Stray Magic by Patricia Rice

Author:Patricia Rice [Rice, Patricia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Rice Enterprises, Dana Point, CA

Chapter 4

Phin didn’t want to find new accommodations. She longed to sit beside this sympathetic gentleman and hear him find solutions and opportunities instead of slamming doors in her face. She longed for more than that, if she wanted to be exceedingly unrealistic. But she knew in her head that her father was right—she did not belong on the stage. She had no presence. She would make a. . . cawker. . . of herself.

“I am not afraid,” she insisted, although she lied. “I am no actress. I am a dowdy plump bookkeeper who can sing a fine hymn.”

He laughed. “We could hold church services first, drive out the randy cawkers.”

He hugged her. He was always hugging. And it did odd things to her insides as well as her mind. Her breasts—and other parts—tingled, and she wanted more than hugging. This was why living here was improper. She shoved him away. “I am not afraid and I will not stay here to be insulted.”

She was terrified, and she would rather stay and be insulted than face the outside world alone. But a woman alone must put on a brave face and stand up to those who would make her do things she didn’t want to do.

Although, she was making herself do things she didn’t want to do. Her head was a terrible muddle as long as Jack insisted on holding her. And talking to her.

“But we must rehearse, and we need a soprano to rehearse, as well as someone as brilliant as you to help me with the score. I’m not a musician, but you are a natural talent. I bet you play the piano as well, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. I was raised to be a lady, of sorts,” she amended. She should preen that he’d called her brilliant, but she was too aware that her brilliance had little purpose in survival.

“That’s it!” He leaped up and paced up and down the narrow floor space. “I will have my sisters-in-law introduce you to proper drawing rooms as an unmarried lady making her debut. All the debutantes sing like caterwauling toms and pound the keys as if they’d like them to fall off. You will be a sensation. You will lead the singing at my family’s church, so everyone will see how very respectable you are. We will have to move you out of this place, give you a chaperone and a maid—”

“To what purpose?” she asked in exasperation. “My mother was a lady, but the moment she set foot on stage, her reputation was lost. She was the same person in a drawing room as she was on stage, but that is not how society sees it. You are writing fantasy in your head.”

“I do that,” he admitted. “But there’s a difference. Your mother loved the stage. She was a grand actress and refused to give it up. As you have said yourself, you are not.” He continued pacing. “So we only need you to perform scenes in a few ballrooms once or twice, to gain subscriptions for a new theater.

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