Love in Disguise by Nina Coombs Pykare Read Free Book Online

cried Castleford, who had been witnessing this exchange of barbs with great concentration.
    Morgane ignored his friend. “Why can’t you behave like a sensible woman? Sell that big house, find yourself a decent husband, and raise a family. You are not meant for the theater.”
    “You are wrong,” cried Fancy, forgetting her throbbing head in a rush of anger. “The theater is my life. I will not give it up. Not you or all the rioters in the world can make me.”
    “As I said,” replied Morgane, smiling darkly, “you are a fool.”
    Fancy, whose fingers had again come to rest on the powder box, fought down the urge to hurl it at this infuriating man. She would not give him that satisfaction.
    “If you will excuse me for a moment,” said the Earl, reaching for his coat. He shrugged into it and in spite of its having been folded and lain on, it showed hardly a wrinkle. It was cut so well that it clung to each muscle and curve and wrinkles were, perforce, stretched out.
    The Earl returned his attention to Fancy. “I imagine that Henry will be here soon. Therefore I propose that Castleford and myself wait outside while you change.” His eyes met hers. “Thus not offending your maidenly modesty.”
    Fancy’s fingers closed once more around the powder box, but Morgane, letting his gaze linger there, remarked sardonically, “That would certainly be a peculiar mode of repayment for your rescue. But should the fancy move you, my dear, feel free to hurl it at me. I have never been one to stand in the way of a lady’s pleasure.”
    And the Earl and his friend leisurely stepped out, closing the door behind them.
    For a few moments Fancy’s fingers trembled so that she was unable to undo the costume, but finally she managed and struggled into her own clothes. As she settled before the mirror to remove her makeup, she scowled at the reflection there. Two great green eyes stared back at her out of a face white as flour. She looked just ghastly. Fancy thought angrily, as she scrubbed away.
    Finally she surveyed herself in the mirror. She did not want to face the top-lofty Earl again, but neither did she want to remain alone in the dressing room. And so she moved hesitantly to the door and steeled herself to meet those lazy gray eyes. But it was not the Earl’s lean figure that stood there, but Henry’s familiar one. With a cry of relief, she collapsed against him. “Oh, Henry, please take me home.”
     

Chapter Four
     
    The next morning found Fancy in much better spirits. She was really none the worse for her experience. She did notice several bruises on her upper arms but they were minor matters, not worth fussing over. The terror of the night before had already started to fade. And, after all, Fancy had made the theater her life. One bad experience would not turn her against it.
    She said this to Ethel very plainly as she breakfasted on the substantial plate of ham, muffins, eggs, and sipped her tea. “You cannot expect me to give up my life’s work,” she insisted, “simply because some foolish men want to riot.”
    “It ain’t safe,” replied Ethel sourly. “You might get pulled off the stage again and this time there wouldn’t be no Earl there to save you.”
    Fancy wrinkled her nose. “The Earl of Morgane is far too high in the instep. He needs taken down.”
    Ethel shook her head dolefully. “No good comes from mixing with them quality folks. They’s different somehow.” From Ethel’s glum expression it was evident that she did not find the difference to her liking.
    Fancy’s laughter rang out. “Oh, Ethel. They’re not that bad.”
    “Humph! Haven’t none of ‘em been to see you, have they? Or even spoke to you on the street?”
    Fancy’s eyes danced. “The gentlemen have been very kind. They always nod when we pass.”
    “Humph!” repeated Ethel. “Gentlemen, indeed. They all got an eye for one thing. You mark my words. It was a bad day when we come to St. James’s Square. A bad day all