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He was a viscount, she an actress. He couldn’t marry her without causing a huge scandal and that’s besides the fact that he was still betrothed to another.
She licked her lips again. They went extremely dry. “When you can confidently say that those two things are true, we can talk about our possible future.”
He straightened, his eyes glittering with something unfathomable, then escorted her to the carriage and handed her inside. “I shall see you soon, then.”
* * *
Mick’s nose had healed nicely, albeit crookedly. A few days after Selena’s incident, he appeared at the theater for the first time after Richard had broken his nose.
Now that he was back, he was watching Jo with a menacing scowl.
He hadn’t approached her all day. And even when they had scenes together, he simply interacted with her as a character in a play and not in any other way. But that look in his eye had never left his face.
Jo tried not to care. She tried to act as though nothing was amiss, but in truth, Mick inspired fear.
Just remembering the grip he’d had on her hair as he pushed her down, and the fact that she would never be able to fight him off no matter how hard she tried, had her shaking.
She was not a frightened little child. But she wasn’t a fool, either. A man with Mick’s constitution could do whatever he wanted to her in a narrow corridor or in her tiny dressing room.
And if he did, no one would do anything about it.
Richard would, her heart reminded her.
Yes, he would. But Richard had done enough. She couldn’t keep running to him with her tail between her legs every time something bothered her.
She’d always prided herself on being able to take care of herself. She would need to deal with this problem on her own.
Besides, what would Richard do except for pummeling the man half to death? As satisfying as it was to imagine such a thing, it would only make matters worse.
She prayed that her plays would be accepted by the Covent Garden Theatre. Then, she would be able to move on from this dreadful place.
Jo walked to her dressing room and noticed another bouquet of flowers on her vanity table.
Richard had resumed sending her flowers with romantic notes inside ever since their last encounter. Different flowers, and a different message inside, all telling her the same thing. He cared. He wanted her back.
He didn’t do anything more. He didn’t come to see her, neither did he beg her to come to him, but Jo felt her heart relenting.
She loved him. It was difficult to stay mad forever at the man whom she loved. Especially after he’d helped her friend.
But she also knew that he was still betrothed and while that was true, no matter her feelings, she could not go against herself and pursue him.
She’d told him her conditions. If he decided he wanted her back, he would abide by them.
Jo didn’t know exactly how their relationship would work. He wouldn’t marry her as long as she acted. Hell, even if she stopped, it would bring an enormous scandal to his title. An actress marrying a viscount?
This was unheard of!
And if he didn’t set her up in a townhouse close by, how would they even maintain a relationship?
Would he come to the tiny room she rented from Mrs. Digby? Now that, she wanted to see. A chuckle left her lips as she fondled the petals of the flower between her fingers. Richard was so tall and wide-shouldered that he’d probably take up all the room in her tiny quarters. There would be no place for anything else.
And that was if Mrs. Digby even allowed him in. Only females were allowed in her boarding house, and, viscount or not, Richard was not a female. Therefore, he would probably be refused access.
Jo chuckled, imagining the confrontation between the tiny Mrs. Digby and the formidable viscount. Then she noted the papers on the table. She hadn’t had time to read them yet.
She kept checking the papers for any mention of Richard’s marriage or lack thereof. That small smile on his lips as he promised to come to her next time without being attached to another woman still haunted her to this day.
She’d believed him. Again. Was she a fool?
