Temptress in Training Read Online Free PDF Page B

was an odd sensation, being there like that. How many times before had she stood in the wings, peering out onto a stage, watching in awe? Hundreds, she supposed.
    Mamma had been an actress; lovely, graceful. Every audience who saw her throughout England was quickly enthralled. Papa had been dashing and handsome, charming everyone and bartering a dazzling wage wherever they might perform. Indeed, the theater had been a place of wonder and fascination for Sophie. It was with many tears and protests that she left it all those years ago when Mamma and Papa decided she ought to have a proper upbringing and sent her off to live with Grandmamma.
    Life had begun a downward spiral after that. She sank back into the corner, leaned against the wall, and closed her eyes, shutting out the memories. There was no room in the present to pine for the past. Right now she needed to compose herself and think of a way to get her message to Miss Sands without being seen by Mr. Fitzgelder.
    As her body began to calm from the exertion of her hurried return to this house, the irritation from those dratted pantalets became evident once again. She’d not had the chance to remove them. Well, Miss Sands was clearly occupied on stage just now, and it was rather private back here in the little alcove…Perhaps she might dare to finally rid herself of the things.
    Carefully, she tucked herself as far back into the corner as possible and struggled to keep herself silent—and modest—while reaching up under her skirts to untie the strings at her waist that held up the pantalets. It was awkward, to say the least. And quite disconcerting, given the sounds of actors and audience only a sheer screen away.
    She jumped involuntarily, slightly bumping into the screen, when Mr. Fitzgelder’s voice boomed from his place in the front row of chairs. He had some very unpleasant things to say about Juliet. Sophie cringed as the horrid man ranted at the unendurable performance and demanded that Miss Sands be presented immediately. He seemed quite unwilling to hear any claims that she did not exist. Indeed, it appeared the girl’s father had been correct not half an hour ago when he’d whispered in Sophie’s ear that this must be a trap and that Fitzgelder was clearly expecting them. Miss Sands was in danger.
    How foolish Sophie had been to involve herself in this! She knew what unpleasantness Mr. Fitzgelder might be capable of. If he had something against these actors, it would not go well for her to be found assisting them. Oh, but indeed it had been a mistake to come back here, even for the worthy cause of warning Miss Sands. She should steal up to her little garret, gather the few belongings she’d left there, and be gone once and for all. Better to be off on her own than to be in the middle of whatever this was.
    Heart pounding, she increased her efforts with the pantalets.
    The contrary strings were very nearly undone when Sophie’s nervous fingers froze. She could hear Fitzgelder’s feet pounding the salon floor—he was coming closer, approaching the stage, demanding to know where Miss Sands was. In only a moment he might come charging back behind the alcove to find her, instead. In his state, Sophie trembled to think what he might do.
    But Miss Sands, in her new disguise as Mr. Clemmons, held things in control. Sophie heard the woman clear her throat and address Mr. Fitzgelder in a voice that was remarkably calm and almost not feminine. She announced that yes, their patron for the night was indeed correct and there truly had been a Miss Sands in the troupe.
    â€œBut she left,” the actress-portraying-an-actor made clear. “She is gone.”
    â€œGone?” Fitzgelder bellowed. “When?”
    â€œSome time ago.”
    Mr. Fitzgelder was not satisfied. “How much time ago? A week? A day?”
    â€œAn hour, sir. She left an hour ago with one of our actors.”
    â€œWhere were they