Because You're Mine (Capital Theatre #2)(6)

“I'm here because…” Madeline met his gaze again, and all of a sudden there seemed to be no choice except to declare her intentions in a bold, straightforward manner that wasn't like her at all. She had to get his attention somehow, to separate herself from the numbers of women who must throw themselves at him all the time. “I want to be your next lover.”

Clearly caught off-guard, Scott stared at her as if she had spoken in a foreign language. He took his time about replying. “I don't have affairs with girls like you.”

“Is it my age?”

There was a flare of laughter in his eyes…not friendly, but mocking. “Among other things.”

“I'm older than I look,” she said swiftly.

“Miss Ridley.” He shook his head in apparent disbelief. “You have a unique way of introducing yourself to a man. I'm flattered by your interest. However, I wouldn't touch you if my life depended on it. Now if you'll excuse me—”

“Perhaps you need more time to think about my proposal,” Madeline said. “In the meantime, I would appreciate it if you would consider giving me a job. I have many skills that could be useful in the theater.”

“I'm certain you do,” he said dryly. “But none that I require.”

“I'm educated in literature and history. I also speak fluent French, and I can sketch and paint quite well. I would be willing to sweep, mop, scrub…anything that needs to be done.”

“I'm light-headed, Miss Ridley. I'm not certain if it's from loss of blood or sheer amazement…but in any case, you've been quite entertaining.” Scott got to his feet, the color having returned to his face. “I'll have someone recompense you for the loss of your scarf.”

“But I—” she began to argue.

A small crowd of people swarmed onto the stage as various members of the theater company were alerted to the accident. “It's nothing,” Scott said, seeming annoyed by their worried exclamations. “No, I don't need help walking. There's nothing wrong with my legs.” He went toward the greenroom, surrounded by carpenters, musicians, painters, dancers, and actors, all of them determined to help him.

Madeline stared after him. What a remarkable man he was. He seemed like royalty, although most monarchs and princes probably weren't blessed with his good looks and magnificent build. She was positive that Scott was the right man to have an affair with. Surely it would be nothing less than extraordinary: a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

True, he hadn't seemed overly eager to bed her…but she wasn't finished yet. She would wear him down with her persistence. She would devote every minute of every day to making herself indispensable to him. She would become whatever he wanted in a woman.

Thoughtfully Madeline went toward the wing, where broken china lay scattered next to the overturned prop table. There was probably endless work to be done at the Capital Theatre. She wondered if there was someone else she could approach about a job. After straightening the table, she began to pick up a few shards of china.

A woman's light, melodious voice drifted to her from a few yards away. “Be careful, child. You'll cut yourself. I'll have someone sweep that up later.”

Madeline placed the china on the table and turned to behold a golden-haired woman several years older than herself. The woman was stunningly beautiful, with an aristocratic face, blue-green eyes, and a warm smile. She was also several months pregnant. “Hello,” Madeline said, approaching her curiously. “Are you an actress?”

“I have been in the past,” the woman admitted readily. “However, I'm currently limited to the position of comanager, until after the baby's birth.”

“Oh…” Madeline's eyes widened as she realized that the woman could only be the Duchess of Leeds, the well-known actress who had been paired on stage with Mr. Scott in everything from lighthearted comedy to Shakespearean tragedy. Although the Duke of Leeds was reputedly quite wealthy, he apparently did not choose to stand in the way of his wife's love of the theater and her flourishing career. “Your Grace, it's an honor to make your acquaintance. Please forgive the trouble I've caused—”

“I wouldn't worry,” the duchess reassured her. “Accidents happen all the time around here.” She stared at Madeline speculatively. “I believe I overheard you asking Mr. Scott for employment.”

“Yes, Your Grace.” Madeline blushed, wondering what else the woman had overheard, but her expression was bland and guileless.

“Come with me to my office…what is your name?”

“Madeline Ridley.”

“Well, Madeline, you're not the usual kind of girl who comes looking for work in the theater district. Well-dressed, obviously educated…have you run away from home, child?”

“Oh, no,” Madeline said. It wasn't strictly a lie, since she had run away from school, not home, but she still felt uncomfortable at the deception. She struggled to word her reply carefully. “Circumstances have made it necessary for me to find work somewhere…and I hoped it could be here.”

“Why the Capital?” the duchess asked, leading her backstage to the administrative offices.

“I've always had an interest in the theater, and I've heard and read a great deal about the Capital. I've never actually attended a play.”