Page 7 of A Contracted Spouse for the Prizefighter

Theo almost jumped out of her skin. “Oh, Mrs. Cherwell, how you startled me. Clothes? These clothes, you mean?” she asked airily glancing down at her arm. “I just—er—thought I would check it over for any possible repairs that might be needed.”

Mrs. Cherwell looked unimpressed by this claim. “You and I both know Master Felix ain’t worn them in a twelvemonth,” she said severely.

Theo considered what reply to make. Moths perhaps? Then again, it might be simpler just to lay her cards on the table. “In truth, I mean to repurpose these garments for my own nefarious ends, Mrs. Cherwell,” she admitted abruptly.

“To what purpose?” asked the older woman, narrowing her eyes.

“Revenge,” Theo pronounced with relish.

“Revenge?” Mrs. Cherwell’s head jerked back, her mob cap slipping to one side.

Theo nodded. “Yes, for despite the fact my uncle left me an equal share in The Parthenon, my brother has cruelly decided to force me off the stage. He has dashed all my long-cherished dreams and ground them in the dust.” She did not trouble to keep the bitterness from her voice and Mrs. Cherwell eyed her silently as she turned over these words.

Theo knew she was not the housekeeper’s favorite, for Mrs. Cherwell favored the menfolk over her fellow women. Still, there was a chance she could win her over, given her brother had recently blotted his copybook. “In fact, Felix has been making a few unilateral decisions of late that I do not agree with,” she continued coolly.

Two spots of high color instantly appeared on Mrs. Cherwell’s cheeks. “You and me both!” she huffed. “Just between us, I fear Master Felix is getting a bit above ‘imself!”

Theo nodded. “I’m afraid he is rather,” she agreed. “Uncle Barnabus would never have countenanced such changes.”

“I’ll say he wouldn’t!” Mrs. Cherwell responded, warming to the theme. “The old master would of never put me out on the street!” She touched the corner of her apron to her eyes before they fell once more on the clothing looped over Theo’s arm. “What you going to do wiv ‘em?” she asked with sudden curiosity.

“I would rather not make you complicit, Mrs. Cherwell,” Theo said grandly. “That way, if my brother should ask, you can tell him quite truthfully you have no notion what has become of them.”

“Huh!” replied the housekeeper. “As if I’d lose a wink of sleep over lying to the likes of ‘im!”

Theo’s lips twitched for a moment before she grew grave again. “Will you really be destitute, Mrs. Cherwell? If you lose your post here, I mean?”

The other woman’s shoulders slumped. “As good as,” she admitted flatly. “My ‘Erbert ain’t been able to work in nine months, not since getting injured at the warehouse.”

“I am sorry,” Theo said sincerely, then hesitated. “I do have a plan of sorts,” she confided, “and if I should be lucky and manage to succeed, then perhaps …”

Mrs. Cherwell shook her head sadly. “If it’s Master Allsop you’re pinning your hopes on, then I fear you’ll be sadly disappointed.”

Theo felt herself color hotly. “Master Allsop?” she repeated. Damn it, did everyone think she was sweet on Harold?

“I got eyes in me ‘ead, don’t I? And even if you did manage to get him up the aisle, he’d never have the nerve to stand up against that brother of yours,” Mrs. Cherwell pronounced glumly. “Not even though you’d own the lion’s share of the theatre between you.”

The lion’s share? Theo blinked realizing Mrs. Cherwell spoke nothing but the truth, for Harold owned twenty-five percent and so did she. Between the two of them … She stared at the other woman with dawning appreciation. “Such a thing never once occurred to me,” she admitted, feeling impressed the no-nonsense housekeeper was capable of such Machiavellian plotting. She gave herself a shake to gather herself. “But in any case, Harold does not figure in my stratagem at all.”

Mrs. Cherwell looked skeptical, crossing her arms over her ample bosom. “What is it then?” she asked, suddenly curious. “Your plan, I mean?”

“It’s … well, it’s rather complicated and hard to explain,” Theo admitted, her gaze dropping.

“’Spose you think I’d be better off not knowing about this neither!” Mrs. Cherwell sniffed.

“Well, not until after the fact,” Theo agreed.

Mrs. Cherwell huffed. “After all, what have I got to lose?” She shrugged after a moment’s consideration. “You’ll keep me updated, I daresay.”

“I most certainly will.”

The older woman gave her a hard look, then nodded and moved away. Theo slumped back against Felix’s door a moment, then rallied herself and hurried off to her room with her illicit stash of men’s clothing. She could not wait to try them on!

THREE

Theo passed a very satisfactory day practicing her male mannerisms before the looking glass and trying on her brother’s old clothes. They were not an exact fit but were close enough to perfect the illusion.

She remained in her room all afternoon, even when Felix and Hetty returned at about four o’clock. Dinner was served at half past five, and once again, conversation was desultory at the table. Theo took the dress pattern she was currently working on down with her to study for she could not make head nor tail of it at present.