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“People will talk. They always do. Performers here at Vauxhall or other workers. Maybe a visitor or customer will share an interesting bit of gossip. Whenever you hear something about what happened here, whether it be a rumor, idea orrecounting, send me a message.” He reached inside his breast pocket and retrieved his card. When he held it out to her, she didn’t immediately accept it. The moment stretched and he waited, assuming she would walk away without it.
“I’m sorry I can’t help you,” she said as she took the card, her fingers brushing against his in a fleeting touch that left him staring after her.
“Lola, watch this!”
Lola turned at hearing her name called from the stage closest to the colonnade. It was well past noon and after she’d finished her interview, she’d decided to go for a walk to escape the chatter and speculation inside the pavilion. The earl’s calling card was in her skirt pocket, but if she avoided hearing anything worth repeating, she wouldn’t have to decide whether or not to contact him. The shadow of pain visible in his eyes when he’d spoken of his friend still haunted her. She understood the bleak, hopeless feeling of loss and didn’t need any reminders.
Now, as she shaded her brow with her hand, she watched her friend Sofia fly across the wooden platform in a series of complicated flips and twists, landing on her feet in an effortless finish.
Lola’s interview with Fredrickson this morning had involved the same level of difficulty. Not wanting to say the wrong thing or provoke suspicion, she’d juggled lies with truth in what she hoped was convincing conversation. Things had progressed well enough until he’d casually inquired whether she lived alone or with her family. A stab of regret had sliced through her heart though she’d managed to keep her expression calm. She had nothing to share about her parents and sisters. She’d sacrificed the privilege of knowing their joys and hardships when she’d run away, abandoning her home, leaving everything behind inIpswich never to be seen again. But she couldn’t think about that now. Regret had a way of stealing one’s soul.
Having accomplished another tumbling pass, Sofia leapt from the stage and headed in Lola’s direction. Together with her two brothers, Sofia comprised The Gallos, an acrobatic act who’d found work at Vauxhall after they’d arrived from Italy five years ago. The sibling trio lived in the same boarding house as Lola. They occupied the lower, larger rooms, while Lola rented the single room above them. Between working together and staying at the same address, Lola and Sofia had forged a comfortable friendship even though several years separated them in age.
“How was it for you with the questions?” Sofia asked, worry lines creasing her forehead. “It’s a terrible thing, no?”
“Yes, it is,” Lola said, anxious to change the subject. “You’ve added another flip to your routine. Your brothers must be pleased.”
“Dio mio.” Sofia half smiled, rolling her eyes in exaggerated complaint. “They always want me to go faster, fly higher. I keep telling them I’m not a bird.”
Lola laughed and relaxed, some of her earlier tension slipping away.
“But you, Lola,” Sofia continued. “You move like a little starling on that rope. You are a star at the end of the evening, high above us all.”
“Until I misstep,” Lola answered, her words meant to remind herself of everything at risk.
“No,” Sofia admonished in a rushed tone. “Don’t say such a thing. You are brilliant.”
“Actually, I meant to go home for a little while instead of taking practice,” she said.Tonight, when she walked the rope would be soon enough.“But now that the gates will open in a few hours, there’s not enough time. Morland and the Runners took up too much of the day.”
“Yes, so many questions. They make it sound like we’re all in danger.” Sofia frowned. “I have my brothers watching over me, but what about you, Lola. Are you frightened?”
“There’s nothing to be frightened about.” She shook her head to emphasize her answer and reaffirm her confidence. No one knew what she saw and she intended to keep it that way. In another few days, it would all be forgotten and life would continue as usual.
“After the show tonight, we will go home together. Francesco and Alessandro will be with me,” Sofia said. “They will protect us.”
“I don’t think we need to be worried,” Lola added. “Besides, Marco watching over me is suffocating enough.” Thankfully Marco finished his act and left the grounds earlier than she did. He also lived in the opposite direction. Otherwise, she wondered if he would insist on the same.
“I understand. But what better way to show him you’re safe than if we walk home together. Maybe then he will stop hovering. You have the last performance of the night. My brothers and I will wait for you in the pavilion.”
Given Sofia’s persistence, Lola couldn’t disagree. Maybe talking with her friends and laughing all the way home would keep her mind off what had happened as well as the disconcerting confrontation with the earl. She hoped so because nothing else seemed to do the trick.
Theodore enteredWhite’s full-knowing his return to London would draw notice. Handing over his greatcoat, he made his way toward the back, stopping intermittently for a handshake or word of greeting. Not unlike the gentleman surrounding him, he’d spent several nights a week here before he’d hied off to America. The club provided a place to relax, enjoy the companyof his closest friends and hear the latest news, salacious or otherwise. But tonight, he wasn’t looking for companionship as much as noise and distraction.
Vauxhall didn’t open for another two hours and the more he paced around his town house, the more Wyndham, his man-of-all-things, inquired over his unrest. Wyndham was a loyal servant and irreplaceable valet, already taxed from their recent voyage and now charged with staffing the house on short notice. Wyndham deserved better.
At the moment Theodore’s conscience couldn’t bear another burden, his emotions frayed thin by Fremont’s sudden, unexplained death. He should call on Fremont House soon, though the thought brought with it another layer of despair. He couldn’t imagine the heartache Fremont’s younger sister experienced. Margaret and Stephan were extremely close and their adventures had often included Theodore. For a time, it was assumed he and Margaret would make a go of it, but once he’d decided to travel to America, he’d rightly encouraged her to seek a future elsewhere. The kind of marriage she deserved. In truth, their affinity was nothing more than kinship developed due to frequency and proximity. Any feelings of affection were strictly familial.
Needing liquor to quiet these thoughts, he signaled for a brandy and settled in a chair near the corner, unsure how much distraction he desired after all. Another hour and he’d have his driver take him over to the south bank. He wasn’t exactly sure why he needed to return to Vauxhall. He just knew he must. Was it an attempt to feel closer to Fremont? Or an effort to learn more of what had occurred there? That seemed an impossibility. Nevertheless, he wouldn’t waste time trying to reason it out, his emotions still in chaos.
“Essex, you devil! When did you return?” Braden Ulrich, Earl of Huntington, slapped him heartily on the shoulder and slidinto the adjacent chair. “You look no worse for your travels. Did you get everything well sorted in America?”
“Huntington.” Theodore greeted his friend, the tension in his chest easing by degrees. Perhaps talking to his friends was exactly what he needed this evening. “It’s too soon to tell in regard to my venture and as far as our fair city, I’ve only been home two days now.”
He waited, wondering if Fremont’s death had already hit the gossip mill. Damn it to hell, coming to White’s was a miserable idea.
“Then you’ve not heard.” Huntington’s expression lost all conviviality. “Or have you?” He asked tentatively.
“I have, although I don’t understand it,” Theodore said with grave seriousness before he took another swallow of brandy.