Free Margaret Moore by His Forbidden Kiss Page B

so. Father’s investments and estate see to that.” The young lord sighed heavily. “Still, it can be quite boring, all that money.”
    Vivienne glanced back at her uncle. She had never seen an expression quite like the one that was on his face. It was as if he didn’t know whether to be pleased, shocked or horrified.
    “I hear that saucy Nell Gwynn has a part in the play tonight,” Lord Cheddersby went on. “Richard was quite impressed with her and gave her a major role. Mind, she’s as impertinent as they come. She nearly knocked me out with an orange once. That’s how she started in the theater, selling oranges in the pit.”
    “Now she’s on the stage instead of in front of it. I daresay she sold more than her oranges for that opportunity, and that Sir Richard was more than happy to pay,” Philip muttered sarcastically.
    The whole audience suddenly rose en masse, heralding the arrival of the king and his party. Charles acknowledged their greeting, then began to clap at the sight of an attractive young actress who appeared on stage to recite the prologue. The audience quickly resumed their seats.
    The amusing actress was wearing what was apparently supposed to be a shepherdess costume. A side seam in her skirt had split open, and Vivienne wondered why no one had gone to the trouble to fix it.
    Regardless of her torn costume—or perhaps because of it—Philip and Lord Cheddersby were obviously finding her fascinating. Vivienne, however, was not nearly so interested in the sight of a bare leg, so she let her gaze rove from the stage—and her heart seemed to stop.
    Robert Harding stood in the dark corner to the left of the stage, where he was speaking to another man with long, shaggy hair and an eye patch. The stranger looked very much like a pirate, and she wondered if he was the client Mr. Harding had mentioned.
    Suddenly Mr. Harding looked over his shoulder, seemingly right at her. She flushed hotly, and quickly turned away, but not before realizing his companion was staring at her.
    Why should she be embarrassed? she thought wildly. She hadn’t done anything wrong.
    Resolving not to be embarrassed or intimidated, she looked at the corner—only to discover that Mr. Harding and his associate with the eye patch were gone, as if they had melted into the very plaster of the walls.

Chapter 8
    “’S cuse us, ladies,” Jack said with a grin as he led Rob through the backstage warren of the King’s Theatre, past a group of actresses, props, flats and several men who, by rights, should have been in the audience, not flirting with the female performers.
    “Oh, we’ll excuse you two, all right,” one of the actresses said with a bawdy leer, while another whistled with approval.
    “Here, hold your noise!” the property master hissed. “Nell’s makin’ her best speech.”
    Chuckling and regardless of the attention he had drawn, Jack continued out into the alley before he turned and faced Rob. As he did, he pulled off the unnecessary patch over his left eye, then scratched his eyelid and the red mark the patch had left.
    “Are you still using that patch?” Rob asked, glad to be out in the slightly fresher air. Little daylight penetrated the shadows here, but he could see Jack well enough. “I thought it made your head hurt.”
    Jack’s friendly smile turned into a smirk. “The ladies like it, and I was never one to disappoint the ladies.”
    “So I recall.”
    As Jack tucked the unnecessary patch into his belt, he studied his friend a moment. “Neither was you, back in the day.”
    “I prefer to forget those days.”
    “Don’t I know it,” Jack said. “Can’t hardly get you into a tavern now. Or is it that you’ve got a woman and you don’t want me to find out? That one Polly seen you with, I’d wager. Right skint of you to keep her to yourself if you do.”
    Rob had no desire to get into a discussion about women—and especially Vivienne—with Jack. “Speaking of wagers, what happened to