no need to call me Mr. Cunningham. I believe you remember my name?”
His smile had the same effect on her as it had five years ago. Lord, but she felt like a thirteen-year-old girl again. A tight-chested, thick-throated, flushed, jumbled, voiceless thirteen-year-old girl.
“Dalton,” she finally managed.
“Ah,” he said as he rocked back on his heels with a smile. “You do remember it. What a chance meeting this is. I was just telling my mother we’ve procured a table for luncheon. Would you care to join us? I’m afraid we missed you at the Opera House last night.”
“The Opera House?”
“Yes,” Juliet answered. “Your sister told us you perform there three nights a week. We went last night and saw Sarah, but no you.”
A spindly, hot stone sank slowly down Marlena’s chest and settled in her belly. She’d told that lie to her sister in a letter six months ago. Jess seemed to sense Marlena’s unease and unhappiness, even three thousand miles away. So, Marlena had fabricated a story to ease her sister’s concerns. It had taken her a full week to write the lie and another to actually send it, and now standing before her was her guilt, personified.
“Oh, well, I’m on hiatus as I prepare some new material,” she lied. “I’ll be back on the stage the first of the month.”
“Perfect!” Juliet exclaimed. “We depart on the second. We shall be able to see you.”
“And hear this talent everyone goes on about,” Dalton added.
“Although be forewarned,” Juliet said. “Dalton doesn’t have an ear for opera. He prefers a much more contemporary sound.”
He turned his grin on her. “I am certainly open to conversion, though, if you can manage it.”
Marlena’s laugh was so nervous it sounded foreign to her ears, but all mirth faded from her as she caught a fleeting glimpse of Elijah Winthrop strolling down the street. It wasn’t difficult to suss his approach, for he parted crowds like Moses did the Red Sea. And he was headed straight for them.
“Uh…” her eyes darted frantically to Juliet. “Lunch, did you say? I’m famished. Can we hurry?”
Dalton turned sideways and motioned for the ladies to lead the way. Marlena had no idea where they were going, so she followed Juliet, glancing once over her shoulder to see Elijah still stomping their way and gaining ground. She leaned toward Juliet. “How much farther is it?”
“Just here, dear,” Juliet motioned to a restaurant on the right and Marlena pushed her through the door. She turned in time to see Elijah storm past without a glance in their direction. She heaved a relieved sigh only to look up and find the curious faces of Dalton and Juliet peering down at her. She giggled nervously and cleared her throat.
“Shall we eat?”
“Yes,” Dalton said. “We have a table near the window.”
“No!” Marlena called, surprised by the volume of her protestation, but she knew this area of the city, knew the people who swarmed it and how unforgiving and judgmental they were, and she wouldn’t place Juliet in a position to be shamed and ridiculed. She couldn’t take it. “Can we sit in the back, please?”
Dalton’s face fell into a glower so intense she nearly stumbled back from it. “Away from curious onlookers? Anyone who might judge the company you keep?”
“Dalton,” Juliet hissed in a warning tone.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, Little Miss. You seem eager to avoid being seen by anyone.” His gaze bore down on her. It made her sad that he leapt to such a conclusion about her. And angry. She snorted and shrugged.
“You mean apart from the multitude of other people who saw us while we conversed in broad daylight on the street for the past ten minutes?” He chewed the inside of his cheek and she raised an eyebrow in challenge. “Of course you’re mistaken, Dalton. I’ve been the subject of ridicule in this neighborhood for five years and I won’t expose your mother to that if I can help it. And while I’m on
His smile had the same effect on her as it had five years ago. Lord, but she felt like a thirteen-year-old girl again. A tight-chested, thick-throated, flushed, jumbled, voiceless thirteen-year-old girl.
“Dalton,” she finally managed.
“Ah,” he said as he rocked back on his heels with a smile. “You do remember it. What a chance meeting this is. I was just telling my mother we’ve procured a table for luncheon. Would you care to join us? I’m afraid we missed you at the Opera House last night.”
“The Opera House?”
“Yes,” Juliet answered. “Your sister told us you perform there three nights a week. We went last night and saw Sarah, but no you.”
A spindly, hot stone sank slowly down Marlena’s chest and settled in her belly. She’d told that lie to her sister in a letter six months ago. Jess seemed to sense Marlena’s unease and unhappiness, even three thousand miles away. So, Marlena had fabricated a story to ease her sister’s concerns. It had taken her a full week to write the lie and another to actually send it, and now standing before her was her guilt, personified.
“Oh, well, I’m on hiatus as I prepare some new material,” she lied. “I’ll be back on the stage the first of the month.”
“Perfect!” Juliet exclaimed. “We depart on the second. We shall be able to see you.”
“And hear this talent everyone goes on about,” Dalton added.
“Although be forewarned,” Juliet said. “Dalton doesn’t have an ear for opera. He prefers a much more contemporary sound.”
He turned his grin on her. “I am certainly open to conversion, though, if you can manage it.”
Marlena’s laugh was so nervous it sounded foreign to her ears, but all mirth faded from her as she caught a fleeting glimpse of Elijah Winthrop strolling down the street. It wasn’t difficult to suss his approach, for he parted crowds like Moses did the Red Sea. And he was headed straight for them.
“Uh…” her eyes darted frantically to Juliet. “Lunch, did you say? I’m famished. Can we hurry?”
Dalton turned sideways and motioned for the ladies to lead the way. Marlena had no idea where they were going, so she followed Juliet, glancing once over her shoulder to see Elijah still stomping their way and gaining ground. She leaned toward Juliet. “How much farther is it?”
“Just here, dear,” Juliet motioned to a restaurant on the right and Marlena pushed her through the door. She turned in time to see Elijah storm past without a glance in their direction. She heaved a relieved sigh only to look up and find the curious faces of Dalton and Juliet peering down at her. She giggled nervously and cleared her throat.
“Shall we eat?”
“Yes,” Dalton said. “We have a table near the window.”
“No!” Marlena called, surprised by the volume of her protestation, but she knew this area of the city, knew the people who swarmed it and how unforgiving and judgmental they were, and she wouldn’t place Juliet in a position to be shamed and ridiculed. She couldn’t take it. “Can we sit in the back, please?”
Dalton’s face fell into a glower so intense she nearly stumbled back from it. “Away from curious onlookers? Anyone who might judge the company you keep?”
“Dalton,” Juliet hissed in a warning tone.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, Little Miss. You seem eager to avoid being seen by anyone.” His gaze bore down on her. It made her sad that he leapt to such a conclusion about her. And angry. She snorted and shrugged.
“You mean apart from the multitude of other people who saw us while we conversed in broad daylight on the street for the past ten minutes?” He chewed the inside of his cheek and she raised an eyebrow in challenge. “Of course you’re mistaken, Dalton. I’ve been the subject of ridicule in this neighborhood for five years and I won’t expose your mother to that if I can help it. And while I’m on
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