“Lady Lydingham, you should be aware that I have never left a play in the middle of a performance. I have never walked off a stage in a huff. Even when I have been surrounded by others who have not studied their craft and learned their lines and have indeed made me look like a fool standing on the stage waiting for . . .” He shook his head, obviously clearing out the unwanted memories of a bad performance. “However”—he stared down his nose at her—“given the circumstances—”

“Mr. Fortesque.” She met his gaze through narrowed eyes. “It seems we have come to a crossroads in which we have two choices. One, you may leave my employ at once—in which case, I shall consider our agreement nullified and you shall forfeit any and all wages due you and your troupe.”

He gasped. “That would be most—”

“Unfair? I should warn you, this is the second time today I have been accused of being unfair, and I am not certain if I am annoyed or quite pleased with myself. Do you understand?”

He nodded but held his tongue.

“Excellent. Our second choice is to carry on bravely and rise to the occasion. And, Mr. Fortesque”—she leaned closer and lowered her voice—“is that not the tradition of the theater? Didn’t Shakespeare say, ‘The play’s the thing’?”

He considered her for a moment, then squared his shoulders. “It’s Fortesque, my lady. Do try to remember that.”

She resisted the urge to laugh. “Yes, of course.”

“Now, if you no longer require my services, I shall see to the arrangements”—he winced—“for the children.”

“Actually, Fortesque, I was wondering. Isn’t it difficult to make a decent living on the stage?”

“Oh, my. Yes.” He shook his head forlornly. “Even if one’s heart is in the theater, one’s stomach does require sustenance.”

“I can imagine,” she said thoughtfully. “And Mrs. Fortesque? Is she as taken with the theater as you are?”

He grimaced. “Unfortunately, I am of an artistic nature and she is made of far more practical stuff.”

“I see. Then I would suspect, if she were offered a position with decent wages and living quarters, included for you both, of course,” she added quickly, “thus leaving you to pursue your theatrical ambitions, would you and she be at all inclined toward an arrangement of that nature?”

“It would indeed be something to consider.” Interest gleamed in his eyes.

“In which case, I have a proposal for you, Fortesque. . . .”

Camille smiled to herself. She could practically taste the chocolate now.

Fifteen

Fifteen

Gray wasn’t sure when, if ever, he’d been quite so exhausted. But then again, he hadn’t romped with little boys since he’d been one himself. Still, he had to admit, he’d had rather a good time of it.