by Laura Hogg
* * * *
That night, Lord Cheltham pulled up in front of the small house that Raphael said he would be visiting. The lad called on friends unknown to him.
The Viscount jumped from the seat of his carriage and made his way to the front door, having made a previous appointment to meet him. He wanted to see his friend and talk about Miss Moore. He chuckled when he realized that he had basically leapt up the steps. As he stood waiting to be greeted at the door, he pondered his odd behavior of late. The only explanation, he mused, is that I'm in love.
When Raphael stood before him, the Viscount grabbed his arm.
"Raphael, I saw her!” he said gleefully. “I saw her again!” He believed at that moment that he was talking to a brother or a best friend. He wanted to share his good cheer with someone who knew Relief and could appreciate his heightened feelings for her.
Raphael returned his good cheer. “So you have!"
"She told you?"
"Of course."
"What did she say? I must know, man!"
Raphael smiled.
"She believed that your intentions were less than honorable."
The Viscount's smile faded. “What?"
"Were they?"
He frowned. “What if they were?” He resented that.
Now Raphael frowned, deeply.
"You were not the first gentleman to attempt to induce her with charm to your cause."
"She must have encountered quite a few, and I would wager they all had convincing things to say to her.” He was not amused.
"Yes, Cheltham."
"Miss Moore might be wise to distrust men. They do only want one thing,” he said, annoyed, and with a bit of sarcasm. I am not among the group with less than honorable intentions.
"She is not stupid.” Raphael touched his fingertips to his lips, and then dropped them abruptly.
The Viscount narrowed his eyes. There is something familiar ... He looked at his young friend. It chilled him, but he dismissed the weird feelings.
"What if I wanted her too, Raphael? She is a beautiful woman."
"You are like all the rest.” Raphael stretched an arm up and out and reached back to scratch the back of his head.
"Maybe I'm not."
"If you are not, then say so, to me right now.” Raphael lowered his chin and gazed with earnestness at him.
"You, Raphael, are close to her, and you suspect my motivations."
"Yes.” Raphael lifted a finger and wagged it flirtatiously in front of him.
Was that—? No it was just mischief that marked the lad's actions. The Viscount wondered at Raphael's playful behavior. It was almost ... feminine, but he told himself that the boy was just young.
"It would be pointless to say either way, lad.” The Viscount's shoulders slumped.
"I see.” Raphael frowned.
The Viscount observed Raphael carefully, causing him to take a big step back and look down in a discomfited way.
"Come along, Raphael. I seek adventure this night.” He hoped to dispel his own irritation.
Raphael followed him out the door and into his carriage.
"Where are we going?"
"Just riding leisurely about town for a bit first, lad.” He felt contemplative.
They rode around a long while mostly in silence, and when a late hour fell upon them, Lord Cheltham noticed that they arrived in the vicinity of The Theatre Royal. A new portico greeted them at the front entrance on Catherine Street.
Raphael eyed him with surprise.
"What are we doing here?"
Lord Cheltham shrugged. He stopped his carriage, jumped down onto the street, and Raphael followed him towards the entrance of the theatre.
A short, squat man greeted them with a suspicious gaze. “Why are you here?"
"Do you work for the theatre?” Lord Cheltham inquired.
"I do, my lord."
A dash of pride coursed through the Viscount. It was nice to be recognized as quality. He pulled some coins out of a pouch hanging at his side. “Can you give us access? We want to admire the theatre when it holds no audience. I intend to invest."
The man's eyes widened and he gave them a knowing grin and took the money. He promptly opened the door and let them in. “You have one hour, and then I lock the door.” He parted, counting his money.
They entered the building and looked around its vast spaces. It was a beautiful theatre, rebuilt eight years earlier after the old one had burned down. Now it held a little over three thousand people when full, more than five hundred fewer people than before. Fewer seats added a tiny touch of intimacy compared to the old theatre, even though it remained large.
"It's dim and empty now, peaceful. I saw Miss Moore here one night, in the loveliest green gown I had ever seen. I couldn't tell you one line from the performance that occurred. I want to envision her here again."
The Viscount sat down on the great stage with his feet hanging over the orchestra's pit. He took in a deep breath. Raphael leapt up using his hands and landed on his feet in a crouched position.
"What are you thinking about, Cheltham?” He stood up and twirled around. “I might have been an ac-tor,” he said, exaggerating the syllables in the word “actor” for effect.
The Viscount grinned sadly. “Her.” He reflected and pointed. “She sat there."
Whirling elegantly, his arm still suspended in the air, Raphael glanced in the direction the Viscount had indicated and placed his feet firmly on the stage floor.
"What is it that troubles you, Cheltham?"
The tenderness in the boy's voice took him by suprise The lad obviously cared about him.
The Viscount looked up at his friend. “I do not understand it, Raphael. I have to have her; it's as if we were meant to be."
Raphael went to the edge of the stage and walked along it, balancing with arms out. “Then once you have her?” He lifted up one leg, bent it and then carefully turned around and walked as if on a cliff, one foot slowly in front of the other.
The Viscount squinted and grinned, amused. “I will express my passion for her, my affection and respect."
"Lust.” Raphael leaped. The Viscount huffed, fearing his friend would take a fall, but to his relief, the lad landed quite expertly.
"Yes, Raphael."
Raphael faced him. “Did you consider that you might scare her?” His voice belayed his seriousness. A delicate quiver made his words a touch uneven.
"What? No! I mean, I would not do anything before we were married."
"Do you collect you like her much, as a person?"
The Viscount contemplated this a moment.
"I should say so. She's intelligent and witty from what I can gather. She seemed exceedingly charming. Her gentle sweetness struck me, but yet there remained something inexplicable about her. You once told me that she was tough, like you. Are all Americans tough?"
Raphael chuckled. “No,” he said and did a back flip, and Lord Cheltham wondered at the mystery and talent of his new friend.
"It aids my fighting, Cheltham!"
His curiosity as to where he learned his skills did not get the better of him though. Pleasure at his new acquaintance warmed the Viscount. Then he chuckled lightly, thinking that he would never see any such display of acrobatic skill from Lord Hawksworth.
He found it funny that he would imagine such a thing. Ever since he had made the acquaintance of Raphael, his mind had pondered many wildly interesting and unusual topics, and he was grandly pleased with this new development.
"I sensed in Miss Moore a determined lady with a bit of playfulness.” A pang of admiration wrapped around his heart.
"To say the least, Cheltham. She is a little sauce box; there can be no doubt concerning that. And her temper..."
"I cannot fathom such a vision becoming angry. Her blue eyes glowed with delight, and her smile made my heart glad. She appeared pleased to see me.” He let out a long breath and thought of her, remembering the good humor in her eyes.
Raphael laughed and finally plopped down next to him.
"I told you that she has a marked propensity for distrust, too. She was not convinced by you, was she? She screens out her men in unusual ways.” He leaned back, and placed his hands behind his head, resting on the stage.
"What do you mean by unusual, Raphael?” He turned to face the boy.
"I shan't say because I promised her I wouldn't."
The Viscount scoffed.
"But she will never be any man's fool."
"I have fervent feelings for her.
At that moment, his stomach tightened with emotion, and his heart squeezed with something deeply pleasant. To his surprise, she inspired more in him then he would have thought possible. He did know a lot about her after all, from his readings. She came from a public family. There were plenty of stories in the papers about the Moores.
"She did say that you were the most handsome man she has ever met.” Raphael bit his lower lip coyly.
Lord Cheltham studied Raphael. “She did?"
A softness about the boy intrigued him and invited him into a more intimate friendship with him. The Viscount's emotions jumbled around, disturbing him for being drawn to a boy, but he dismissed his concerns because the attachment stood fully developed, and for the oddness of it all, when he and Raphael were together, he constantly thought of Miss Moore. He grew to admire her increasingly with each visit with Raphael. This confused him, but he didn't question it, accepting it with a full heart.
"And she said that you have a degree of charm, Cheltham."
"Really?"
"Yes."
"My dear lad, do I have a chance with her?"
"I do not yet know."
"Tell me more about her, Raphael.” Is she as I imagine her to be, all loveliness?
Images of her in that green gown flooded his mind, and this theatre atmosphere made him feel nostalgic for that night. He wanted more information about her.
Raphael sat up and gestured broadly. “She traveled the world and had quite some adventures."
"What else?” Lord Cheltham placed his hand on the stage and pressed his palm down, hanging off Raphael's words.
"Her uncle is a jeweler. He deals in rare diamonds. I mention him because he is important to her. He's part of the reason she came to London, indirectly."
"Oh?” Lord Cheltham lifted his brow, curious.
"Indeed."
"Miss Moore comes from wealth, but I thought it was from land."
"Yes, but her uncle, her beloved uncle is wealthy by his own means, and he is like a second father to her."
"How nice."
"They are a close family, Cheltham."
"Unlike mine.” He closed his eyes and opened them when he felt Raphael touch his hair softly. For some reason, he took no offense to the boy's gesture. He was comfortable with the close nature of their friendship.
Raphael gave him a searching look. “Cheltham? I see sadness in your face."
He frowned. “My family is cold and distant, with the exception of how I feel for my sister. I care for Joan a great deal."
Raphael looked down now, pensively. “I'm sorry to hear that. Leafy is like family to me, and when something bothers her, it bothers me."
"What is it, lad?"
"Someone stole her uncle's favorite pink diamond. He was most unsettled afterward."
"I imagine so. Those diamonds are rare and expensive."
Raphael looked up at him sharply. “It isn't about the money. It was a gift from his wife. He was madly in love with her, and she passed on from illness. He kept the diamond at home and often gazed at it, thinking of his much-loved wife and how much trouble she went through to procure it for him."
"Oh?"
"Yes, Leafy told him that he needed to keep the diamond locked up, but he refused. He needed to be reminded of his darling Mallie. Somehow the word of the unprotected diamond escaped the family. Leafy and I intend to find his diamond and return it to him, if it means going into dangerous situations to do so."
Great interest surged through the Viscount, as he looked at his friend.
"Do you have any leads on the case?"
"Yes, we know the diamond is here in England. That's one of the reasons Leafy decided to set up her residence here for the time being, though her family had to get back to New York. I am helping her search for clues.” Raphael brushed the back of his own neck.
"It could be dangerous.” The Viscount leaned toward him.
Raphael stretched out his legs and bent forward to touch his toes. He bounced a little then did it again before speaking rapidly. “That is why I must stay active and flexible. If I don't practice every day, I will lose my talent, and who knows what will happen to me on the streets, or even in my own home? It is dangerous times we live in."
The Viscount stared at his perturbed friend. “How do you know the diamond is here?"
Raphael's hands twisted nervously together then stopped. He clasped his fingers together and stretched them. “The authorities could discover nothing on the case. They eventually closed it, so the family hired a private man who is still on it."
He squinted and scratched the side of his head. “Continue, good lad. I do not understand."
Raphael cracked the knuckles of his fingers and sighed. “Well, one day Leafy received a sort of ransom note but kept it from her family for fear that they would lock her up to protect her. She would hate that."
Visions of a long-faced beauty sighing on her velvet couch disturbed Lord Cheltham. He frowned, unhappy with the thought of a less-than-joyful Leafy.
The little lad continued. “An obsessed man who had sent her numerous notes and harassed her said he had the diamond and described it perfectly. He said that if she would succumb to him, he would return it. She pretended to be interested and sent a note with his errand-boy. The man told her to prove her interest by taking up residence in his native London."
A wave of protective anger swept over him. He would allow no harm to come to her. “I see.” He listened carefully to Raphael, growing tenser.
"Once she arrived, with her sister, one brother, and Mrs. Miller, under the guise of searching out a husband, she received another note. This time the man made indecent proposals. He said he dreamt of seducing her. She told him to go to the devil."
The Viscount started. He was offended on behalf of Miss Moore. He fisted his hand and slammed it against his thigh. “Damn him for treating her so!"
Raphael blinked in surprise of his passionate reaction, and then he smirked. “He sent a note saying that since she had no idea who he was, there was no need to leave London. He said it was a tragedy that she did not accept his offer."
"If I ever found out who he is, I would—"
"Pray, Cheltham, do not. She can handle this with my help! Do not get involved."
"I am involved, whether you approve or not!"
Raphael sighed.
"I'm sorry that she won't likely get the diamond back. He will most likely sell it, Raphael, making my dear Leafy unhappy.” He swept his hand up in a sharp arc.
"No, he wrote that he would not because she had held it. He would stare at it and think of her in the same manner that her uncle gazed at it, pondering his wife. He told her this to torment her, I suppose."
"Could this man be a danger to Miss Moore?” He clenched his fists.
"I protect her, Cheltham."
"You are not always with her. I am going to win her hand and defend her myself,” he stated straightly. He wanted to take her in his arms and never let any harm come to her the whole of her life.
"I wait anxiously for the moment she arrives at my townhouse for my party. I will tell her she has my protection."
Raphael turned to him angrily. Pride bounced off him and struck the Viscount as if it had been a physical weapon. “I taught her some of my fighting moves! She doesn't need you for protection!"
Six
The Viscount paused a moment, taken off-guard. “I witnessed some of those fi
ghting moves, but you are a boy."
Raphael leaned down onto his side and rested his cheek in one hand. “For your knowledge, a person's gender does not determine natural fighting proclivity or talent."
"Women don't fight."
Raphael let his arm fall and jumped to his feet “Oh? In Georgia, three years past, two women fought a duel!"
His mouth dropped open. “You jest!"
Raphael put his hands on his hips and lifted his chin. “I do not!” With thoroughly vexed tones, words flew out of his unrestrained mouth. “In fact, my lord, I had an aunt who served as a marine aboard a ship during the War of 1812."
"Impossible!” he drawled with mockery, smirking.
A small hand pointed to the Viscount with determination. “She disguised herself and fought as well or better than any man of her acquaintance, my lord!"
He scoffed and shook his head, swallowing a laugh of disbelief. “Your family would have been mortified!"
"My family doesn't know. She told me in confidence before she died!"
"I ... do not know what to say.” The Viscount's lips twitched with grand amusement, and he dropped his gaze.
He sat still, bewildered and mildly put-off, but as he considered the situation longer, his lips formed a smile. His unusual friend took him to another world, well out of the one he had been confined to for the better part of his life, and he found that he liked it. A bit of adventure felt good.
"Ask me where I learned to fight.” Raphael casually strolled over to the heavy velvet curtain hanging by the side of the stage, touched the folds, and coughed, waving. “Dust."
The Viscount shook his head. “Did you learn your exceptional skills in Asia or from your ... aunt?” Mirth tickled his chest.
"Asia.” Raphael frowned. “We spent a lot of time there. One of Leafy's best tutors married and moved there. Leafy followed her for a time."