be teaching what she did know more than plenty about-acting.
Riley bounded to her feet. "Beatrice, you are a genius." She towed her up from the sofa and strode into the middle of the room.
"She might be a genius, but she can't go out in these clothes," Louisa complained, holding out her own
black skirt. "We look like ravens!"
"Leave the clothes to me," Riley said, something Mason had said last night, giving root to another idea.
Louisa muttered something back, what Riley didn't hear, but obviously Beatrice had, for she slugged her
sister in the arm.
"Ouch," Louisa complained, rubbing her arm. "What was that for?"
"Oh, hold your tongue," Beatrice told her.
Without, Riley noted, the addition of any colorful phrases.
"I think it is time we tried a different direction with our lessons." With the rapt attention of all eyes on her, Riley announced, "I think it is time I shared with you my Eastern secrets."
Riley, Cousin Felicity, and the St. Clair sisters spent the rest of the afternoon plotting their new roles-
ones that would take the ton by storm.
As it neared half past four, Cousin Felicity went downstairs to see to their tea, while Riley and the girls finished up their "lessons."
"Don't worry about your uncle or your costumes," Riley told them. "Leave that all up to me."
As the clock struck the appointed hour, they went downstairs. At the bottom of the steps, Beatrice drew to a stop. Riley knew why. A conversation from the parlor rose through the usually quiet house.
"My dearest Felicity," an all too familiar voice said, charm rolling off every word. "I spent the day in
anxious anticipation of returning to the shadow of your lovely countenance. It is a blessing to find you in
such fine spirits."
Aggie! She should have known the old scalawag wouldn't stay away. Not when he suspected there was ready money at hand.
"Mr. Pettibone is back," Beatrice said, hurrying toward the room.
"I wonder if he won any more money at piquet," Maggie said. "I would love lemon tarts for tea."
He had better not have spent the afternoon playing cards, Riley thought.
"Agamemnon," Cousin Felicity said through a tittering veil of giggles. "You make me feel like a schoolgirl
again."
"A time not that long ago, one would think to gaze upon your flawless face," he replied.
Riley set her jaw. She wondered what Cousin Felicity would think of her flattering suitor when she heard
him uttering the exact same line in the play they were currently practicing.
Resolved to put an end to this fruitless flirtation once and for all, she followed the girls into the parlor,
where Aggie was ensconced on the settee like a prince, with Cousin Felicity practically in his lap. He had her hand to his lips and was cooing another line from The Envious Moon about her eyes and the stars.
Riley made a note to herself to cut that scene from Act Three immediately. She'd never be able to listen
to it again without having this nightmare image of Aggie and Cousin Felicity in her mind.
"Aggie!" Riley said. "What are you doing here?"
"I came for tea, dear girl," he told her. "Don't you remember? Your kind hostess invited me."
She took a deep breath. "And I recall uninviting you."
Aggie turned to Cousin Felicity. "You must forgive my dear ward. As a foundling, she missed the gentle
ministrations of a mother, and I have been all she's had to guide her in the ways of society."
Maggie's eyes grew wide. "Riley, you were a foundling?"Riley flinched."Who was a foundling?" Mason asked from behind her.Riley didn't dare turn around. His words caressed her skin as if he were touching her again. How tragic had she become when even the sound of his voice made her blush?
"Riley was," Louisa told him. The girl caught her hand and tugged her down onto the sofa next to her.
"Where did they find you? Do you have any idea who your parents are? You could be royalty and not even know it." The wide-eyed girl sat back, staring at Riley with new respect.
"Louisa," Mason said. "That is quite enough. As far as anyone is concerned, Riley is a distant relation
who lost her parents at a young age."
"Actually, Louisa isn't too far from the truth," Aggie told them, oblivious to her embarrassment. "ForRiley is the daughter of-""Aggie!" Riley jumped to her feet. "That is quite enough." Even as she made this outburst, Riley realized she'd only made the situation worse.
Now every face in the room held a curious gaze focused directly at her. They all wanted Aggie'srevelation finished.And it was the last thing she wanted.Lord Ashlin turned and stared at her. But if she expected disappointment or condemnation, it didn't show on his face. Instead, he smiled in encouragement. "If only we could all escape the sins of the father.""Exactly!" Aggie said. "I've told her time and again, she is not to blame for her mother selling her.""She sold you?" Maggie's lip trembled. "Oh, Riley, how sad."Cousin Felicity obviously agreed for she was already swiping at tears. "The story sounds like one of your plays," she said between sniffs. "The lost heiress found by a prince and brought home in triumph."
Aggie snapped his fingers. "I have told her the same thing time and again," he said. "She tries to deny it, but every play she writes tells her tragic story."
"You write your plays?" This question came from Beatrice.
"Yes," Riley told her, happy for the change of subject. "I write a new one for the spring and fall seasons."
"Oh, Riley," Louisa said. "What if your mother saw your play and realized the error of her ways? I can
see it now-she'd come backstage, her eyes filled with tears, pleading with you to forgive her for making
such a terrible mistake."
As much as she denied it to Aggie and anyone else who pointed out the common theme to her plays, she had secretly hoped that one day the woman who'd given her life would see the error of her ways and return to apologize and make amends for all the pain and lost years.
It was the last fantasy of her childhood-a lonely time spent in poverty and doubt...and dreams. Mason pulled at his chin. "Do you know who your parents are?"
Riley shook her head. "All I know is that my mother was an English lady, but her family name, I never knew. To me, she was just 'mama.'"
The memories of that fleeting time came rushing forward.
Mama practicing her lines for the theatre. Playing with the laces and rich fabrics of her costumes. Flowers from admirers filling their small apartment with their rich scents.
They were happy times, blissful images, yet they were ever tarnished by her final memory of her mother.
Of the beautiful lady bidding her good-bye one frosty fall morning, before she boarded a carriage and left Riley behind...forever.
"You don't know anything else?" he asked. "Nothing about where she came from or a name that could
give a clue as to her identity."Riley looked away. "No. I was only five when she left."Mason got up. "That's something. Your age. What year were you born?""What has that got to do with anything?" Riley asked."Well, to find her. To find your family. Aren't you the least bit curious?""No!" she lied. "Why would I care about them? They obviously didn't want me.""Tell him," Aggie urged her. "You've spent the last seven years doing everything but placing an advertisement in the Times trying to find her. Let him help you."
"No," she repeated. What did it matter if they found out she was the illegitimate daughter of the King
himself-the fact remained she'd been born on the wrong side of the blanket and would never be...goodenough to be considered a suitable bride."But what if-" Beatrice started to say."Leave off," Mason told her. "If Riley doesn't want to find her family, that is her choice, and we must respect her privacy."
"But-" Louisa added, until her uncle turned a swift glance in her direction. Louisa closed her open mouth and sighed.
The room filled with an uneasy silence.
There, her sad story had put everyone in a downcast mood, Riley thought. And it had all started with
Aggie and his indiscriminate tongue.
The unrepentant devil didn't seem to notice. "Didn't you say something about having tea?" he asked Cousin Felicity.