Sir and Lady Melton seemed to enjoy the show immensely, clapping and laughing aloud, as did Sir Phineas. Everyone but Anthony and Charlotte, who sat side by side as if turned to stone.

Anthony stole a glance down at her and noted that she seemed as pale and wan as he felt.

Suddenly Lady Melton stiffened, her gaze on the stage.

The children had moved to current times, and were standing in the midst of a fairly accurate rendition of the nursery. And there, wearing a red wig, was Elizabeth, her chest filled with rags to give her an inkling of Anna’s curvaceous figure. If the wig and enhanced bosom hadn’t told Anthony who Elizabeth was supposed to be, the book of Greek poetry clutched to her breast would have.

“Miss Thraxton,” Desford called, coming onstage wearing one of Anthony’s best coats, the arms rolled up. “I’ve come to sweep you away!”

“Oh, Lord Greyley,” the fake “Anna” simpered. “This is highly improper.”

Anthony sat stunned as Desford walked up to “Miss Thraxton” and planted a loud kiss on her cheek. But worse was her reaction—she turned and kissed him back, blushing adorably.

“What the hell?” Sir Melton said loudly, sending a glare at Anthony. Lady Melton, meanwhile, sat as if mesmerized, her mouth opening and closing, though no sound came out.

“Children!” Lady Putney stood and scurried to the stage, but Sir Phineas blocked the way with his cane.

He took her arm and said quietly, “I fear it’s too late, my dear Lady Putney. The truth is out.” She struggled as if to free herself, but Sir Phineas led her to a chair and pushed her into it.

Despite the rustle in the audience, the actors plunged on. “Anthony” began chasing “Anna” about a table until Richard walked in.

Desford skid to a halt and glowered at the new arrival. “It’s Rupert! Why have you come?”

Elizabeth clasped her hands together and said in her best stage voice, “He has come to steal me away, for I love no one but him.”

Charlotte bound to her feet. “What?”

Anthony covered his eyes. He didn’t know whether to laugh or shout or just leave, but he had the feeling that the entire world was careening madly out of control.

Lady Melton lurched out of her chair and went to enfold Charlotte in a protective embrace. “My dear, dear child!” Over Charlotte’s curls, Lady Melton glared at Anthony. “We won’t stand for this, Greyley.”

Anthony sighed and hauled himself to his feet. “I’m sorry about the play. I didn’t know—”

“I’m sure you didn’t,” Lady Putney said. “If anyone is to blame for this, it is that woman, Anna Thraxton. She’s the one who—”

“No!” Charlotte broke free from her mother’s embrace, her deep blue eyes brimming with anger. “I will not believe it of Anna.”

Everyone was in a turmoil. Everyone except one person. Anthony caught Sir Phineas’s calm gaze where he sat watching the whole as if the play had moved from the stage to the audience.