Wicked and Wonderful by Valerie King Read Free Book Online

always a strange gasping sound that came from the audience as though she gave them a shock, and then silence would ensue.
    However, since this was very familiar to her, her confidence increased. She nodded to Margaret and the first notes from the pianoforte drifted into the expansive theater. From the corner of her eye she could see that Lord Kelthorne’s mouth was agape and somehow his shock sufficed to relieve her of the rest of her fears and thus she began to sing one of her favorite songs, ‘My Mother Bids Me Bind My Hair.’
    *** *** ***
    Kelthorne stared and listened and stared a little more. Good God, the young woman he had kissed three nights past was now standing on the stage before him. And her voice. How completely such sounds could charm any ear. Such purity, such feeling, such ease of delivery, such gentleness of gesture. Her gaze swept over the audience, back and forth like the gentle rocking of a boat. The effect was mesmerizing. The audience around him sighed and sighed again.
    Was this truly the young woman he had kissed? Of course, he recognized her, but the darkness of the night had not done her the smallest justice. She was absolute perfection, the lovely oval of her face, the cream of her complexion, the magnificent cascade of chestnut waves, and the soulful gaze of her warm brown eyes. How his heart hammered in his chest as he gazed upon her. Was this truly the creature he had held in his arms? Was she truly a songstress, an actress, traveling with the troupe?
    Suddenly, he realized he had been duped. She had denied being with the troupe and he had believed her. Did she know, therefore, that he had spent three days searching the West Country for her? Undoubtedly.
    So she was essentially an actress, a lady of the stage. Better and better. Well, he had known a number in his career and they were all relatively the same, talented, lovely, scintillating to kiss, but as avaricious as a child before a sweet shop. Oh, yes, he had known a few but never had he been so tricked.
    Judith Lovington’s accent had been perfection when he had caught her in the orchard and heard her speaking to Rufus. He had never considered for a moment that she was anything but a gentlewoman out for a lark.
    Now, however, his blood began to burn within him. All that he could see presently was the absolute necessity of taking another kiss, and hopefully much more, from the lady now singing with every effort to create a portrait of complete innocence.
    When Judith—for she would never be Miss Lovington to him—had sung the last note, a silence held the air for several remarkable seconds followed by a pounding of applause that rose to the rafters.
    He and Laurence were both on their feet at once.
    “Extraordinary,” he said, nudging Kelthorne.
    “She is the one.”
    “What?” Laurence said, the applause in the hall still deafening. He leaned close to listen.
    “She is the one,” Kelthorne repeated.
    “The one what?”
    Kelthorne just looked at him with a cocked brow.
    “Good God. Do you mean the one in the orchard?”
    Kelthorne nodded.
    “Well, don’t you have the devil’s own luck.”

Chapter Three
    “I must see her,” Kelthorne said, the moment the entire troupe took their final bows.
    Laurence clapped him on the shoulder. “I would have supposed no less of you, my good man.”
    Kelthorne made his way to the stage entrance and found a throng in high gig milling about.
    Finally, he reached the front of the crowd intending to do what he usually did in such situations—slip a sovereign into the hand of whatever burly fellow had been assigned the task of keeping undesirables from the premises.
    Instead, however, he found two of the actors, standing shoulder to shoulder, refusing admittance even to the most exalted of persons. He was told that the ladies of the troupe could only be seen by permission of the requested lady.
    Kelthorne smiled and proffered his card with a practiced flip of his wrist. The taller of the two