Everything I Ever Wanted by Jo Goodman Read Free Book Online

see her. It is too bad of you, South. But there you have it; Welsley says we cannot go, because it would cause a stir and hardly be fair to Miss Parr. He says we shall have to wait until the gossip is well behind us."
    South said nothing. He reflected that if the colonel did not remove him from this assignment, the real gossip was only about to begin.
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    Chapter Two
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    Five nights later, Southerton found himself once again at the Drury Lane Theatre. The same place where the great Edmund Kean had made his debut as Shylock four years earlier was enjoying renewed interest and patronage because of one India Parr. Kean himself, never effusive in his praise of a rival, had embraced her talents rather than stand in opposition to the public clamor for more performances from their new favorite. Unlike the revered Sarah Siddons, who first trod the boards in Drury Lane more than a quarter of a century before, India Parr was not foremost a tragic actress. It was widely agreed that while her tragic heroines were most excellently realized, Miss Parr had a particular gift for the nuance of character in the comedies, and the sharp timing and physical humor of farces.
    Southerton was but a face in the crowd on this occasion, purposely avoiding East's box tonight. He sat six rows back from the stage, his broad shoulders uncomfortably squeezed between a heavily perfumed matron on his left and a dandy in daffodil on his right. It was a tribute to India Parr's talents that South was able to entirely ignore the discomfort to his hunched shoulders, the musky fragrance, and so much blinding yellow until the performance was ended.
    He remembered with some regret his backhanded critique of the play as not being as amusing as the company he had been keeping. South now realized he had a second apology to make to Miss Parr. It was amusing. This evening's crowd had done much more than politely titter at the risque moments and ribald humor. They had laughed deeply and loudly and long, unembarrassed by the French playwright's frankly sexual themes and his assault on the secret mores of a society that was at once free to act and hopelessly repressed from doing so.
    Southerton joined the patrons who had come to their feet, adding his standing approbation to the enthusiastic applause. He watched the company step forward, bow in unison, and gesture once again to their leading lady. It was hard to believe the hand-clapping could sustain itself, let alone grow louder, yet both these things occurred as India Parr came front and center and made her deep curtsy. Candlelight glowed warmly on the nape of her neck as she modestly inclined her head toward her audience and accepted their admiration.
    She had won them over, and no further gesture was required, yet she did a surprising thing then that effectively secured her place in their hearts. Standing once more, Miss India Parr stepped as close to the footlamps as she dared and applauded her audience.
    The house fairly erupted.
    When the acting troupe disappeared into the wings, and the echoes of approval gave way to the crowd's exiting hum, Southerton moved into the aisle and no farther. He allowed anyone who desired it to precede him toward the exits. Finally, when there was no one around, he chose a seat on the end and sat, thrusting his long legs into the aisle and folding his arms across his chest. He lounged comfortably for the better part of half the hour before rising and heading in the direction of Miss Parr's dressing room.
    The crowd had not thinned appreciably. South considered the damage to the line of his wool frock coat and claw-hammer tails if he were to become part of the crush. He leaned a shoulder against the wall and smoothed one crisp corner of his white stock as he applied himself to the problem. Miss Parr's dresser, so helpful the other evening, seemed to be occupied elsewhere tonight. Perhaps she was staying away at the express orders of Miss Parr herself, or perhaps, as South