Nothing, Polly thought. Being with Sir Godfrey again and acting with the troupe would be heaven. But it was too dangerous. Even having him here …
“I can’t,” she said. “ENSA—”
“Can easily spare you for four weeks. I’ll gladly arrange for someone to take your place. I know a number of actresses who would jump at the chance to show their knickers to an enthusiastic audience,” he said. “Or to anyone, for that matter.”
And he would clearly be able to persuade Mr. Tabbitt to go along with the plan. The fact that he’d allowed Sir Godfrey backstage proved that.
“If you refuse, there will be no one there to avert the inevitable disaster I foresee,” he said. “Say yes. You would be saving my life.”
No, Polly thought bitterly. I would be sealing your doom. And I have no intention of letting you be part of the correction if I can help it.
“I’m sorry, Sir Godfrey. I can’t.”
“The head of ENSA’s an old friend of mine. We acted in Henry the Fifth together. I’m certain he’d be willing to release you from your National Service duty for the duration of the rehearsals and performances.”
Polly looked at him in despair. He did not intend to take no for an answer. He would come back tomorrow and the next night. He would send Mrs. Wyvern to convince her. Or worse, Miss Laburnum—or Trot—exposing them all to danger. And I can’t bear that, to see any of them made to pay the price for my sins.
Especially not you. I couldn’t have survived without you.
And knew what she had to do. There was only one sure way to send him away for good, to make certain he wouldn’t come back. “It’s not my being in the show,”
she said. “It’s … I didn’t want to tell you this, because I was afraid you might … but I’ve met a young man. We’ve been seeing a good deal of each other, and—”
“A young man,” he said slowly. “Exactly how young?”
“Much younger than—” She stopped and bit her lip as if she had only just realized how cruel that sounded, and then rushed on. “I only met him a few weeks ago, here, and his regiment’s due to be shipped out any week now, so we haven’t much time left.”
And that at least was true. There was almost no time left at all. “You do understand, don’t you? You’ve been in love, haven’t you?”
“Yes,” he said quietly. “I have.”
He sat there for a long minute, looking at her, his face unreadable. I did it, she thought. I’ve succeeded in sending him away for good.
And in hurting him cruelly. I am so sorry. Sir Godfrey, but it’s for your own good.
“I am sorry,” she said carelessly. “I’m afraid I’ve got to go on in a moment.” She bent down and began fastening the gilt strap on her shoe. “I’ve got a costume change.”
“Of course,” he said. “I understand. You mustn’t miss your entrance.” He watched her struggle with the stiff strap for a moment, then stood up and, with great care, took his coat down from the screen and turned to go.
I’ll never see you again, she thought, keeping her eyes firmly on her shoe.
“Goodbye,” she said without looking up.
He moved the chair aside, put his hand to the doorknob, stood there a moment, and then turned back to face her. “Have I ever told you what a wretched actress you are, Viola?”
Her heart began to pound. “I thought you said I was born to be on the stage,” she said, her chin in the air.
“And so I did,” he said, “but not because you could act. Your acting wouldn’t convince Trot. Or Nelson.”
“Well, then it’s a good thing I turned down your offer, isn’t it?” she said angrily. “Luckily, ENSA audiences aren’t quite so critical.” She reached past him for her railway-station costume. “Now, if you’ll forgive me—”
“There is nothing to forgive,” he said, “except perhaps that unnecessarily unkind reference to my age. But then again, you were attempting to send me away—”
And I didn’t succeed, Polly thought despairingly.
“—so you may be excused for employing extreme measures. You are meant for the stage,” he said, “but not for your ability to dissemble. Quite the opposite. It is because everything you feel is there in your face—your thoughts, your hopes—” He looked hard at her. “Your fears. It’s a rare gift—Ellen Terry had it, and, on rare occasions, Sarah Bernhardt—though it is not an unmixed blessing. It makes it quite impossible to lie, as you have so obviously been attempting to do to me for the last quarter of an hour. It is equally obvious you are in some sort of trouble—”
“That’s ridiculous,” she said. “I told you, I’ve met a young man. We’re in love—”
He shook his head. “Whatever your reason for turning down my offer, it is not some green and callow youth you met outside a stage door. It is also clear this trouble is something you think you must face alone, else why would you hide yourself away from your friends?”
He cocked his head inquisitively at her. “Perhaps you are right to do so. Illyria is a dangerous place. But silence is not always the best defense.” He looked at her steadily. “Are you quite certain I can’t help?”
No one can help, Polly thought. And I’m putting you in danger just by standing here talking to you. Please go away. If you love me, please …
“Two minutes,” Reggie said, sticking his head in the door, and she had never been so glad to see anyone in her life.
“Coming,” she called. “It was ever so nice to have seen you, Sir Godfrey, but as you can see, I have a show to
