Acker tipped back the glass and drained thecontents. Even if Juliette did live in the area, how as he to findher again? London was far too large to search for a single femaleand he had no idea where else she might be.
Still, she was in London, which was moreinformation he had a day ago. If anything, he would simply visitthe theatres and find out if she or her sister had been hired.Surely that shouldn’t take long and then he would have herdirection.
Juliette jerked awake. She stared into thedarkness, listening for what had disturbed her slumber. The hackingcoughs of her mother came from the next room. She rose from bed andwhen she pushed her mother’s door open Juliette found the womanreclining in bed, a glass of water in hand. A lamp was lit low onthe small table, casting shadows on her mother’s pale and drawnface. “Can I get you something, Maman?”
She shook her head just as another coughingfit hit. Juliette came forward and settled on the side of the bed.“I wish you would see a doctor.”
Her mother smiled weakly. “We cannot affordit, nor is there anything he could do.”
“We don’t know that,” Juliette insisted.
“I do. Besides, I am getting better, I assureyou.” Mother reached forward and squeezed her hand. “Go back tobed. I will be fine.”
Juliette wasn’t so certain. Night after nightshe was awakened by her mother’s coughing. They needed to get hermedicine. “I’ll make you some tea. That will help settle your coughand perhaps you will find sleep.”
Mother nodded and then let her head fallback, closing her eyes.
Juliette silently left the room and made herway to the kitchen where she stirred the fire and put a kettle onto boil.
“She doesn’t seem to be getting better.”
Juliette looked up to find Hélène standing inthe doorway. Dark circles framed her light blue eyes. Hélène wastoo young to look beaten down and one of the reasons Juliette hadnot told her sisters about the bloodstained handkerchiefs. They allhad enough to worry about already. “Did you not sleep?”
Hélène sighed and moved further into theroom, a basket in her hand which she placed in the center of thetable.
“What is that?”
“I’ve been up all night stitching.” Hélèneopened the basket and removed a stack of handkerchiefs. “MadameDupree said that if I could prove my skill with a needle she mighthave a position for me.”
Juliette picked up the delicate linen andfingered the tiny stitches before she turned it over. Hélène’s workwas as neat on the back as it was on the front. Juliette didn’thave the patience to sit for long periods of time bent over with aneedle and thread. Even if she tried, Juliette would never matchher sister’s skill. Hélène could make anything from Shakespeariancostumes to the most delicate ball gown for Society. “Isn’t MadameDupree a modiste? Why does she need embroidery? Wouldn’t your smallstitches be enough?”
Hélène pulled out a chair and sank into it.“The girl who does the more intricate work and embroidery isincreasing. Madame needs someone to fill the position for a fewmonths.”
Even if the job was not permanent, and ifHélène were able to gain the position, they would have two incomescoming into the family. “I am sure she will hire you the moment shesees your work.”
Hélène smiled weakly before bringing her handto her face to cover a yawn.
“Why don’t you get some sleep,” Juliettesuggested. “I will wake you before I leave.”
Her sister straightened. “Should we both begone at the same time? What if Mother needs something?”
Juliette bit her bottom lip. “I am sure mamanwill be fine for a few hours.” She turned to the stove and liftedthe kettle of boiling water and set it on the wooden table. “I needto check with other theatres. I need to find a position that willallow me to be home during the day and you can’t miss thisopportunity.”
“I have no doubt that you will,” Hélèneassured her and stood. “Please wake me in two hours. I want to beat the dress shop before it opens.”
Juliette promised and began making a cup oftea for her mother as Hélène shuffled out of the room. “Please letus both find a position,” she whispered to the empty room.
Acker stood at the edge of the streetglancing one way and then the next. Why had he sent his carriagehome last evening? It could have been kept in the stews behind therow of houses. Should he hail at hackney or walk? It was a fine dayand the sun was already burning away the early morning fog. A walkwould do him good. If he tired, he could always get a hackney ifnecessary.
Voices and vendors calling grew louder as heneared the Piazza. The coffee houses were busy and the square wasalready filling with servants to purchase produce and floralarrangements for the grander homes. Acker couldn’t remember thelast time he had awakened this early. Was it always this activeduring this time of the day?
He was cutting through the crowd whensunlight glinted off the loveliest shade of red hair.
Juliette?
Acker altered his direction and followed theyoung woman. He had yet to see her face but only one other personhad the same color of red. She moved from one vendor to another,picking up different flowers for what Acker assumed would be anarrangement for her home.
Had Juliette been hired to dance? He dearlyhoped so and looked forward to seeing her on stage once again.
The woman paused before buckets of tulips.Acker rushed forward before she moved away again. “MissMirabelle?”
Her head came up and the young lady turned tolook at him. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise.
“Genviève?”
“Lord Acker?”
“Might you know where I can findJuliette?”
Juliette’s sister frowned and pursed her lipsfor a moment. “She is visiting the theater this morning.”
Genviève never did care for him, Ackerreminded himself. “They did not hire her at the King’sTheater?”
The young woman narrowed her eyes in distrustand tilted her head. “How would you know she visited there?”
“I spoke with her yesterday, outside of DruryLane,” Acker hastened to explain. “I directed her to the King’sTheatre because I
