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“I didn’t hear you knocking.” The woman to her right tossed her head, the feathers on her high-crowned bonnet swaying in emphasis.

She was a tall and slender blonde. So was the woman to the left.

The woman in the middle was far shorter, but no less imposing, full-figured, with strong features and lustrous eyes.

Chestnut curls made a cloud around her heart-shaped face.

“How is this happening?” Georgie’s gaze moved back and forth. Their stunned expression had bloomed into pure delight. “Elf, these are my friends, Charlotte and Louisa Quiddington, and Sally Linley. We met at the Cabinet Theater. And this is Elfreda Marsden. My neighbor.”

Elfreda dipped her head, neck suddenly stiff. Neighbor. That was…accurate.

The three women curtseyed as one, as though to resounding applause.

“You’re actresses?” Elfreda’s question sounded toneless. Her speaking voice wasn’t melodic like Miss Linley’s, or flexible like Georgie’s. Shyness made it flat. Her stomach began to squirm. What if these women interpreted her shyness as scorn?

“Ostriches,” laughed Miss Quiddington. “Just the other day we were ostriches in the pantomime.”

“Sometimes we are ostriches.” The other Miss Quiddington extended her elegant neck. “Sometimes we are opera dancers.” She kicked up her heels.

“We’re strollers, presently,” said Miss Linley.

“The manager at the Cabinet dismissed us! He dismissed me , rather, but he was so vile about it, Charlotte and Louisa left too.” Miss Linley’s eyes fixed on Georgie.

“We went on the road with Mr. Arbuthnot’s Company of Players right after I received your letter. That’s why I didn’t write back.”

“We were to play for the month at a theater in Daventry,” interjected Miss Quiddington. “But it burned to the ground the second day, and now we’re true itinerants, acting in barns and stables.”

The other Miss Quiddington frowned. “Only until our summer season starts in Manchester.”

“We’re headed to Thornton now,” said Miss Linley, “but when I realized we were passing through Twynham I begged Arbuthnot to stop.”

“Just to see me?” Georgie grinned. “I saw you. The lot of you. On the green, with your wagon. I didn’t know at the time.”

The time. The time they were on the roof, with Elfreda, and the world belonged to the two of them alone.

“Yes, to see you.” Miss Linley swept Georgie with her gaze. Did Georgie mind that they were wearing what had to be their oldest muslin, their excavation costume, selected for shabbiness? It was stained from the previous days of digging.

They didn’t seem to mind. They were returning Miss Linley’s gaze just as deliberately.

“And to ask if you’d bespeak the night’s performance,” Miss Linley continued smoothly. “Buy up our tickets, and we’ll stay here and put on any play you choose.”

“I can’t,” said Georgie at once.

The actresses exchanged glances. Miss Linley lifted her gaze and looked well above Georgie’s head. Elfreda didn’t have to turn to know she was inspecting Redmayne Manor, and that the red bricks and tall windows were resplendent in the sun.

“You’re not a Bowen ,” said Miss Linley. “You’re a Redmayne. The Redmaynes are among the local worthies. I had it confirmed by the blacksmith.”

“I’m a Redmayne who currently lacks ready money.” They sighed. “Believe me, I’d bespeak every night between now and Manchester if I could.”

“And your neighbor?” Miss Linley moved her gaze to Elfreda.

Elfreda shook her head.

The actresses seemed to shrink with disappointment. Their bright silks looked suddenly tattered and garish.

“I do know every worthy in the neighborhood,” said Georgie. “I’m sure I can help you find someone to bespeak the performance.”

Miss Linley beamed, once again inhabiting her gown like a queen. “Do you have a carriage? The quicker the better.”

“I can drive one of you in the gig.”

“They’ll walk.” Miss Linley waved her hand at the Miss Quiddingtons and gazed again at Elfreda.

“I’ll walk as well.” Her eyes slid to Georgie. “To where we were going.”

“Elf.” Georgie looked stricken. But she hadn’t intended the we as a reproach. It had simply slipped out. Clumsily. She was always so clumsy. Her stomach kicked.

“Good luck,” she managed, and this she did mean.

Georgie responding generously to an unexpected plea, driving off with Miss Linley—their behavior befitted the exigency of the situation.

She wouldn’t want them to forsake friends in need.

And choosing those friends in this moment didn’t mean they were forsaking her in any larger sense.

Her. Their neighbor.

“I’ll meet you on the bluff.” Georgie claimed her hand. “Just as soon as I secure a patron for these children of Thespis.”

She looked them full in the face. There was still starlight in their eyes. And she was still flying into love with them. And someday soon, they were going to shake the amber from their wings and fly away altogether.

“Ask Mrs. Alderwalsey to buy the tickets,” she said. “Be sure to tell her that you’re asking Mrs. Roberts next.”

Georgie’s grin was wolfish. They leaned closer, their voice dipping into its lowest register. “You are a menace.”

And it was as though she was back on the tower roof. Everything fell away but their look, their touch.

They pulled back slightly. “Tonight, I will take you to the theater.”

“Barn,” interjected Miss Quiddington. “Or a room at the inn, if we’re lucky.”

Elfreda pressed Georgie’s fingers before letting go, and smiled at the actresses, less awkwardly.

“In any case,” she said, “a night to remember.”

It was a promise she made to herself. However few or many nights she had with Georgie, she would treasure them all.