Page 112

CHAPTER TEN

Ambrose was in his study finishing his whiskey when he heard a commotion from his foyer. Feminine screeching battled with the low rumble of his butler’s voice. After a few moments, the door burst open and Alice stormed in.

“You bastard!” she seethed.

“It’s fine, Henry.” Ambrose set his glass down on the desk. “Please close the door on your way out.” Gesturing to the chair across from him, “Sit.”

Alice stomped over to his desk. “You right ass. How dare you take my role from me!”

“Take your role?” he replied. “I merely suggested Tabitha would benefit from being able to finish the run of performances.”

“Mr. Edward fired me from the company!” She pounded her fist on the desktop. “When I challenged him, he said I would be lucky to find another company that would take me on! You blacklisted me!”

“I did no such thing.” He picked up his glass again and swirled the amber liquid.

“Every company in London knows you bankroll half of the plays each season. You fired me, knowing no one else in the city would dare anger you by hiring me!” Then she lowered her head, her voice cracking just so as she blotted her eyes with her handkerchief. “You’ve destroyed my career, Ambrose.”

“You did decide to test me.” He chuckled then. “How is Carrow? Still keeping you in blue gems?”

She gave him what he guessed was supposed to be a remorseful look. “He never measured up to you.” A solitary tear rolled down her cheek. “I made a mistake, Ambrose. Surely you could forgive a mistake.”

“I could,” he started, “if in fact it was a mistake.

However you chose to make the same mistake over and over, according to the servants.

When she started gasping. “Quite a vindictive group they were, especially since you treated them terribly, throwing things at the footmen, beating the housemaids. They were quite forthcoming about your escapades with not only Carrow, but Litely, Edwards, and even one of the footmen.” He reached for the bell pull and summoned his butler, who arrived with two other footmen.

“Henry,” he said, pulling a billfold out of his desk.

“Please escort Mrs. Bowmar off the property.” He pulled out two pound notes and slid them across the desktop.

“This should be more than enough to keep you from starving while you make your way north, since the only companies that would hire you are there.”

She snatched the money from his fingertips. Gone was the regret she faked. “I hate you.”

“Finally, an honest reaction. You should work on that for your next audition.”

She screamed at him as the footmen took her by the arms and half-dragged her out.

Ambrose took a deep breath and downed his drink. He had the feeling this wasn’t over.