Page 82 of A Contracted Spouse for the Prizefighter

Clem relaxed. The future could be as near or far away as one desired. To the hypothetical cottage that he meant to stash Dora in, he now added a child. That would keep her busy alright, feeding it pudding and reading it pamphlets about rational dress. A sudden thought occurred to him.

“You had better put your device in, love.”

He wasn’t quite ready for her to disappear off to that cottage just yet.

TWENTY

The next morning, Theo woke early enough to wring a promise out of Clem to take her with him to The Eagle. Perhaps too, he felt he could not fail to reciprocate after she had taken him to The Parthenon the night before.

She chattered excitedly all through breakfast until Felix begged her to give them all some peace and then caused a delay in their departure, first flying upstairs to fetch her notebook to take with her and then failing to find one of her shoes. Clem bore all this patiently, though Dora fancied she heard her brother make some crack about her being scatterbrained.

Clem was quiet on their journey there, reminding her more than once that he would be busy, and she would be left to her own devices. She assured him this was no more than she expected and beamed at him, even though he looked unusually serious. After that, Dora sneaked a few looks at him but otherwise held her tongue. He was in a strange mood, she thought.

Maybe it was something to do with confiding in her his longing for a family the night before. That had been a bit of a surprise and she considered it now in the gray light of morning. Could he have been in earnest about a baby?

He had seemed very excited by such talk, but then again, maybe it was just a passing whim. He had not mentioned children before when they had arranged their union and he certainly had raised no objection to her request to use contraception.

When they reached the concert rooms, he took her straight to his office and helped unbundle her from her paletot, muffler, gloves, and bonnet. The latter, she managed to remove without taking out her hairpiece at the same time. He hung these up and then regarded her moodily. “Now how are you going to occupy yourself?”

“I am going to see if anyone is using the stage, and if not, I am going to take some measurements,” she said, holding up her tape measure, pencil, and notebook.

“I see,” he said skeptically, then waved a hand. “Well, by all means, be my guest.”

If she wasn’t mistaken, his eyes dwelled a moment on her moss green dress a moment with disfavor before she took herself off. In fact, she really wasn’t sure Clem appreciated her clothes at all, except for the fact he found them unusually easy to access.

Theo did not think he had truly liked even her outfit the night before which was a shame, for she thought it became her well. He had complimented her, it was true, but he had made no mention of her favorite gown with its high fitted bodice in a rust-colored velvet and trailing skirts in a sort of pale tea color.

She had teamed it up with long evening gloves, and in truth, that was as glamorous as her wardrobe got. Perhaps he would prefer it if she did have a nipped-in waist and big full skirts? The thought was a depressing one and she was pleased to bump into Sidney who hailed her cheerily and distracted her for a few minutes with his banter.

“Want me to go down there and clear ‘em off the stage for you, Miss Dora?” he enquired genially, poking his thumb over his shoulder.

“No, no nothing of the sort,” Theo hastened to assure him. “I am more than happy to wait my turn.” Really, the last thing she wanted to do was put everyone’s backs up. Already, she fancied she had been the recipient of a few wary looks.

Sidney happily introduced her to Reginald Stimson, one half of the comedy double act Stimson and Holland. When Dora had briefly spied him before, he had seemed the very picture of rotund amiability. Today, however, he seemed tetchy and irritable. “What?” he squinted bad-naturedly.

“This is the guvnor’s wife, Mrs. Dabney,” Sidney repeated loudly.

“Is she?” Stimson looked her over critically. “I’ll take your word for it though thousands wouldn’t.”

“Don’t mind ‘im,” Sidney sniffed as the comedian bowled away. “Comic,” he said, leaning in closer. “They’re always a bit peculiar. Nuffink like wot they appear’s on the stage.”

Theo agreed that stage personas were often vastly different to those performers possessed in their private lives. After watching a dance troupe practicing their formation for three-quarters of an hour, she finally got her turn to measure up the stage and jot the figures down in her notebook.

“Right,” she said brightly, sitting up on her knees and turning to Sidney who had elected to lean on his broom and watch her. “That gives me exactly the information I need to set about obtaining my props.”

“Props, did yer say?” Sidney moved his cap back and scratched his head. “They got rooms full of the stuff out back. When someone’s finished wiv somefink, they just chucks it in there. Needs a good going over and an inventory done really, but well, who ‘as the time?”

“How do I procure the key to these prop rooms?” Theo asked eagerly, scrambling to her feet.

“Storerooms,” Sidney corrected her. “Jim’s got ‘em. Though getting anyfink out of him’s like drawing blood from a bleedin’ stone!”

“Jim,” Theo said brightening. “Oh, I’m sure he’ll oblige me. Tell me, where can I find him?”

“Well, usually he’s doggin’ your ‘usband’s every step,” Sidney said. “While ‘e barks out orders so to speak.”

“So, I’ll likely find him if I head back in the direction of Clem’s office,” Dora decided and took off like a hare.

She duly found Jim, who escorted her with a bunch of keys to the storage rooms where she spent an interesting couple of hours sifting through the various pre-used stage props. By the end of it, she had picked out a flimsy table and a pair of decorative screens with the hinges hanging off. Both were light enough for her and Lil to carry on stage before their performance and Theo felt well pleased with her discoveries.