Somewhere I'll Find You (Capital Theatre #1)(26)

It would have been easier to disregard Savage if not for the disarming hint of vulnerability she had seen…the gentle way he had touched her, the startling admission that he wanted to marry for love someday. Was there more to be discovered beneath his guarded exterior? She could never take the chance of finding out. It filled her with a strange despair, thinking of what had transpired between them. She had made it clear that she would not see him again, and she knew in her heart that it was for the best. But why did it feel as if she had lost something infinitely precious?

“Here you are,” came Arlyss's murmur, and the petite actress passed her a cup of hot tea.

Julia accepted it gratefully and sipped the sweet, bracing liquid.

“He didn't let you sleep a wink, did he?” Arlyss asked in delight. “I've never seen you so exhausted. Was he very good, Jessica?”

Julia gave her a weary scowl. “I wasn't with him—not in that way.”

“Of course not,” said Mr. Kerwin, a portly actor in his sixties who considered himself a sophisticated man of the world. He excelled at playing anxious fathers, harassed husbands, drunkards, and buffoons, always with a lopsided charm that endeared him to the audience. “Never admit a thing, my dear—your private life should remain just that.” He punctuated the comment with a friendly wink.

Logan's voice, dripping with sarcasm, intruded on the budding conversation. “Mrs. Wentworth, would you care to join us? I have a page of notes concerning your mistakes of last night's performance. I'm certain you'll want to hear them.”

Julia nodded and sipped more tea, wondering why Logan seemed so tense this morning. He should be pleased—the performance had been well-received by the audience and critics, and she had done her part for the Capital by attending the promised dinner with Lord Savage. What more did he want?

Before Logan could proceed with his reading of the morning's notes, the greenroom door opened and the hesitant face of one of the company's property-men appeared. “Begging pardon,” he said apologetically to the room at large, and his gaze flew to Julia. “A parcel was just delivered for you, Mrs. Wentworth. The boy who delivered it said it should be brought to you right away.”

Intrigued, Julia gestured for the small, plainly wrapped box in his hand, and he brought it to her. Mindful of Logan's gathering scowl, the property man vanished quickly. Julia was sorely tempted to open the package, but she set it aside to be unwrapped later, knowing it would annoy Logan to have further interruptions of the meeting. The assembled company stared intently at the mysterious box, completely ignoring Logan's impatient rustling of his notes.

“Well?” Logan finally said to Julia, his mouth twisting sardonically. “You may as well open the damned thing. It's apparent that no one will pay attention to the work at hand until you do.”

Arlyss leaned over Julia's shoulder, her eyes bright with interest, her brown curls fairly dancing with energy. “It's from him, isn't it?”

Cautiously Julia unwrapped the box and discovered a folded note inside. Everyone leaned closer, as if they all expected she would read it aloud. Defensively she held the note close to her midriff and scanned it silently.

Madam—

I am told this once belonged to the gifted actress Mrs. Jordan. It deserves to be worn by someone with the grace and beauty to display it properly. Please accept this token with the understanding that no obligation comes with it, save that you enjoy it.

Your servant,

Damon, Lord Savage

Cautiously Julia lifted a small blue velvet pouch from the box, and dropped its contents into her hand. Arlyss gave an audible gasp, while Mr. Kerwin made a rumbling noise of approval in his throat. Unable to resist, the group of actors gathered around to view the offering.

In the center of Julia's palm was the most exquisite brooch she had ever seen, a tiny bouquet of roses with glittering ruby petals and emerald leaves. She could well believe that Mrs. Dora Jordan, the consort of the king's brother so many years ago, would have owned such a magnificent piece. Although Julia had been offered jewelry and gifts from many would-be suitors—and she had refused all of it—no one had ever given her something so elegant. Dumbfounded, she stared at the small treasure in her palm. “I…I'll have to return it,” she said with difficulty, and there was an immediate chorus of disapproval.

“Why should you?”

“Keep it, lass, there's your future to consider—”

“With his fortune, the marquess could buy you a thousand more and never miss a shilling!”

“Don't be hasty,” Arlyss urged. “Before you do anything, think about it for a day or two.”

“All right, that's enough,” Logan said, tugging impatiently at a lock of his burnished russet hair. “There are far better things to occupy us than Mrs. Wentworth's conquest.”

Obediently the players returned to their seats. Julia closed her fingers over the jeweled pin, her mind racing. Of course she must return it—she had never accepted a gift from a man before. In spite of his words to the contrary, she knew that Lord Savage would expect a favor in return. He was not the kind of man to give something for nothing. But a strange thought came to mind. He was her husband; why shouldn't she take it from him? Their long-ago marriage had deprived her of so many things. Surely she deserved this small compensation. The brooch was so beautiful, so enticing, and it suited her perfectly.