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His wife was so bold and creative, Clem acknowledged all over again. She read the audience and played off the other cast members so well. She was just a delight to watch. He was fascinated, fucking fascinated, there was no other word for it. He stared just as avidly as the rest of them. He’d bet Dora could even make Shakespeare watchable.

When in the third and final act, she delivered Ralph’s lines on being refused by the heroine, she looked more wryly regretful than anything. Something about the way she delivered “couldn’t you, Dorinda?” managed to convey Ralph was more disappointed by Dorinda than by the rejection itself. As though he had hoped she would see past his lack of polish, to his underlying heart of gold. It was as though you got to watch Ralph fall out of love with the heroine in that instant before your very eyes.

The discontented murmur in the cheap seats drew a half-smile from Clem. It was obvious where their sympathies lay. “You daft cow!” burst out one vocal female to a rumble of agreement. “’E’s worth ten of that twerp you’ve taken up wiv!”

The gallery shushed noisily, and finally Henrietta was able to speak her tearful lines of regret on breaking her youthful admirer’s heart. Hisses and suppressed boos greeted her words and Clem felt Vincent stir with annoyance at this hostile reception to his fiancée’s performance. To add insult to injury, Vincent’s own guest, Mrs. Warrender, was huffing and puffing with indignation. “What’s she want to go and do a thing like that for?” she asked loudly and discontentedly.

Too bad, thought Clem, his smile fast becoming a broad grin. Dora was the crowd favorite here, even Florrie Foss’s cameo as a frolicsome young widow could not charm them away for long from Ralph’s corner. At the conclusion, her bow drew the biggest cheers and a standing ovation. Whistles and cries of Dora! and even Good for Percy! rang out about the auditorium.

Felix would have to write Ralph some more lines, Clem decided, swiftly standing and excusing himself from the rest of the box to make his way to her dressing room. They were meeting the others in an hour’s time for a celebratory meal at Wards Hotel in any case.

Right now, though, Clem needed to see her flushed with success, wearing breeches with her shirt open at her neck. He wanted to put his lips there, right at the base of her throat and to taste her sweat. And she would be sweaty after her stage performance. It was strange to think that before Dora, Clem had always liked women perfumed and powdered and dressed up to the nines. That seemed a long time ago now. A long, long time ago.

Thank God she had her own dressing room these days.

Two years later, Paris.

So, this was Paris, Theo thought with a contented sigh as she and Clem strolled along hand in hand. She was wearing one of her newest and favorite dresses in a flaming burnt orange satin. It was bold and it drew the eye and Theo adored it.

No pattern was too complicated or concept too outlandish for Miss Clegg to tackle. Miss Clegg had in fact become Mrs. Grigson nine months ago, but she still made all of Theo’s gowns, and over the past two years, she had introduced a dazzling array of colors and fabrics to her wardrobe. No more did Theo espouse the cause of naturally dyed fabrics. She flaunted like a peacock these days in her finery, though she still adhered to the principles of artistic dress.

Theo also did not trouble to wear her false ringlets much anymore, except for Albert’s benefit when he took her out to lunch. Albert was still sadly conventional in his outlook, but she forgave him as he was an unending source of amusement.

Only last month she had bought him a pocket watch for his fifteenth birthday, something he had longed for ever since his brother had bought himself a fine one. Theo had Albert’s engraved With dearest love from Dora which had both highly gratified Albert and caused Clem to narrow his eyes at her.

“You are determined to keep me on my toes, Mrs. Dabney,” he had complained. “You just wait till Jim hears about this.”

Dora had laughed. “Jim will say it is quite your own fault,” she had told him roundly, “for like Sidney, he is always on my side.”

“Don’t I know it,” Clem had complained, but she knew he didn’t really mind at all.

“I must send a telegram to Lil after lunch, do not let me forget,” she said, pausing to consult her travel guide. “I think we need to turn left down here. Lil said that she and Johnny found a wonderful café on their second honeymoon that we simply must visit.”

Lil had kept her husband dangling for six months before she had agreed officially to their reconcilement. She had blown hot one day and cold the next, allowing his attentions one minute and refusing them the next. Theo had almost felt sorry for him, but both she and Mother Longdon had agreed that Lil deserved to call the tune when it came to his second attempt at wooing.

Indeed, Johnny Longdon had been on the brink of despair before he hit on the happy notion of buying pretty silk shawls not only for his mother and Lil but also for Peggy, which had finally touched Lil’s heart. Shrewdly, realizing this one gesture had won him more favor than anything else, Johnny started making up to Peggy, sitting with her and reading aloud to her and including her on all the outings and treats he showered upon Lil and his mother.

Peggy consequently became Johnny’s greatest advocate, and when he eventually bought a smart townhouse in Belgravia, he made it clear that his dearest wish, after achieving his wife’s forgiveness, was for Peggy and his mother to make their home with him also. He insisted on their input in even the smallest detail, soliciting Lil’s taste in carpets and furnishings, even when she was adamant she still had no intention of ever living with him again.

Despite the fact Theo and Lil only appeared twice a month now at The Eagle and Sun, she had claimed her career came first and foremost and her love life a poor second. Johnny had solemnly sworn that he would never stand in the way of her acting ever again. Finally, after the amount of pleading that Lil deemed appropriate, she relented, and the Longdons moved into their new plush residence along with Peggy. In fact, the only member of the family who was not allowed to darken their doorstep was Marianne Longdon, who was outraged to find her brother had no intention of forgiving her.

From time to time, her mother would still meet with her for tea and cakes, and on those occasions, she made sure to speak at great length about dear Lillian’s new diamond bracelets or the portrait Johnny had commissioned of his wife which now hung above their fireplace in pride of place. Marianne gnashed her teeth with envy whenever she heard of her brother’s extravagance, but she could not stop herself from making enquiries, presumably to report back to her employee, Mrs. Montague-Smythe.

“We also have to find that music hall Allsop told us of,” Clem reminded her mildly. “The one with the cancan girls.”

Theo laughed. “Mrs. Cherwell was quite scandalized that he admitted to visiting it on his European tour last year.”

Despite everyone’s whispered conjecture about which of the Misses Stepsons Harold might be sweet on, the person he actually ended up spending most of his time with these days was Eddie. In fact, the burly doorman had ended up moving into Harold’s attic rooms with him after some falling out with his own landlord.

This was initially meant to be a temporary arrangement, but somehow twelve months later, Eddie had become so firm a fixture at Number 6 Juniper Row, that no one even dreamed of asking when he would leave. Eddie was extremely useful when it came to fixing loose skirting boards and tidying the unkempt garden. He had many useful skills which the rest of Theo’s impractical family lacked. It made him invaluable about the place.

Eddie and Harold had not only toured Europe together, but they traveled to and from The Eagle and The Parthenon as required, in each other’s company. Clem, when organizing the rotas, made sure their schedules coincided. “It has all worked out so well,” Henrietta had remarked before Clem and Theo’s sendoff dinner. “One could almost wish the two of them remain our unmarried lodgers forever. Is that so very selfish of me?” she had asked turning to her husband.

Vincent had cleared his throat, but Felix had interrupted at this point. “I don’t think we need to worry about that, old girl,” he had said firmly. “Confirmed bachelors the both of them. I daresay they’ll be rattling around in our attics till they’re old and gray.”

“Hear, hear!” Theo had said enthusiastically.

As Eddie had come lumbering into the dining room by this point, with Harold close on his heels, the conversation was swiftly changed to that of Vincent and Henrietta’s first-born child which was due that summer and much anticipated. Names and possible godparents were floated and discussed at every meal with much enthusiasm.