Chapter Twelve
With his agitation building the longer he kept his promise not to keep an eye on Boiselle, Adam sought the best remedy he could, Mary Jane. Her mother babbled in excitement when he asked to walk with her. “You honor us, sir, she’d be delighted to accompany you. Mary Jane!”
“I’m here, Mother.” She gracefully descended the last few steps of the staircase while tying her bonnet ribbons.
Just the sight of her calmed him, and when she smiled, he nearly drew her into his arms for a kiss. “You are lovely as always.”
He knew Mrs. Watson would take those few words and become the most sought after guest in tomorrow’s morning calls, but he didn’t care. He’d begun to believe he could promise her a future beside him. He’d have to settle for much less risky assignments, and still travel alone on occasion, but that was nothing he couldn’t bear if it meant marrying Mary Jane.
Mary Jane’s grip tightened and she pulled him closer after they heard the door close behind them and they went on their way.
“I still can’t give you many details, but I’m closer to being able to speak to your father.”
She dropped his arm.
“What did I say? I thought this was what you longed to hear?”
She stuck her nose in the air with a hmph. “You haven’t proposed to me yet.”
“And I won’t do so until I’m free to consider it for certain. I’m sorry, my love, it’s all I can promise.”
“Very well.” Her small grin told him she was teasing.
“Most of the knockers are off the doors, I see. Everyone is returning to the countryside.”
“Yes, the heat has already become miserable.”
“I assume your family resides here year-round?” She could take that as an insult, an assumption they weren’t as rich as many of the ton, but he doubted she would.
“That’s correct. Charlotte is here also, so we have good company.”
“Have you ever wanted to live elsewhere?”
“That’s a mixed question. My income wouldn’t suffice, were I to live on my own, so the only way that would be possible is if I marry. And since I’ve only recently considered the possibility of marriage, I haven’t given it a thought.”
“I have a cottage in Kent. It’s cooler than London in the summer, but the winters aren’t as harsh as in the north. It sits on a small piece of land with some pretty prospects. I enjoy walks there.” He chose his words carefully to not imply they were already engaged, but he was nearly ready to allow her to decorate his home to her tastes.
“It sounds lovely.”
“Plenty of room for children to play.”
Her hand tightened on his arm and he smiled. Yes, he needed a family. He wanted a family. He and Mary Jane suited too well, and he enjoyed her company too much to not make whatever changes he needed to make this happen.
Mary Jane pointed ahead. “Look, there’s Mr. Billups.” She waved as they drew closer.
“Miss Watson, I’ve missed your company. Will you be working this new production?”
Adam’s attention was piqued.
“I hadn’t heard they’d started rehearsals. Who are the lead actors?”
“Mr. Boiselle and Miss Clarke, again. Anyone of any talent has gone for the year.”
“I won’t be returning, but I’d love to see Miss Clarke again. You might see us soon.”
Mr. Billups tugged his hat brim and walked away.
“Would you mind, Adam? May we stop by before returning home?”
“I don’t see why not. It isn’t too far out of our way.” While the logical, sensible part of his mind yelled in protest, he hadn’t overcome the frustration in walking away from Boiselle.
Hiring a hack, Adam and Mary Jane were soon at the theatre, where they entered through the back door. Voices carried from the stage, so they made their way to the curtain, Mary Jane greeting acquaintances as they passed.
Boiselle and Miss Clarke were advanced enough in rehearsals to know their lines by rote, so opening day must be soon. Would the spy leave London when this play closed? It didn’t make a difference to Adam’s plans anymore, but he was curious.
When the scene ended, the actors came backstage. Mary Jane rushed to greet Miss Clarke, and appeared a bit hesitant when Boiselle said hello. “Mr. Tilney, your fans must be delighted to enjoy another performance from you.”
The actor’s chest puffed, and he smiled thinly. “Yes, they are. Will you be in the audience?”
“I’m not certain. I would hate to miss it.”
“You must come to dress rehearsal as my guests.” He eyed Adam, but hadn’t asked for an introduction, drawing Adam’s concern. “Thursday evening. Do come.”
“Thank you,” Mary Jane said.
Adam didn’t respond. Instead he took Mary Jane’s arm and left. Reaching the street where the hack waited, he helped her aboard. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea for us to go.”
“Why? He can’t do much with so many workers around. They know me, they would protect me.”
“He wouldn’t do anything in the open, I agree, but I don’t trust him.”
“Please? I haven’t watched a performance from in front of the curtain. I would dearly enjoy it.”
Her eyes pleaded even more than her words. Adam hated to disappoint her. All he’d done since they met is tell her no, or not now. She was correct that nothing could happen unnoticed, so his fears were ungrounded. He’d be at her side, so he’d be between her and any harm. “Very well, we’ll come.”
~~~
As she rode with Adam in his carriage one the way to the dress rehearsal, Mary Jane realized this was the first time they’d gone out in the evening together, instead of meeting at an assembly. Adam had stopped talking about his work and the need to wait to marry, but he hadn’t said anything to encourage her, either. As long as Father was happy, so was she.
The theatre manager greeted them warmly, and showed them to a box in the audience. “You’ll have the best view in the house,” he said before taking his leave.
Mary Jane leaned forward and looked at the seats below. “It’s smaller than Drury Lane, isn’t it? I never paid attention when I came onstage in rehearsals. With the bright lights, I couldn’t see past the first few rows.”
Adam said little while they waited, his eyes sweeping the room as if someone lurked in the darkness.
“You don’t think he recognized you, do you? Are we safe? I should have listened to you. Do you want to leave?” Her words poured out in a rush.
He patted her arm and wrapped his fingers around her hand. “We’ll be fine. I’ll never be completely relaxed when I’m not at home. I’ve spend too long having to watch my back.”
What a difficult life he’d lived. That he’d chosen it for himself didn’t decrease her sympathy, increasing her respect instead. No one she knew had joined the army or Navy, so she hadn’t considered the sacrifices those men and their families must endure. How lucky she was to have fallen in love with such an honorable man.
During intermission, a young woman entered their box. “Pardon me, miss, but Miss Clarke would like you to join her in her dressing room.”
Excitement bubbled up, but she remembered Adam’s caution. Tilting her head in question, she waited for his answer.
“Yes, go. You’ll enjoy seeing her.”
Leaving her shawl on her seat, she followed the young woman down the staircase and to a door outside. She thought it odd they didn’t go by wait of the stage, as she’d often done when she worked there, but the manager might not want them in the way of the stagehands.
When the woman turned in the opposite direction of the stage door, Mary Jane stopped and fisted her hands on her hips. “Where are you taking me?”
“To Miss Clarke, of course.” The woman waited.
Mary Jane turned to go back inside when a large, strong hand clamped over her mouth and an arm lifted her off the ground. She struggled, kicking, but her captor held her tightly. Once, she connected with his shin, which brought a small oomph, but didn’t slow him down.
He carried her to a carriage, tossing her inside the open door, where another man waited. He tied a rag around her mouth, stopping her screams.
“Quiet.” He forced her onto the seat beside him and kept his hand clamped on her arm. His fingers dug into her skin, the pain giving her something to focus on before panic completely set in. She had to remain clear-headed and watch for a way to escape.
If she couldn’t, Adam would come for her, she was confident in that.
The street noises got louder the longer they drove, unpolished accents shouting, babies crying. The smells grew rank, warning her they’d entered a poor area, where watchmen rarely went.
She was in trouble.