XI. The Actor

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Byron spent the night wondering why he allowed himself be invited in this party.

Ellie said that tomorrow would be spent playing games, yet he could not see the guests dressing down their pretty clothes to get dirty.

All he could imagine were more drinking, gossiping and perhaps a few more trysts with their lovers as he earlier learned. In fact, most of these people were married and having affairs as he was told.

They were not much different from where he came from.

One difference was that they are ignorant of the living world they were standing on.

With a sigh, he forced himself to sleep.

He would have to find a way to make Ellie McPhee give this place up.

-Above and Below

*****

Emma Everard must be playing him.

Frustration was not the perfect term to how he felt as two days came by and she had not yet appeared in Ulric. Paranoia soon followed as he began to recount everything he had done.

Had she caught up on him this soon?

Perhaps Lawrence was correct. He ought not to have exposed himself as the gossip writer to the woman. It merely increased her curiosity which led her to discover P. Wallace.

Pacing in his study, he fought with himself.

No, surely she would be stuck. P. Wallace was not a suspicious character. She would not find the Trilby connection.

She could be simply uninterested, a part of him suggested. Now that she knew the man behind Above and Below, her curiosity was satisfied. She could have moved on by now, having tea with her family.

But the look of excitement in her eyes was still very much clear in Wynne's mind. She was itching to be in Ulric and see the rehearsal. She loved the secrecy.

Sighing with frustration, Wynne rubbed his hands over his face and raked his fingers through his dark hair, brushing it over his forehead.

"Stop it, Lawrence."

"I am not doing a thing but breathe, my lord," said the butler with brows cocked high, looking offended and innocent.

Lawrence was indeed but a silent presence in one corner of the room, but despite that, Wynne felt irritated. He knew the man too well. The butler was singing in his head, "I did tell you so!"

"She could simply be trapped in that manor," offered the butler.

"She is not one who would let herself be trapped intentionally, Lawrence."

"Hmm..."

Wynne snapped his head at Lawrence. "What does that mean?"

Lawrence shrugged. "You know her too well now, my lord?"

"She is the subject of my aunt's current obsession. Of course, it is my task to know her well."

Lawrence nodded. "Whatever you say, my lord."

"Whatever does that mean?"

Again, the man shrugged. "Perhaps you are taking a fancy on the woman, my lord. And—" he added, lifting one finger to stop Wynne's outburst, "might I remind you that it is not to happen? You and she cannot be. Not in this lifetime. Never, my lord."

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