As she’d learned from how Blake had treated Janet, the Ralston brothers weren’t the marrying kind. No, they would have to be dragged to the altar, her problem being that she had no idea how to accomplish it.
Ooh, how she wished her father were still alive! If he’d been present, she’d already be a bride, and she wouldn’t be standing on a busy street and worrying about the future. Her father would have settled it for her.
The entire mess had left her too exasperated to think straight, and she simply wanted to connect with Libby once more. For a few delicious minutes, she wanted to focus on someone other than herself and her myriad of difficulties.
She rattled the theater door, but it was the middle of the afternoon and there was no matinee scheduled, so it was locked. She knocked, her ear pressed to the wood to hear footsteps inside, but the place appeared to be deserted.
She dawdled, debating her next move when a man walked up. He was neatly dressed in a brown suit and wearing a bowler hat and spectacles, so he might have been a lawyer or a banker.
“Did you knock?” he asked her. “Is anyone here?”
“They don’t seem to be.”
“They usually arrive later in the day, but occasionally, there are people in this early. We could walk to the alley. The rear entrance is nearly always unlocked.”
She pondered, then sighed. “I shouldn’t bother anybody. I was looking for one of the actresses, but I’m not sure she’s even performing. Her name isn’t on the playbill.”
“Who is the actress? I’m cordial with many of them.”
“It’s Libby Carstairs. The Mystery Girl of the Caribbean? She’s so famous though. I likely wouldn’t have been allowed to speak with her.”
“Miss Carstairs is very approachable, and she loves to chat with her admirers. She’d have been thrilled to meet you.”
“I’m not an admirer. I’m an old friend. A very old friend. I haven’t seen her since we were little.”
“Were you in a traveling troupe with her as she toured the country?”
“It was nothing like that. I was. . . was. . .”
She considered admitting her identity, but in the end, she didn’t mention it. No one ever believed she was a Mystery Girl too.
“Never mind,” Caroline murmured. “It doesn’t matter now.”
“She’s not here anyway.”
“Where did she go?”
“She’s in the country. With Lord Barrett? They’re about to have a quick wedding. It’s the rumor that’s circulating.”
Caroline scowled. “Libby is marrying?”
“Yes, it’s why I stopped by—to pry out some comments from some of her fellow actors. Since it’s been revealed that she’s Little Henrietta, the whole kingdom is enthralled by her all over again.”
Caroline smiled, thinking Libby’s marrying was the prettiest news in ages, but it made her sad too. Why had they been yanked apart? Why couldn’t their families have permitted them to stay in touch over the years? What could it have hurt?
That sort of rumination was pointless though. It merely left her angry over all that had been lost, and she never gained any ground in stabilizing the floundering ship that was her problematic life.
He pulled a card from his coat and presented it to her with a flourish. “I write for the London Times.”
“You’re a newspaper reporter? My, my, that must be a very fun job.”
“I’m the one who figured out that Miss Carstairs is Henrietta. I penned all the important articles.”
“This must be a very exciting period for you.”
“It’s been very exciting.” He grinned. “I earned myself a hefty raise too.”
She chuckled. “Good for you.”
He bowed to her. “Howard Periwinkle.”
“Caroline Grey.”
“I’m delighted to. . .” His sentence trailed off, and he studied her strangely. “You are Caroline Grey? Little Caro?”
“Ah. . . yes?”
“I’ve been searching for you!”
“Whatever for?”
“It’s the twentieth anniversary of the shipwreck.”
“Yes, it is. I’ve been reflecting on it quite a lot.”
“So have I. So have our readers. Especially with Miss Carstairs being Henrietta. I’ve been hoping to schedule a reunion for the three of you.”
“That’s a marvelous idea. I’d like it very much.”
“I’ve already talked to Joanna James, and she’s agreed.”
“You’ve talked to Joanna?” Caroline was surprised she didn’t faint.
“We have to get Miss Carstairs to agree too. I would arrange it, and you’d simply have to show up.”
“Libby is probably busy, what with her wedding and all. She might not like us to bother her.”
“Miss Carstairs had a hard life, Miss Grey. I’m betting she’d be incredibly pleased to see you again—despite how busy she is. She’d receive great comfort from spending time with you and Joanna.”
Tears surged into Caroline’s eyes, and Mr. Periwinkle appeared stricken. He kindly patted her hand.
“Don’t be sad about it, Miss Grey.”
“I’m not sad. I’m happy and relieved! When we arrived in England, we were so young and so closely bonded. Then we were separated, and we weren’t allowed to say goodbye to each other. I’ve had no information about either of them.”
“Well, I have plenty—about their lives and what they’ve been doing. Would you like to hear some of it?”
“I would love to hear every detail you can possibly share.”
“And if you’re amenable, I have a plan for you and Miss Carstairs.”
“What plan?”
“Let’s find a restaurant and have a cup of tea. I’ll tell you what it is.”
“Would you sit down? You’re nervous as a cat in a thunderstorm.”
Luke Watson, Lord Barrett, glared as his soon-to-be bride, Libby Carstairs. She glared back and said, “I can’t relax. I’m too anxious. I feel as if something is about to happen.”
“Will it be bad or good?”
“I can’t decide.”
“Well, something is about to happen.”
“What?”
“We’re marrying next week.”
“Oh, that.”
She pronounced that as if their getting married was of no consequence.
He was an earl, a retired navy commander, a hero of the Crown, a rich aristocrat, and a handsome rogue. Any female in the kingdom would have cut off her right
