When You're Desired Read Online Free PDF Page A

door. It opened, as if of its own accord, and a tall young man in scarlet and gold regimentals strode into the room. From his actress mother Captain Fitzclarence had inherited his dark good looks, while his royal father had provided him with something more practical: a commission in the Life Guards. Just nineteen, he was quite five years Celia’s junior.
    â€œI am come to fetch you, Celia,” he announced.
    â€œHigh time, too,” Celia grumbled, motioning to Flood to fetch her cloak. “I’m bloody starved. I want my supper.”
    â€œI was detained by Her Grace, the Dowager Duchess of Berkshire,” he protested. “What a sight! She is like a little doll stuck all over with emeralds and diamonds.”
    â€œHow nice for Her Grace,” Celia returned. “May we go now?”
    â€œNot just yet,” he replied. “Her Grace has expressed the desire to meet you. She awaits you in the Green Room. I am to take you to her.”
    Flood, her mistress’s cloak in hand, was brought up short by this announcement. Her mouth fell open and her eyes swung to her mistress’s face.
    â€œI’m afraid I’m in no mood for one of your jokes, Clare,” Celia said, frowning.
    â€œIt’s no joke,” Fitzclarence assured her, seizing her by the hand. “You are desired this instant. Upon my honor, ’tis true,” he insisted in response to her obvious doubt.
    â€œOh, yes?” Celia scoffed at him, her hands on her hips. “And what, pray, does the Duchess of Berkshire want with me?”
    â€œThe name of your modiste, perhaps,” he quipped. “Or, possibly, acting lessons? I suppose she means to congratulate you on your performance. Is it so strange? You were utterly divine tonight.”
    For once, flattery seemed to have no effect on the actress. “But, surely—Surely I am quite beneath the notice of such a lady,” Celia protested. “I’m hardly Sarah Siddons, am I? I’m only an actress, for heaven’s sake!”
    â€œOh, that’s perfect,” he congratulated her. “That’s just the right touch of humility. Play it just like that, my dear, and you’ll have the old bitch eating out of your hand in no time at all.”
    â€œNo, thank you,” Celia said tartly. “I’d rather not be nibbled on, if it’s all the same to you.”
    â€œHer Grace might be after wanting you for a private performance, Celia darling,” Rourke suggested. “There’s money in that.”
    Celia’s expression hardened. “Celia St. Lys is not available for private performances,” she announced. “If anyone wants to see me, he or she can bloody well buy a ticket.”
    â€œI wouldn’t put it quite like that to Her Grace,” Rourke advised her lightly.
    â€œI shan’t put it to Her Grace at all,” Celia declared. “I haven’t the slightest intention of putting myself on display in the Green Room tonight. I’m tired and I’m hungry. I want my supper. Tell Her Grace I’ve left the theatre already.”
    â€œBut Her Grace does you great honor,” Rourke protested, “and ’tis a great fool you’d be to go offending her.”
    â€œHe’s right, Celia,” Fitzclarence told the actress. “She’s not just any old duchess, you know. She’s one of the patronesses of the ton.”
    Celia laughed scornfully. “So? I ain’t a debutante. What can she do to me? Revoke my vouchers to Almack’s? Somehow I think I’ll survive Her Grace’s disapprobation.”
    â€œDon’t be a fool, Celia,” he cautioned her. “One cannot snub a duchess.”
    â€œWhy not?” she wanted to know. “Where is it written that an actress may not snub a duchess? This may be my only chance to do so.”
    â€œShe has brought her son with her,” said Fitzclarence persuasively.
    Celia lifted her brows.