Page 8 of No Mistress Of Mine

Half of the Imperial?A partnership between her and Denys’s father?That was just plain crazy.

Dazed, Lola stared at Mr.Forbes, trying to assimilate what this might mean, and it took her several moments to realize the members of Henry’s family had all turned around in their chairs to stare at her. Slowly, her gaze moved from face to face, and she appreciated that they were mad as hell.

First, there was Carlton, his complexion suffusing with purple at the news that Lola was to receive one of Henry’s most profitable investments and a generous amount of cold, hard cash. And Margaret, who had lowered her handkerchief to give her father’s supposed mistress a loathing-filled stare from dry, tearless eyes. And Gladys, trembling with rage, her thin lips pressed tight together.

Lola stared back at them, her chin high. These people were Henry’s family but hadn’t cared a penny about him, and their withering stares didn’t wilt her one bit. She watched as Gladys stood up and came toward where she sat apart from the others in a chair by the door, and she tilted her head back as Gladys halted in front of her, keeping her face expressionless as she met the other woman’s contemptuous gaze head-on. And when Gladys’s hand came up and slapped her hard across the face, Lola didn’t even flinch. She wouldn’t give Gladys that sort of satisfaction.

She waited until they were gone before she pressed a hand to her stinging cheek. Gladys hadn’t known she was slapping the wrong woman, of course, and Lola hadn’t had any inclination to enlighten her. Henry would have wanted Alice’s reputation protected even after his death. Besides, Lola had never had the luxury of caring what women like Gladys Latham thought of her.

“My apologies, MissValentine.”

Lola lowered her hand and looked up. “It’s quite all right, Mr.Forbes. Someone else’s uncivil behavior isn’t your fault. Besides,” she added, “I can’t really blame her. It must be difficult for her to see me here. And Henry, I would imagine, wasn’t much of a husband.”

The attorney leaned forward in his chair with a confidential air. “Gladys,” he said, “wasn’t much of a wife.”

Lola couldn’t help smiling a little at that. “You’re a wicked man, Mr.Forbes.”

He gestured to the chair closest to him, the one vacated by Henry’s widow. “If you can stay a few more minutes, MissValentine. I have something else to give you from Mr.Latham.”

“Something else?” she echoed as she came forward to take the offered chair. “I can’t imagine what. But then, I couldn’t imagine his leaving me half the Imperial, either. Earl Conyers and I, partners? Why, that man wouldn’t give me a glass of water if I were dying of thirst.”

“As to that...” The attorney paused to give a little cough. “His lordship does not manage the Imperial himself. My understanding is that Lord Conyers abdicated management of all his investments to his son, Lord Somerton, three years ago.”

“Denys runs the Imperial now?” She groaned and leaned forward in her chair. “That makes everything even worse. Oh, Henry,” she muttered, rubbing four fingers across her forehead, “what have you done?”

After a moment, she lifted her head. “My question remains. How could he ever imagine that such a partnership could work?”

“As to that, Mr.Latham did not confide in me. But this may elucidate matters for you.” Mr.Forbes lifted a sealed envelope from the desk and held it out to her. “He wanted you to have this after the will was read.”

She broke the wax seal, pulled a single sheet from the envelope and unfolded it.

Lola,

Sometimes I’m a little late, but I always keep my promises. Go back to London and knock ’em dead, honey. Prove they were wrong about you. You can do it.

With affection,

Henry

PS — If you turn down this chance because of Denys, I shall come back as a ghost and haunt you.

Tears stung her eyes even as she gave a laugh at the idea of Henry as a ghost. She’d begun to think he’d forgotten the promise he’d made to her that fateful night in Paris.

I’ll see that you learn your craft the proper way. And when I think you’re ready to give drama another try, I’ll find investors to back a serious play for you. I’ll even make it Shakespeare. And if you’re good, I’ll manage your acting career. Maybe we’ll even open our own theater in New York, and you can put on your own plays.

She blinked back the tears and read the letter again. This time, however, she found her shock wearing off and the ramifications sinking in. He’d kept his promise, but with one enormous difference. The Imperial was not in New York.

She looked at the attorney in bewilderment. “Henry must’ve been out of his mind.”

“His family may think so,” the attorney responded dryly. “But no, Mr.Latham’s mental state was perfectly sound.”

Lola had always thought so, but this did give her cause to wonder. London was where she’d first tried dramatic acting, where Denys, at his own expense, had financed his first play and gotten her a part. But she hadn’t lived up to his faith in her talent. She’d fallen flat on her face and been eviscerated by the audience, the critics, and her peers. Now, Henry wanted her to go back there and try again? Her stomach lurched with fear at the thought.

And what about Denys? The Imperial meant facing him and the choice she’d made years ago. It meant managing a theater with him, for heaven’s sake. It would never work, not in a thousand years.

But she was going to do it anyway.

Lola shoved down fear, folded the letter, and put it back in its envelope, then took a deep breath and looked at Henry’s attorney. “I don’t know much about business, so I don’t quite understand what this bequest entails. Could you explain it?”

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