Free Beyond Rubies (Daughters of Sin Book 4) by Beverley Oakley Page B

husband, for I never wished to marry the blackguard. Never! Mr. Woking said that his uncle was intent upon this ruthless plan, and that since you had left the country and could not protect me, he would do the honorable thing, and that we could pretend to be betrothed as it was the only way to keep me safe from his evil uncle’s clutches. But even that wasn’t enough.” She put her hands to her face and shook her bowed head. “No, the night we announced our betrothal, Lord Debenham followed me to the lady’s mending room at Miss Hosking’s own betrothal ball, dragged me into an empty room, and ensured that my being compromised was thoroughly witnessed and documented. He forced me onto the bed so that I would have no choice but to marry him...and you were not there to protect me,” she added with a little sob and in a suitably accusing tone as she dropped her hands.
    Watching Teddy’s mouth drop open and the flare of horror in his eyes was the only satisfying part of her entire evening.
    And the fact that she had not lost the art of turning a bad situation to her advantage.

Chapter Six
    K itty breathed in the now familiar smell of oil paint, rancid powder, and smoke with her usual delight as she sat at her dressing table and slapped on her make-up with whatever came to hand—a rabbit’s paw sufficing for the moment. Around her a dozen chattering, bustling actresses prepared themselves while Kitty, as the jewel of the night, had her own attendant to comb her hair, two thick fair ropes adorned with ribbons in the first scene. By the end, it would be a lustrous, tangled mass of curls after a stricken Romeo knotted his grasping hands in it.
    Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet had been enjoying spectacular reviews since it had begun playing the week before after three weeks of rehearsals. Each night they’d played to a full house. Mr. Lazarus had forgiven Kitty after she’d pliantly kissed him during rehearsal and allowed him to fondle her rump. Fortunately, it seemed that was all he was after, so Kitty had been given the role with her virtue intact. She was now enjoying a great deal of fawning admiration from a range of men. Bouquets of flowers were delivered nightly, notes declaring ardent love from complete strangers were regularly handed to her by glowering chorus girls, including one very sweet piece of parchment from Lord Silverton, in which he lauded her stage presence and beauty and wished her much happiness in her chosen career, evincing the deepest regret that another had stolen her heart and offering her a refuge should she need one.
    Kitty had hugged the single yellow rose, signifying loyalty rather than love, while an odd feeling had roiled in her belly; but then, a mealy-mouthed Jennie had come into the dressing room carrying an enormous bouquet of red roses, and a message from Lord Nash that he looked forward to paying his respects to Kitty in person after the night’s performance.
    “Don’t go losing your heart to this one, now,” Jenny warned. “’E likes to break in all the new ones.”
    Kitty thought Jennie was just jealous, for she knew sincerity, and that’s what had shone from her first shared gaze with the handsome viscount. Lord Nash, she was quite sure, was the handsome dark-haired swain the gypsy fortune-teller had prophesied as her destiny. If his inky-black curls and smoldering eyes did not make the argument sufficiently, the small dueling scar beneath his right eye certainly did.
    So, while generally Kitty relished every moment on stage, tonight she couldn’t wait for the performance to be over so she could at last gaze upon the Adonis whose image had haunted her since he’d first swept his extravagant bow just before her first disastrous audition.
    It had been love at first sight. She’d relived the scene so many times, pinpointing the moment they had seared each other’s souls with that single, piercing look. And now he was here, exquisite in evening clothes that molded his