lovers of all. One never knows when they're playing a part.” She turned a placid countenance toward the fire, plotting silently, while the maid brought Madeline a supper tray.

After the servant had left, Madeline spoke again. “Mrs. Florence, is there any way of knowing what to expect?”

The elderly woman looked at her questioningly, having lost the thread of the conversation.

“About how a man might be as a lover,” Madeline clarified.

“I think you'll be able to tell a great deal from the way he kisses you.” Suddenly Mrs. Florence seemed amused, and she toyed with a loose strand of her silvery-peach hair. “In fact, that's a very good idea. Why don't you surprise Mr. Scott with a kiss? That's a bold, stylish ploy. It will certainly intrigue him.”

“But how?…when?”

“I'll leave that to your imagination, Maddy. You'll find an appropriate moment.”

Surprise him with a kiss. Mrs. Florence's mischievous suggestion hovered in Madeline's thoughts during the next day. There would never be an appropriate time to do such a thing. If only she had her older sister Justine's great beauty or Althea's cleverness. But she was terribly ordinary, and Mr. Scott was…unreachable.

She saw the effect he had on others, the crowds of aristocrats who gathered around his dressing room door after a performance, the actors and actresses who sought his advice. Everyone wanted something from him. Even me, Madeline thought in sheepish discomfort. She wanted the most personal service of all from him, and with any luck he would never know why.

In an effort to learn more about him, Madeline approached Arlyss Barry while she was having tea alone in the greenroom. Arlyss was a fountain of information. She knew intimate details about everyone in the company and loved to gossip about them all.

“You'd like to know more about Mr. Scott?” Arlyss asked, popping a sugared biscuit into her mouth. Although Mrs. Lyttleton grumbled about Arlyss's overly voluptuous figure, it seemed that Arlyss couldn't control her own sweet tooth. “So would we all, Maddy. Mr. Scott is the most fascinating man I've ever met, and the most difficult to know. He's fanatical about his privacy. He never invites anyone to his home. To my knowledge no one in the company has ever visited him there, except for the duchess.”

Madeline frowned. “Were Mr. Scott and the duchess ever—”