Page 8 of A Contracted Spouse for the Prizefighter

She kept her eyes on this instead of engaging with anyone over their evening meal, and though she heard snatches of some murmured conversation between the other three, she kept to herself, pondering her thoughts. A reckless sort of plan was forming in the back of her mind. Whenever it swam to the front of her thoughts, she almost gasped at its audacity. Did she really have the nerve to do such a thing?

What had been the name of the music hall establishment Lil had said Clem Dabney ran? The Sun and Eagle? Or was it The Eagle and Sun? Whichever it had been, it was in Shoreditch, she remembered that much. Did she really have the nerve to approach the likes of Mr. Dabney with her scheme? He coveted The Parthenon. If he were to marry her, then he would get his hands on a quarter share.

Would that be incentive enough, she wondered, for him to accept her act and give her a spot at his music hall? Of course, if he married her, he would also get his hands on her. She almost dropped her fork as she considered this, fanning herself with her napkin. He would not be remotely interested in her person, she told herself firmly.

Quite the ladykiller. Was that not how he had been described? She felt a shiver of apprehension down her spine. A little voice whispered in her ear that perhaps Mrs. Cherwell’s suggestion had more merit than her own. After all, she admired Harold and had even nurtured a small tendresse for him these past few years. Would it not be more sensible to approach Harold with an offer of marriage, rather than Clem Dabney, who was no more than a disreputable stranger?

Theo bit her lip. But no, her admiration of Harold was all in the past, she recalled pressing her lips together. The sad truth was that she had never inspired a stronger feeling in Harold’s bosom than mere friendship. Even that had proved no more than tepid, for he had conspired with Felix against her. She cast a brief look at Harold, so burning that he dropped his spoon into his bowl and splashed Windsor soup all up his front.

“Steady on, old son,” Felix cautioned him as Harold murmured apologies and dabbed himself with a napkin.

Theo returned to her thoughts. No, it would have to be Dabney, she decided, stiffening her resolve. Even if by some miracle she managed to convince Harold to tie his lot to hers, Mrs. Cherwell was quite right. He would not have it in him to insist she retained her stage career; her brother would walk all over him. Dabney it was.

At six o’clock she headed for the hallway and donned her hat and cloak in readiness for Vincent’s arrival. The hulking doorman always escorted her and Hetty to the theatre for their evening performances. He was prompt as always, and Theo dropped behind as she always did during this walk to and from the theatre.

This was not because she was shunning Vinnie’s company, but rather due to her habit. She always allowed the great hulking doorman to have his few prized moments together with the object of his affections.

It was true, he barely spoke, and only allowed himself the briefest and most respectful glances in Hetty’s direction, but still, Theo could tell, indeed she had always known that Vincent was completely smitten with Henrietta. It was evident in so many ways: the look in his eye, the softened tone when he spoke to her, a slight almost bashfulness that entered his manner whenever he was around her.

Henrietta knew it too, of course, Theo was almost convinced, although her sister, who was the soul of discretion and decorum, never alluded to it. Hetty’s manner toward Vincent was kind, though perfectly correct at all times. She addressed him as “Vincent” never Vinnie as most of the other theatre folk did. Hetty thanked him prettily every time they reached their destination. She affected not to notice that his manner was different toward her than it was to anyone else.

Of course, she would never look upon him as a possible suitor, Theo reflected sadly. Vinnie’s size and craggy face made him seem older than his thirty years. It was not just his plain looks, but his low station in life that were held against him. Hetty was the biggest snob in their family. Even Felix prized artistic endeavor above virtue of birth, but her sister did not feel the same way, and it was her biggest failing in Theo’s book, for Vinnie was worth ten of that pompous ass Matthew Hillingdon!

The evening performance went off without hitch, though the paying public was in sparse attendance. In truth, Theo’s role in The Faithful Shepherdess was only small. She still gave it her all on stage. How could she fail to do otherwise when every fiber of her being strained toward those few brief moments? However, the part of a naïve shepherd youth was far from taxing, and she barely had any time at all on stage in the last act.

She spent the time in her shared dressing room with a blanket thrown over her frilly shirt, frowning furiously and scrawling notes for her new act. There were several of the songs Harold had penned for The Turtle Doves that she thought could be adapted with little effort and without the aid of a professional songwriter.

Theo sat with the existing lyrics and painstakingly wrote her own above them. Music hall songs relied on a catchy tune, a rousing chorus, and a good deal of double entendre. What if she were to alter Harold’s rather bland sentiments about pure love to something more suggestive, concerning the physical act of love?

Theo bit her lip and crossed out “He’s never lost his heart before, but kept his mother’s tenets hallowed” with “He’s never dipped his toe before, just shilly-shallied in the shallows.” Theo gave an undignified snort of laughter and expounded on the theme throughout the rest of the verses.

It was true, her cheeks felt a little over-warm by the end of it. Alright, so the song was now a little racy, but music hall was racy was it not? One worry continued to plague her, which was whether or not Harold would be offended by her dragging his ditties into the dirt. She paused to consider this seriously a moment, gnawing on her pencil end.

On reflection, she did not think she needed to take Harold’s feelings into account for he had made it very clear that he thought the songs he had penned were mere trifles and she doubted very much that he would ever sit through her new act. Why should he when he so clearly did not prize her friendship?

Her concerns however could not be so easily dismissed. He might think them mere dross, but at the end of the day, the songs were his intellectual property, strictly speaking. She would have to speak to Harold at some point, she concluded with a sigh, before shutting her notebook and hurrying off to perform her last bow.

Her mind was elsewhere as the curtain swept down and Theo made her way backstage. She was still a few doors away from her own dressing room when she heard the muffled sobs. Surely that was Lil’s room? “Lil?” She knocked softly on the door. “Can I come in?”

There was no answer, and tentatively, Theo pushed the door open. Lil never stood on ceremony, so Theo decided to take a leaf out of her book. She found her friend still in her shepherdess costume, scrambling for a handkerchief before pressing it to her eyes.

“Don’t mind me, love,” her friend sniffed. “Just feeling a bit sorry for meself.”

“Whatever’s happened?” Theo asked, shutting the door resolutely behind her. “Tell me.”

Lil dropped down into a rickety chair. “I been let go, that’s what. Your brother had a word with me this afternoon.”

“What?” Theo gasped.

Lil nodded. “After The Faithful Shepherdess runs its course, I’m out on my ear.”

“He can’t do that!” Theo fumed.

“Afraid he can, love,” Lil said sadly. “He already has.” Her face crumpled. “What am I going to tell my old girls?” she asked, referring to her dependents. Her retired and near-blind ex-dresser Peggy and her mother-in-law, both of whom she had supported for years. The three of them lived in two rooms above a grocer’s shop. “We live near enough hand to mouth as it is. Without my wages, we’ll be out on the street.” She balled up her tissue in her fist, blinking fiercely to hold back more tears.

“I’ll tell you what you’re going to tell them,” Theo announced. “You are going to tell them you’ve thrown your lot in with mine. I need a partner for my new act and you’re it.”

That caught Lil’s attention. She lowered her handkerchief. “Partner?” she repeated blankly.