the last one.
A burly fisherman suddenly straightened from the depths of the boat, where he had been applying some tar, and on seeing Megan, he touched his hat respectfully. 'Good day to you, miss.'
'Good day.' Megan stepped a little closer. 'Why have you called your boat the
'Oh, no. It was a notion of my late brother's, God rest his soul. He saw the name on a brass memorial up at St. Nicholas's and decided it would be just dandy for the boat he was abuilding.' Of course! The memorial was set into the floor directly in front of Lady Seton's fine marble tomb.
'She was a London actress, I believe,' the fisherman added.
'Actress?' Megan's interest quickened.
'That's right. From the time of Nell Gwynne.' He clambered down from the boat. 'Well, that's me finished for now. I'll bid you good-bye, miss.' Touching his hat again, he walked up the pebbles to the steps.
Megan gazed up at the painted name on the vessel's prow. An actress from the time of Nell Gwynne? Surely that was Rollo's time too? Could Belle Bevington have anything to do with Evangeline's actor ghost?
The puzzle was abruptly forgotten because a large ill-tempered black dog suddenly advanced toward her from behind the vessel. It bared its teeth and growled, as if longing for an excuse to attack. As she gave a frightened scream, the dog was struck by a pebble aimed carefully from the steps. With a yelp of pain it ran off, and Megan whirled gratefully about, expecting to see the fisherman; instead she saw Greville.
'Are you all right?' he asked, coming quickly over to her.
'I-I, er, yes… Thank you.'
He could see that she was shaken, so he made her sit down on an upturned rowing boat to recover. 'Sit quietly for a moment, and you will feel better,' he said gently.
She managed a little humor. 'The dog must share your opinion of ladies' companions, Sir Greville.'
'Which rather puts me on a level with savage, ugly hounds,' he murmured, and placed a foot upon the rowing boat next to her. Then he removed his top hat and swung it idly in his gloved hands. He wore a wine-red coat and cream breeches, the warmer temperature not disposing him to the extra warmth of a greatcoat, and there was a diamond pin in his neck cloth that caught the pale winter light. 'I thought you were accompanying Miss Holcroft this morning?' he said after a moment.
'I did.'
'Past tense? I am amazed that Miss Holcroft should have finished shopping already, for it is her delight to do such things until she has worn out her shoes.'
'Well, I'm sure she would have done that, but…' Megan fiddled with the package containing her mask and comb.
'But?' he prompted.
'But we met Mr. March, and she has gone for a drive with him.'
'I see.' He gazed seaward.
'Sir Greville, I fear she has told me that she expects Mr. March to propose to her soon, and that when he does she will accept.'
'So as yet there are no plans for St. Valentine's Day?'
'I do not see how there can be if he has yet to ask for her hand. Maybe he will not do so,' Megan added without conviction, for Oliver's interest in Chloe was too marked to be anything other than serious.
'I trust you honored your promise at breakfast and did your utmost to dissuade her from all thought of the fellow?'
'I said that I would, and I did.' He didn't reply to this, which she immediately took to be a lack of belief in her word. 'I suppose you think I am not to be trusted?' she said, unable to keep a confrontational note out of her voice.
He straightened. 'I did not say that, Miss Mortimer.'
'No, but you thought it.'
'Don't speculate upon what I am thinking.'
'Why not?'
Annoyance entered his eyes. 'How typical of a woman! I am silent, yet find myself charged with casting aspersions!'
'What else am I to think after you remained so resoundingly silent a moment ago?' Common sense and discretion were winging away into the cloud-laden heavens, but she did not care. Something about this man stung her into behaving in a way she would not normally have dreamed of.
'Madam, I did not say anything because your statement did not seem to require it!' he replied, employing a labored, patronizing tone that goaded her beyond all bounds.
She leapt to her feet, snatched his top hat, and tossed it as far as she could. It landed on its brim on the hard sand, and rolled away like a wheel. Then she stalked off to the steps with as much dignity as she could. She was livid with anger at him, and appalled with herself. There was no doubt in her mind that she had just thrown her new position away with the hat, but it was too late now. She might as well pack to leave! But even as she hurried up to the cliff top, she knew in her heart that her reaction had been due as much to hurt as anything. She wanted to be indifferent to him, but she couldn't; she wanted not to find him attractive, but she couldn't; she wanted… Oh, she didn't
Greville gazed after her in astonishment. Then he glanced toward his top hat, in time to see the black dog tearing it to pieces with its teeth. Then a canine hind leg was raised to deliver a final ignominious insult.
Chapter 21
On reaching Radcliffe House, Megan decided it would be more dignified to hand in her notice than wait to be dismissed, but Evangeline was so flustered and busy with costumes that the moment did not seem right. The deed had still to be done when Greville returned, but to Megan's astonishment he didn't say a word about the scene on the beach. She did not know what to think, except that she didn't really want to leave Evangeline's employ. She knew she would be face-to-face with Greville during the rehearsals planned for that afternoon, so she decided to wait and see what happened then.
In the meantime she had the task of telling Rupert what Chloe had said. He was so crestfallen that Megan could have wept for him, but he had to face the fact that Chloe's regard for Oliver had yet to be shaken, and marriage was very probable. This unhappy interview took place in the drawing room, making it impossible for her to write her letter, so she went to the theater to seek Rollo. Once again there was no sign of the ghost. Having nothing else to do, and there not being sufficient time to walk to the church and look at Belle Bevington's memorial, she went up to her bedroom and read a little more of
All too soon it was time for the rehearsal that had been agreed on the night before, and once again, as if determined to make Rupert's misery even worse, Oliver made his claim upon Chloe very evident indeed. He carried her shawl, hovered constantly at her elbow, found everything she said very witty, and gazed at her with such abject adoration that Rupert declared himself utterly nauseated, which did not go down at all well with Chloe.
Sir Jocelyn attended as well, and Megan soon realized that since the previous night his manner toward her had undergone a subtle change. It wasn't that he was less friendly, just that he seemed conscious of her in a different way. Several times she felt his one good eye upon her, but in a way that made her curious rather than uncomfortable.
Rollo honored the rehearsal with his presence, but Megan had no opportunity to speak to him. He was completely invisible again, and kept his pithy comments to a minimum, from which restraint Megan concluded that the ticking off he had received from Evangeline the night before had been severe enough to curb the sharper edge of his tongue, at least temporarily.
When Oliver first arrived, Evangeline was shocked by the graze on his forehead. 'Good heavens, Mr. March,
