To Tempt the Devil (A Novel of Lord Hawkesbury's Players) by C.J. Archer Page B

Antony was supposed to play a Roman empress that afternoon. She had so much to do before then.
    “I’ll fix it after I finish this,” she said, unstitching the toga from her skirt.
    Antony giggled. “Never mind, I can manage. You keep working on the toga. So, this strangeness of yours doesn’t have anything to do with that mysterious Rafe Fletcher, does it?”
    “No! Of course not. Rafe is simply a neighbor, nothing more.”
    “Not even the brother of the man you’re going to marry?”
    “That too, of course.”
    Dear James. She hadn’t thought much about him since his departure, something she must rectify now everything was returning to normal. What was he doing now? Wherever he was, she hoped he was warm and dry.
    “So if it’s not the devilish Rafe, you must be deliriously happy that Gripp is no longer a threat to us.”
    “He certainly isn’t a threat anymore,” said Roger Style, standing in the curtained exit leading out to the stage. “He’s dead.”
    “What?” came a chorus of voices from the tiring house.
    “Are you sure?” Edward asked.
    “Best bloody news I’ve heard all year,” Freddie said.
    “He can’t be,” Lizzy said. “I just saw him not long ago.”
    Style came slowly inside. His gaze settled on her, cautious and…nervous?
    Cold fingers of ice gripped her heart and squeezed. It beat once then stopped.
    “How did he die?” asked Antony slowly, his gaze sliding back and forth between them.
    “Murdered,” Roger said without taking his eyes off her.
    “It wasn’t me,” she whispered. They all looked at her.
    “The authorities don’t think so. They have a witness who says you did it.”
    “A witness! That’s impossible.”
    “You and that ruffian friend of yours. I hear they’re going to arrest you both.”

CHAPTER 6
    R afe! She had to tell Rafe. Had to warn him.
    Antony gasped. “You’ve got to get away!” He dragged her to her feet but she was already halfway up. “Now! Go!”
    She threw her sewing on the table, scattering pins. Some fell onto the rushes.
    “Leave them,” Henry said when she bent to pick them up. He shoved her toward the back door.
    “My parents!”
    “We’ll take care of them,” Edward said. “Now go!”
    She ran.
    “But who will get the props ready?” Roger wailed behind her. “We have a performance in less than three hours!”
    “We’ll do it,” someone yelled at him.
    She opened the door and barreled straight into Rafe. He held her and for one brief moment she leaned into those big, capable arms and nestled against his solid chest and felt safe. His heart beat ferociously against her cheek. They hadn’t arrested him.
    Thank God .
    “You’re here,” she said between gasps.
    “I wanted to check that my friend…What’s wrong?” he asked, searching her face. “Lizzy, what is it?”
    “Gripp’s dead and they think we did it. They have a witness!”
    He swore and glanced over his shoulder. “Then the constables will be here soon.”
    “We can tell them we’re innocent,” she said, tears stinging her eyes. She blinked them back. Now was not the time for hysterics.
    “They won’t believe us.”
    He was right. With a witness claiming to have seen them, their case was hopeless. It wouldn’t matter if he was lying, there were many other witnesses at the Revels office who had indeed seen them speaking to Gripp that morning. No jury would think them innocent.
    Rafe gripped her hand and pulled her down the steps to the street. She stumbled on the bottom one and he caught her around the waist. “I’m so sorry, Lizzy,” he said, “but we need to be fast.” He closed her hand in his and tugged her after him. “This way.”
    They ran down a thin alley wedged between two crooked buildings. The deep shadows swallowed them as footsteps came closer. Rafe’s big arm flattened Lizzy against the wall and his body hid her from anyone passing. When the footsteps retreated, he took her hand again and ran. At the other end of the alley