Page 24 of No Mistress Of Mine

“A better offer?” He shook his head, refusing to believe, and she knew she had to hammer the point home.

“Yes. He’s going back to America and taking me with him. He’s giving me my own show in New York.”

Denys’s jaw tightened. “I see.”

He took a step back, and she felt as if her heart were ripping in half. “Yes,” he said, nodding, “I see.”

She could see, too—she could see him hurting, hardening, any love he might have for her withering right before her eyes. But it was better for him to hate her now, when he wasn’t stuck with her for life, when he could still find someone else, someone who wouldn’t be an embarrassment to him and a stain to his family name, someone suitable who understood his life and could share it. Better for him to look at her with loathing now than with regret and blame a few years from now. Better to end this affair before there was a marriage that could not be undone and children who would suffer for their mistake. But as his eyes raked over her, what was better didn’t seem much comfort.

“I’m glad we understand each other,” she said, and caught the quiver in her voice. She forced herself to steady it, to speak with quiet finality. “Good-bye, Denys.”

The silence was smothering. Her chest ached, and she couldn’t breathe, and she knew that if he stood there much longer, she was going to break down. But just when she thought she couldn’t take it anymore, he turned his back and walked out, slamming the door behind him.

“So,” Henry said beside her in the silence. “I guess that means you’ve decided to accept my offer.”

She was tough, she reminded herself. She was hardheaded and practical, and she’d done the right thing. “I guess I have,” she said, and burst into tears.

Henry had given her a handkerchief, a stiff drink, and a fresh start. With his backing and support, she’d taken Lola Valentine to Madison Square, and within a year, she’d climbed to the top of New York music-hall theater. With the training he’d promised, she slowly learned the craft and the discipline of serious acting, and Henry’s encouragement had given her hope that one day she’d be able to perform drama again. But now?

What am I doing here?she wondered wildly as she glanced at the actors all around her. She was in partnership with a man who had every reason to hate her and would like nothing but to see the back of her. He’d never let her be part of this company. And, she thought, taking another look at the people around her, why should he?

These were serious actors with established bona fides who performed Shakespearean drama and Greek tragedy, while she was known for a risqué song-and-dance routine. The only acting role on her resume had lasted a week. Most of these people had years of experience reciting the lines of Hamlet and Clytemnestra, while her most famous soliloquy was a bawdy rendition ofYou Should Go to France and See the Ladies Dance.

Self-doubt seized her like a fist, clenching and twisting her guts. Everyone already thought she’d slept her way to success, and being partners with Denys was only going to reinforce that. Even if she proved she could act, it’d take forever for people to respect her for it. And what if she didn’t prove herself? What then?

“Lola? Lola Valentine?”

She looked up to find a woman of about her own age standing by her seat, a woman whose round, china-doll face she recognized at once from her Paris days. “Kitty Carr,” she cried, jumping to her feet with a laugh of disbelief. “My goodness!”

Kitty’s big brown eyes crinkled at the corners as she offered an answering smile. “What’s it been? Seven years, now?”

“Since theThéâtre Latin? Closer to eight, I’m afraid.”

“Seven or eight, it’s long enough that I could hardly believe it when I saw you walk out on that stage.”

“You were watching?”

“Back row.” She bent to place the large, slim valise of black leather she was carrying on the floor beside her. “I had no idea you were in London.”

“I could say the same about you.”

“Well, I am a London girl,” Kitty reminded her. “A year after you left Paris, I decided to do the same. I tried to look you up, but you’d already gone to New York. When did you return?”

“Just a few days ago.” Lola gestured invitingly to the empty space beside her. “Are you auditioning, too?” she asked, as both of them sank down on the bench seat.

Kitty shook her head, tucking a loose lock of her straight blond hair behind one ear. “No. I’m here to see Mr.Roth about the backdrops for the play. I paint scenery nowadays.”

“You gave up the stage?”

“I did. It proved too much for my constitution.”

Lola pressed a hand to her stomach. “Right now, I know just what you mean.”

“You’ve no cause to worry. You did well.”

“Do you really think so?”

Kitty groaned, shaking her head as if in exasperation as she turned toward her and propped one shoulder against the wall behind them. “You’ve become a real actor, I can tell, what with all this blatant fishing for compliments.”

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