Page 5 of A Contracted Spouse for the Prizefighter

The cab lurched off and Theo felt a sudden impulse to ward off her brother’s little talk. She could already tell from Hetty’s words earlier that it would not bode well for her. “I think Hillingdon must have collected Hetty from the theatre again today,” she said, patting the shallow pockets of her coat.

“What are you doing?” Felix asked irritably.

“Looking for a handkerchief,” she admitted.

“Really that coat … It’s not fit to be seen in,” he replied, eyeing the garment she had worn in the winter for the past three years.

“What is wrong with it?”

“Why is it so shapeless?” he asked tetchily. “I can’t tell if it’s a cape or what it is.”

“It’s a paletot,” she told him. “I like it because it has pockets, even if they are not deep enough. You do not know the struggle,” she told him darkly, “of finding a woman’s outdoor coat which has pockets.”

Felix’s eyes had traveled up now to her disreputable woolen felt bonnet and he gave a slight shudder. Theo felt on slightly less certain ground here, as she knew the bonnet was in a rather sorry state. Still, it kept her ears warm, and that was all that counted, in her opinion, during the winter months. Both her siblings were fashionable dressers, whereas Theo adhered to the principles of comfort and practicality.

When her search proved fruitless, her brother sighed and passed her his own clean handkerchief. Theo accepted it, giving her nose a good blow. Doubtfully, she offered it back, and when he declined with a pained look, she tucked it gratefully into her sleeve.

“Theo,” he started again, “we must talk. It is long overdue, but with one thing and another …” His words trailed off and she eyed him uneasily.

“Talk about what?”

“Your future.”

Theo felt a wave of alarm break over her. She sat up straighter. “Yes?”

“Clearly, you have decided against the more conventional avenues open to you,” he said uneasily, his eyes darting all around the carriage rather than settling on her. She supposed acting was still considered unconventional for women, but as Felix himself was in the theatrical business, she thought it absurd of him to take so narrow a view.

“We need to face facts, however uncomfortable they might sit with us,” her brother said heavily. “Henrietta has told me her plans, and though it might be considered unfortunate for The Parthenon, I understand her viewpoint of course.”

Oh, he was talking about marriage, Theo realized belatedly. Marriage was the conventional avenue open to women. She opened her mouth, but he held up a hand to forestall her.

“I must ask you now to do something unselfish,” he said portentously. “Something which will allow me to focus solely on the future success of our business. Something which puts the theatre first.”

Theo was puzzled, but she nodded anyway. The Parthenon was always first and foremost in her thoughts. “I love the theatre, you know that—” she started, but he did not let her get any further.

“By offering me your assistance in the only way which materially helps me,” he insisted loudly.

Theo looked at his tense face. “And how is that precisely?” she asked, her brow furrowed. For the life of her, she could not see where this was going.

He took a deep breath. “I need you to pick up the running of the house,” he said flatly.

Theo’s mouth dropped open. “The house?” she squeaked.

He nodded. “I’ve given Mrs. Cherwell her notice. I need you to pick up the reins there, Theo. Meals, housekeeping, cleaning.” He waved a hand around. “Ordering coal and beef and tea and all the other millions of tasks traditionally associated with your sex.”

The house? Theo could not even find words, and after a heavy pause, Felix finally met her stunned gaze head-on. “You’re not … meant for the stage, Theo,” he said solemnly. “On some level, you must see that. You and Hetty have not been TheTurtle Doves for years. It ran its course. The act is finished. Over. There’s no room for me to insert my sisters into future plays. You need to be brave and realize where you will be best disposed to help in this family.”

“Best disposed?” Theo echoed. “I know nothing about running houses! No more than you!”

“Then you must learn. I am persuaded such things come easier to women.”

Theo spluttered. “I have no inclination to learn domestic tasks! Uncle certainly never expected that I should, and I think you take too much on yourself to give Mrs. Cherwell her notice before consulting the rest of us!”

Felix drew himself up. “Take too much on myself?” he repeated coldly. “I am the head of this family now, my girl, and you had best adjust your ideas accordingly! Uncle Barnabus is dead,” he said curtly. “We all miss him, but this ship needs to be steered on a new course. Currently, we are headed for disaster.”

“Finally, something we agree upon!”

He ignored her interruption. “We can ill afford Mrs. Cherwell’s wage in light of how things have been going with ticket sales. I have consulted with my—our—partner,” he corrected himself quickly, “and he agrees with me. Wholeheartedly.”