Page 44 of To Marry and to Meddle
Terrifying.
“No,” he hazarded. “I don’t believe she did.”
He shot a glance down the table at his wife. Emily gave him a happy smile in return that did nothing to soothe the sense of foreboding that had suddenly gripped him as soon as Diana began speaking.
“Well,” Diana said—she seemed to have a remarkable fondness for speaking in italics, Julian thought—“I recall you telling Penvale and me of the frustration you are currently experiencing, as regards the lead actress at your theater.”
“Leave me out of this,” Penvale said darkly from his spot midway down the table; he was seated next to Laverre, with whom he appeared to have hit it off quite well, and he’d interrupted his conversation to give his sister a wary look that spoke of years of experience with her scheming.
“Yes,” Julian said with a bit of caution—something told him that he was not going to like wherever this conversation was leading. “It’s been a bit of a headache.”
“How terrible,” Diana said with an exaggerated show of sympathy; beside Julian, Audley snorted, thus deepening Julian’s sense ofmisgiving. “And yet, actually, howwonderful. Because, you see, we’ve been discussing it, and darling Emily has mentioned that she’s always had a notion to try her hand at acting.”
She presented this news cheerfully, as though there were nothing at all out of the ordinary about it, and indeed as if Julian were expected to fall to his knees in a fit of gratitude at any moment.
Instead, there was a decisive thump as, midway down the table, West set down his wineglass and turned to level that stern gaze of his upon Diana in such a way that implied he believed she’d taken leave of her senses; across from him, both of Laverre’s eyebrows were approaching his hairline, and Jemma had turned to regard Emily the way one might regard a tiger that had initially been mistaken for a fuzzy kitten.
Julian had also turned to look at his wife, and she did not blush, or look shyly away, or engage in any of the habits he realized he’d grown accustomed to seeing in her, particularly in company. Instead, her eyes met his levelly, a look of polite curiosity upon her lovely face.
“You cannot be serious,” he said.
“I’ve always been rather curious about the theater,” Emily said, raising her wineglass to take a sip. “And I feel quite certain I could learn the lines—I’ve quite a good memory, you know.”
“You would be ruined,” he said. “You’d never be able to go anywhere near a polite drawing room ever again.”
“Yes,” she said, heaving a dramatic sigh. “And howdreadfulthat would be. Only think of all the discussions about the weather I’d miss out on—and, oh! The overcooked biscuits! However would I survive?”
There was appreciative laughter scattered around the table at this, but Julian did not so much as move a muscle, unwilling to break eye contact with whomever this creature was who had entered his dining room and replaced his perfectly sensible wife.
“You know nothing about acting,” he said, feeling compelled to point out the obvious.
“But that won’t matter much, once I’m onstage,” she said, batting her eyelashes. “Everyone will be so distracted by the sight ofme, a lady with a previously immaculate reputation, appearing onstage in a theater, that they won’t notice a word I say. Only think of what it will do for your ticket sales! It will be a spectacle!”
“I don’t want a spectacle,” Julian said sharply. “I believe that was the point of this marriage.” Something faltered for a brief moment in Emily’s expression as he uttered these words—a bit of the confidence vanishing for a second, only to be replaced a moment later, as if it were a sheet that had slipped before being quickly yanked back into place. He felt a brief stab of regret at his words, but ignored it—he’d only spoken the truth, after all.
“AndIthought you wanted to use my reputation to improve that of your theater,” Emily responded coolly. “How am I possibly to do that, if I never set foot anywhere near it?”
“If you’re curious about the Belfry, there are numerous ways you might be involved without resorting toappearing onstage,” he enunciated very clearly, feeling as if he were conversing with a madwoman; she continued to lay out her argument as if there were nothing at all unusual in it, which made Julian, in turn, feel as though he might be losinghismind.
“Then you’ll allow me to come with you to the Belfry? To watch a rehearsal, meet the actors… see if I’ve any suggestions about how you might make it more respectable?” Emily asked, brightening, and Julian instantly realized that he’d been played from the start.
“I didn’t say—”
“If you wish me to be involved, but don’t wish me to actuallyhave a starring role in one of your shows, this seems like a nice compromise, don’t you think?” She was doing that thing again that she did—blinking in innocent inquiry, as though she were being entirely reasonable and there was nothing out of the ordinary in her request. As though she had not just more or less threatened him with the destruction of her entire reputation—and his, by extension—only to back down from this threat to settle for what sheactuallywanted instead.
He saw all of this in an instant and, meeting her eyes once more, he saw something flicker in her gaze—some acknowledgment that she knew what she had just done, and she knew thatheknew, too. And Julian, suddenly feeling a bit exhausted in the face of the concerted campaign he had just endured, simply said, “Fine. I’ll take you to the Belfry.”
“Lovely!” Emily said brightly, then promptly turned to Lady Fitzwilliam and resumed whatever conversation they’d been having five minutes ago.
Meanwhile, half the table was still staring at Julian, who felt as if he’d just weathered a typhoon.
“Welcome to married life, Belfry,” Audley said, raising his glass to him. “I hope you’re up to the challenge.”
Julian could not help hoping the same.
Fourteen
“I really thought a hotbedof sin would look a bit more… well, sinful,” Emily said two days later as she followed Julian through a nondescript door into the backstage area of the Belfry.
