Recalling the advice Mrs. Rutley had given her, Louisa gave a polite smile and followed the others up the stairs at the side of the stage—stage left, if she recalled correctly. Mr. Barker led them to center stage,oohsandaahserupting behind him.
Mr. Barker turned to face the students. “I’ll welcome any questions you may have.”
The stage fell eerily quiet.
Mrs. Rutley addressed the girls. “Mr. Barker has a vast knowledge of this theater. Don’t be afraid to ask anything you’d like.”
Mr. Barker’s cheeks could have lit the candles at the front of the stage. “Thank you, Mrs. Rutley. Now, who would like to ask the first question?”
Frances Cunningham, a new student with two brown curls hanging down either side of her face and wearing a nervous smile, lifted a finger. “I have a question, sir,” she said in a voice so quiet that Louisa had to strain to hear her. “Where do you find the performers for your plays?”
Mr. Barker clasped his hands behind him in a self-important manner. “A most excellent question. Some journey from across the country for a chance to perform here. But we do allow those who live here locally to audition, as well.”
Other girls raised their hands, and soon, all were asking questions. A humorous thought entered Louisa’s mind. As she had heard every question and answer imaginable over the past four years, she turned to speak to Ruth but found the girl gone. She had moved to whisper to the twins.
“What is today’s presentation, Mr. Barker?” Amy asked.
Mr. Barker’s heavy sigh made Louisa frown. Why did he suddenly appear sad?
“Our spring play, entitled The Summer of Destiny, tells the story of the founders of Chatsworth. It will be our next—and possibly final—performance here at the Chatsworth Theater.”
Gasps filled the stage, and even Mrs. Rutley appeared taken aback.
“We received a generous donation recently from a Mr. Stonebrook—I believe one of your students is acquainted with him, Mrs. Rutley.” He shook his head. “Sadly, the funds were enough to allow this year’s production to be produced and not much more.”
Louisa recalled a Mr. Peter Stonebrook, a vile man who had attempted to woo Diana, using an act of charity as a means to win her over. In truth, he cared nothing for charity, the theater least of all. Thankfully, she had fallen in love with Lord Barrington, a much better-suited gentleman for her friend.
“Is there nothing that can be done to save it?” Mrs. Rutley asked.
The proprietor sighed again. “I’m afraid not. We have used whatever funds were left from that donation to repair the roof. As you can see, the chairs need to be replaced, and there are tears in some of the curtains. What’s worse is we no longer fill the seats as we once did. Even during our summer production, few come.”
Louisa shook her head. How could this happen? She had seen every production offered. Sometimes more than once if it was done well. But even she had to admit the number of attendees had shrunk significantly over the past year.
“Once this play has run its course, I’ve considered selling the theater to a man who wishes to turn it into a gentlemen’s club. He’s assured me that the integrity of the theater itself will remain, but he will have to make some significant changes to the interior.”
Louisa pitied this man. Whether a king had ever visited the theater was of no consequence, but it was clear the imminent loss pained Mr. Barker terribly.
As badly as she felt for Mr. Barker, however, her ire grew much quicker. There was no integrity in owning a gentlemen’s club. After all, not only did such an establishment disregard women, it also left those of the lower classes with no place to find any form of entertainment. Unless this man planned to allow in the working class, which was highly unlikely.
“Ah, and speaking of the gentleman,” Mr. Barker said, his jolliness returning. “Here he is now. If you’ll excuse me a moment, I believe he wishes to speak with me.”
Louisa turned, and her jaw fell open in disbelief. Sauntering down the aisle was the most arrogant, detestable man she had ever met in her life. To make matters worse, he was devilishly handsome with his blond hair and piercing blue eyes. Granted, she could not see his eyes from this distance, but she remembered them from their encounter at the tobacconist’s shop. Remembered them quite well, indeed.
Hurrying to her friends, she whispered, “There he is! The knight who was rude to me. Do you remember me telling you about him?”
Six weeks prior, after hearing from the tailor that a gallant knight had moved to the area, Louisa and Jenny had gone into the shop for a glimpse of a renowned hero. Oh, fine! The idea was Louisa’s. Jenny had vehemently protested against going in search of the man.
Either way, Louisa had found herself instantly smitten with the brave knight. But when she offered to pay him for his bravery with a kiss, he had scolded her. Scolded! As if she were some sort of child!
And now seeing him again, she once again recognized his arrogance. If only she had been thinking clearly during that initial encounter, she would have not been so foolish. And now he believed he could take away the only place anyone—rich or poor, young or old, male or female—could enter if they had the coin to pay? Well as far as she was concerned, he was sorely mistaken on that point.
And she planned to outright tell him so.
* * *
Aaron made his way down the center aisle, took a right, and ascended the staircase. At the edge of the stage, he stopped to wait for Mr. Barker to complete whatever it was he was doing.
A moment later, the proprietor hurried over, a smile breaking his face in half. “Sir Aaron, a most welcome surprise.”