Two Sinful Secrets

by Laurel McKee

  Before anyone could stop her, she pushed away the doctor and surged to her feet, only to crumple to the stage with a cry of pain. William scooped her up in his arms and carefully set her on the throne again.

  “You have wrenched the muscle very badly, Miss St. Claire,” the doctor said sternly. “You must stay off the ankle for at least a week if you don’t want to cause further damage.”

  “A week!” Isabel sobbed. “How can I? The show opens tomorrow. I have no understudy since that wretched Elise ran off in Paris. I must walk right now!”

  “No, Issy,” William said firmly, but Sophia could see how worried he was. He ran his hands through his dark hair, leaving it standing on end. “I won’t allow you to hurt yourself any more. We can put on a revival of last year’s Twelfth Night. You had no role in that one.”

  “But everyone is expecting a new play,” Isabel said. “We have never done Two Gentlemen before.”

  Sophia watched the scene helplessly. This was meant to be her family now, and yet she felt so distant from the scene, so powerless. Then she felt a gentle touch on her hand. She looked up to find Dominic watching her with a small smile on his lips. His eyes narrowed as if he examined her for the first time.

  “Father,” Dominic said. “I think I may have the solution.” He drew Sophia closer to his side. “Sophia can take the part until Issy is better. She has been running the lines with both me and Issy, and she knows it perfectly.”

  Sophia gasped at his words. It was as if the whole scene on the stage froze. Everyone swung around to stare at her.

  “It’s an excellent solution,” Dominic said. “We won’t have to comb London for an actress who knows the part, and she would fit into the costume.”

  Sophia wasn’t sure how she felt at his words. Scared, certainly. Unsure. Excited? Her father-in-law was gaping at her as if she was some alien creature who had just wandered into his theater and he had no idea what to do with her.

  “A Huntington? At the Majestic?” he muttered. “Perhaps she knows the lines. But knowing the words doesn’t mean she can act. You know that, Dominic.”

  “She can act,” Dominic insisted. “And besides, she is so beautiful that, even if she forgets a line or two, no one will care. It would be a sensation.”

  William’s startled stare became speculative. “That is certainly true. But remember what happened when your sister Lily tried to act…”

  “That won’t happen now.” Dominic gently tugged on Sophia’s hand and gave her an encouraging smile. “Show him, Sophia. I know you have learned the part.”

  For a moment, she felt just as frozen as anyone else. The whole situation did not seem real. All she could sense was everyone staring at her, waiting, judging. She was a Huntington among St. Claires, and surely they expected her to fail.

  But Isabel was clapping her hands happily, her tears drying, and Dominic gave Sophia a smile that made her want to try her very hardest. Made her want so much to finally do well at something and please him. Please herself.

  That old feeling of rebellion and yearning for freedom, the feeling that had been inside her for as long as she could remember, soared through her again. Being an actress, publicly treading the boards, would mean the disapproval of her own family forever, but she had never been able to gain their approval anyway. She saw now that, for all her longing, she never could have. She had to make her own life now.

  She held her head high and said, with far more confidence than she felt, “Very well. I will do it.”

  The confidence was still not fully there the next night, when Sophia stood in the wings waiting for her cue. She was running on sheer nerves, having had very little rest since she agreed to go on for Isabel. Dominic and his father had gone over and over her part with her, dragging her around the stage until she was dizzy with it. Then she had gone back to the St. Claire house and listened to Isabel’s lessons on the role as she sat with her injured foot propped on pillows.

  William had still looked despairing despite all Sophia’s efforts, but luckily tonight he had vanished somewhere while she was in her dressing room, and she didn’t have to watch him pace and tear at his hair.

  “You will be fine,” Isabel insisted as she pushed Sophia out of the dressing room with the tip of her new walking stick. “Better than fine. Stupendous! They will love you.”

  Right now, Sophia would happily settle for much less than “love.” She would settle for not having rotten vegetables thrown at her.

  As the seamstress fluttered around her making last-minute adjustments to her costume, Sophia stared out onto the stage. It was a whole new world, seeing it from back there instead of up in a box. Less mysterious but more intriguing. Her husband hardly looked like himself at all as he moved around the stage, amid the scenery that looked like an exotic city in the lights. And she was supposed to be a part of it.

  Don’t let me ruin it, she silently pleaded.

  She glanced up and caught a glimpse of James on the walkway above. He nodded and gave her an encouraging smile, and she smiled back.

  “That is your cue, Mrs. Dominic,” the seamstress whispered.

  Sophia thought she might faint she suddenly felt so dizzy. But her new family was depending on her. She took a deep breath and pretended this was just another Society ball. She had playacted her way through plenty of those. She stepped out onto the stage.

  At first, she was blinded by the bright gaslights and by the knowledge that dozens of eyes were out there and watching her. Dominic moved toward her, his velvet and cloth of gold costume dazzling, and held out his hand to her.

  “Have patience, gentle Julia,” he said, in a voice that was her husband’s and yet not. Deeper, richer.

  And something truly magical happened. It was as if the theater vanished, and she was truly in another world, with the sun beating down on her. She was not herself. She felt such different emotions. She was Julia.

  She took Dominic’s hand and said, “I must, where is no remedy…”

  Dominic had never felt more proud of anyone in his life. And it was for a Huntington. Surely at any moment pigs would go flying over London Bridge.

  He watched his wife as she stood at the center of a bright, chattering group. After the opening night of a play, his father always hosted a small party for important patrons and friends in the Majestic’s sumptuous lobby. It was always a popular soiree, where champagne flowed and everyone tried to hear news about the rest of the Season. And tonight Sophia was the star of it all.

  She took a glass of wine that James offered her and smiled up at his brother in thanks as she listened to something Lord Maltravers was saying to her. She had changed from her costume to a new gown of green satin, and emerald combs sparkled in her black hair. She seemed to sparkle, too, as well she should after what she had achieved tonight.

  His wife was a natural actress. She had claimed the stage as if she had always owned it, and she had shown a perfect intuition when it came to working with the other actors, listening to them and drawing out the emotions of a scene. She had blossomed there, and the quiet, worried-looking Sophia he had seen since that encounter with her cold mother was mercifully gone.

  “She did well enough, I suppose,” he heard his father say in a comically grudging tone.

  Dominic turned to see his parents standing behind him. His mother had her usual serene smile on her face, and she held tight to his father’s arm. Dominic had to grin when he saw the disgruntled look on William’s face. His father would never have wanted a Majestic production to fail, but neither did he yet want to admit that a Huntington had saved it tonight.

  Even if the Huntington in question was now a St. Claire.

  “Now, William dear, you know you are being unfair,” Katherine admonished gently. “Sophia was wonderful. I haven’t seen an actress take so naturally to the stage since our Isabel had her first role. And with only a day’s training.”

  “Hmph,” William said. “If you say so, Katherine.”

  “I do say so, and y
ou know I am right.” Katherine reached for Dominic’s arm with her free hand and drew him to her side as they watched Sophia charm the patrons. “You must be very proud, Dominic.”

  “I am,” he admitted. The evening, which could have gone so wrong, had been a triumph. He never would have imagined it of Sophia Huntington when he first met her in Paris. He had sorely underestimated his wife.

  Sophia glanced across the lobby and caught him watching her. He feared he must have looked rather fierce, because a flicker of doubt dimmed her radiant expression. He quickly smiled at her, and she smiled in return. She raised her hand as if to wave him toward her.

  Then she suddenly froze. Her stare was aimed beyond him and his parents, and her hand fell to her side. James took her arm, his brother’s face suddenly dark as a thundercloud.

  Dominic turned and saw that the lobby doors had opened. A couple stood there, the petite blonde he had seen with Sophia’s mother in the park and a tall, black-haired man who was the mirror image of Sophia herself. And just behind them was Lord Huntington, watching the party with his usual cold, superior sneer on his face.

  “Dominic, what is it?” his mother said. She looked toward the doors, too. “Who are those people?”

  “Surely that is Lord Edward Huntington,” William said. His father was not easily surprised, yet he sounded astounded that yet another Huntington was at his party. “Mrs. Dominic’s brother. And I do think the other man is the Duke of Carston’s cousin. I have never met him, but he has quite the reputation around London. He did not attend the play. What is he doing here now?”

  Dominic was already turning toward his wife. He was afraid he knew all too well what Hammond was doing there.

  From the Diary of Mary St. Claire Huntington

  We are ruined. I can hardly believe it even as I write these words. John rode in today, looking gray and haggard, and I have never seen anyone so angry. He has locked me in my room, raving about my family and how they led him into the loss of so much money. But how can that be? Nick and my father were as deceived as anyone! I cannot cease crying, but he will not come to me. He will not listen.

  What will become of me now?

  Chapter Twenty-four

  What is that bastard doing here?” James said tightly. His hands curled into fists.

  “I’m not sure,” Sophia answered, staring at Lord Hammond in cold shock. The glow from her moments on the stage was fading fast. She looped her hand around her brother-in-law’s arm to keep him at her side, in hopes he wouldn’t dash off and do something rash and hotheaded. Not here, in the St. Claires’ own theater, with everyone watching. She wanted to try to do right by her new family, not cause them even more trouble.

  But what was Hammond doing here again? And with her brother Edward and his new wife, too. What game did he play? She had hoped her marriage would send him off after other prey, but now she feared that had been a mistake. Maybe it had only strengthened his resolve.

  “Come with me now, James,” she said, as quietly and calmly as she could. “No matter what he’s doing here, we don’t need to engage him.”

  “I didn’t cheat in that card game in Paris, no matter what anyone says,” James said fiercely. He looked down at her, and his eyes glowed with a hot fire. “I’ve done some stupid things, I admit, but never that.”

  “I know,” Sophia said, and truly she did know. James would never do such a thing. He was young and quick-tempered, but he had the same personal code of honor his brother did. It was all part of Hammond’s game.

  “Come with me,” she said. “I need to find Dominic, and I don’t want to walk across this room alone.”

  James gave a reluctant nod, as she knew he would. He wouldn’t leave her alone in the crowd when Lord Hammond was somewhere near. She held on to his arm as they made their way across the crowded lobby. She smiled and exchanged a few words with the people who stopped her as they passed, and she held on to James the whole time. She felt how tense he was and saw the way he scanned the crowd, but he stayed with her.

  And they didn’t encounter Lord Hammond. But they did meet Sophia’s brother.

  “Sophia,” he said casually, giving her a quick peck on the cheek, as if he had seen her only last week. “You’re looking grand. It was quite amazing to see my little sister up on the stage tonight. You did an admirable enough job, I daresay.”

  Sophia had to laugh. Her brother had never been much of a theatergoer, so she was sure he wouldn’t know an “admirable” performance if it slapped him on the face. Even now his gaze was drifting away from her to study the other women in the room.

  But his wife was beaming with pleasure, her cheeks as pink as her ruffled gown. “It really was such an enjoyable play, Mrs. St. Claire,” she said shyly. “Will we see you often at the Majestic?”

  “I am not sure,” Sophia answered. “I am just playing understudy for my sister-in-law, who was, sadly, injured. But I am glad you enjoyed the play.”

  She chatted with Edward’s wife about some of the latest London news, the new style of hats, and Court happenings with the queen and her family, as James and Edward pretended they were somewhere else. Sophia surreptitiously kept her eye on the crowd around them until, just as she had feared, Lord Hammond made his appearance. As always, he had a lady on his arm, a beautiful young redhead dressed in widow’s black but dripping with diamonds.

  Suddenly she felt an arm slide gently around her shoulders, and she half-turned to find that Dominic had come to her side. He gave her a small, reassuring smile, and she felt calmer in an instant, even as Hammond came closer to them.

  “Ah, the happy newlywed couple,” Hammond said with an affable smile. His eyes were cold as he looked at Sophia, and she was even more glad to have Dominic close to her, holding her up. Edward and his wife made their excuses and moved away to find some wine. “Allow me to be among the first to offer my best wishes. I am so glad your dear brother and his wife invited me here tonight, Mrs. St. Claire, so I could congratulate you in person.”

  “That is very kind of you,” Dominic said smoothly. “Considering our last meeting at Madame Brancusi’s was not so cordial.”

  Sophia sensed how stiff James was on her other side, as if he held himself on a tight rein. She only hoped his control lasted.

  Hammond waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “Bygones should be bygones, should they not? Young Mr. St. Claire here was in his cups, and I’m sure he has learned his lesson now. Unlike others.” He glanced around the crowded lobby. “Your father has such a success here with his theater. The Majestic is always the talk of London. Why, they even say the queen has talked of taking a permanent box. I’m sure the new Mrs. St. Claire will be a great asset here.”

  “She already is,” Dominic said.

  “Of course. I only hope the two of you, and your family, will be very happy. And that you will never come to regret your marriage. That can be so easy to do in hastily contracted unions.” As if he had said what he intended to say, Hammond gave them a short nod and turned to walk away, the black-clad lady’s arm linked in his. They vanished together into the crowd.

  “Well, that was short and simple,” Dominic said.

  “The bastard,” James growled. “What did he mean by all that?”

  Sophia nodded, but the bright evening was dimmed like the footlights at the end of a play, and she knew she had to find a way to keep Hammond away from her new family and this theater that they loved so much.

  The Final Diary Entry of Mary St. Claire Huntington

  John is sending me away. I am ill and fevered, yet still he will not listen to my pleas. Dear Lord, what am I to do now? I still love him so very much.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  The Devil’s Fancy was practically empty. For the third night in a row.

  Sophia tapped her fan against her palm as she walked through the rooms that were so very quiet. Quiet, when they should be crowded and filled with laughter.

  Dominic had said he was not worried on the first night things w
ere empty, the night after Lord Hammond appeared at theater and rumors were flying about the gossipy tidbits in the newspapers. Dominic was caught up in the work of the theater, though, and didn’t see what she saw tonight as she tried to oversee the club for him. Isabel had recovered and returned to work, and Sophia didn’t have a new role yet, though William had promised her one.

  But there was little to oversee at the club, even though the manager had suddenly quit. A few rakish old stalwarts playing cards; no one dancing. Surely it was only a matter of time before the receipts fell off at the theater, too. And she realized that, despite all her hopes in marrying Dominic, she had overplayed her hand. She had underestimated the determination—and the power—of an opponent like Lord Hammond.

  Being deprived of what he wanted—her—had only made him want it all the more. It had made the game more exciting for him, the opposite of what she had wanted. And now she had given him new pawns in her husband and his family.

  Sophia turned to survey the room again. She didn’t know that this sudden fall-off in business was Hammond’s fault, of course, but some instinct told her that it had to be. And now she needed her own battle plan, a way to fight back.

  “Mrs. St. Claire,” one of the footmen said. He came up to her holding out a silver tray. Resting on it was a single note, a heavy folded sheet of expensive stationery sealed with red wax. “This just arrived for you.”

  Sophia’s hands turned cold. She reached for the letter as she would for a snake, taking it carefully between her gloved fingertips. “Thank you,” she said. She broke the seal and scanned the short missive for a signature.

  Hammond. Of course.

  My dear Mrs. St. Claire—I would imagine you are having a rather quiet evening. Such a shame at a lovely establishment like your husband’s, but such lulls can easily be remedied, along with so much else. If you would like my advice on how to proceed, please call on me at the Hotel Carlyle. Enclosed is my card with the direction and room number.