Defiant Rose (13 page)

His drunken haze left him quickly, and he became more sober than he ever thought possible. Tiring of the game, Elsa’s mouth opened wider and her muscles tensed as she prepared to spring. Terror, raw and uncontrollable, filled him, and he screamed, then dived for the opening of the tent.

Shadows of clowns and roustabouts encircled him, but Michael was too panic-stricken to explain. Scuttling to his feet, he dashed past them, shouting for help, tearing past anyone who tried to stop him. It wasn’t until he got a good fifty feet from the tent and was sheltered within a grove of trees that he finally stopped, his heart pounding and his lungs burning for air.

It was then that he heard laughter, as clear and as tinkling as a running stream. The sound was quickly squelched, but he heard it again, as if in an uncontrollable outburst. The fog of whiskey gone, he felt a hard fury rise within him.

They’d done this—or rather, she’d done it. Michael had no doubt at whose door he should lay blame for this deed. The panic within him subsided, and his breathing returned to something resembling normal. From his vantage point he could see lights and hear the murmured voices as the clowns sought to investigate a happening they had surely helped to plan. And although he couldn’t see her, he could hear Carney, and the assured concern in her tone as she issued orders and summoned Leonardo.

He’d been set up. Embarrassment flooded through him as he pictured himself, running through the camp like a frightened ten-year-old, shouting for help. He cringed as he remembered them stifling their laughter, knowing all the while just what had sent him screaming into the night.

His anger was dampened slowly by his realization of what had caused it. She’d told him earlier that he was pushing them too far too fast; like a righteous idiot, he’d been so blinded with lust that he hadn’t paid her words any heed. Apparently, he had a mutiny on his hands, and they’d displayed it in a way that had Rosemary Carney written all over it.

A wry smile came to his face, and he felt as if he’d just been taken out to the woodshed by his father, who had tried repeatedly to soften his damnable pride. He wouldn’t let her get away with this. But whatever happened between himself and that clown-woman, he had to face the fact that tonight’s escapade was a team effort. Leonardo had to have been in on it, as well as the clowns, evidenced by their quick appearance at the first sign of trouble. Yes, he had to change his management techniques, or else he could lose everything.

And as for Rosemary Carney—his smile grew deeper. He was furious at her, but he also felt a reluctant twinge of admiration. She had a brain and a diabolical wit that she was obviously determined to use. And she certainly didn’t give up easily. Everything male within him rose to this challenge, especially after what had taken place between them earlier this evening. Rather than being outraged by her blunt rejection of his lovemaking, he was intrigued.

Rosemary Carney may have won this battle, but there were more to come.

She kept far away from him the following day. In fact, none of the performers or the roustabouts seemed overly anxious to spend too much time in his presence. Word had gotten out about the night’s event to anyone who hadn’t been involved in the actual treachery. Michael could tell the innocent by the curious glances that were cast his way, and the guilty by their choked laughter or obvious anxiety. That made him even more aware that he’d been acting like a tyrant.

The sun had barely set and the first show had just finished when he summoned them all to his tent. Their performance that day had been mediocre, and he was forced to admit that their spirit had been trampled by his attempts to improve the show. And although their bodies were free of the effect of whiskey, their hearts were not with Carney’s. The clowns were not tumbling as exuberantly as they had under Rosemary’s direction, the trapeze performers exerted themselves out of habit rather than enthusiasm, and Biddle’s voice rarely reached the excited pitch Michael had witnessed that first night when he’d come to Carney’s. Much as he hated to admit it, Rosemary was right, and he had to come to terms with his people.

The clowns sat before him, all of them watching him carefully, as if they were little children expecting to be punished. The acrobats and performers muttered, Leonardo trembled, Clara rocked back and forth, and the roustabouts stared at him belligerently. And behind them all, wearing that yellow clown suit, was Rosemary Carney, her hands on her hips as if prepared to do battle, her green eyes mocking him as he stood before the troupe.

“I want to thank you all for coming tonight.” Michael stood at the front of the tent, aware that they all watched him suspiciously. “It seems to me that we have a few problems to work out, and I want to take care of them before they get out of control. Today’s performance was less than stellar, as I’m sure you are aware.”

They glanced at each other in confusion, then returned to stare at him collectively once more. Rosemary glared at him, taking his comment as another criticism, one her people could do without.

Realizing what they were thinking, he gentled his tone but maintained a masterful control of the troupe. “I also want to talk about a little episode that took place in my tent last night. The two incidents are not unrelated, and so I will treat them as symptomatic of our problems. Apparently, a lioness found herself in my tent, and I have no doubt as to how she got there.”

A few of the clowns had the nerve to chuckle, but most looked worried. Some of the performers actually dug into their pockets, counting out their money and preparing to be fired. Rosemary bit her lip and stared him down, her expression hidden beneath her gaudy makeup.

“I’ve given the matter a lot of thought, and I’ve decided to make a few changes. First of all, I’m going to reinstate the whiskey policy. Starting tonight.”

The clowns looked at one another in disbelief. One by one their sad faces turned into incredulity, then happiness as they realized he was not joking. The performers cheered, the roustabouts shouted, and the mystic cackled. Only Rosemary looked suspicious, particularly as he continued in the same polished tones.

“Now, I want you to realize that I’m not doing this just because of last night. It has occurred to me that I may have come down on you too hard. I only want the best for the circus, and I want it to be a success. By following my plan, I think you will all realize a much greater profit at the end of the season than you’ve ever seen before. And that translates into more pay.”

The clowns stared at him in disbelief, and Rosemary openly scoffed. Michael ignored her and continued in the same businesslike voice.

“However, we need to come to terms on a few issues. I can hire more people in order to keep the two rings going, but that will cut into your pay increase. I for one believe you can all do it. Now, which will you have?”

They glanced at one another and grins broke out. A little extra pocket money would relieve some of their needs, and although they didn’t get into the show to make a fortune, they could all use a raise. Reluctantly they had to admit that although the last few weeks had been hard, they had been able to do the extra work. One by one their hands went up, and Michael counted the votes.

“Good, it’s settled. You have your whiskey back, and we’ll stay with two rings.”

“What about the feed?” Zachery shouted, spitting out his weed. “Will the animals get the good feed once more?”

Everyone nodded and looked to Michael expectantly. His reputation as a cheapskate more than outweighed any hope that they had of his turnaround. They were surprised, therefore, when he seemed to consider the matter thoughtfully and then spoke.

“All right, here’s what I’ll do. I’ll supplement the poor feed with good. This will cut down on the problems, yet at the same time we’re not overindulging with expensive food.”

Zachery nodded. It wasn’t as much as he’d hoped, but it was something. He settled back down on the tent floor while the others nodded approvingly.

“Are we in agreement? It’s settled, then. Now, I’m going to start having a meeting once a week, to air grievances and discuss our plans. I hope that will allow everyone the chance to express his opinion without fear of retaliation. And in return, I’ll expect no more lionesses wandering into my tent.”

A few of the clowns looked sheepish, and Leonardo grinned. Rosemary stared at him in astonishment, amazed that he was being so considerate. She beamed at him, especially when the troupe perked up and began to applaud, obviously feeling much better about the entire situation.

“Good. The meeting’s adjourned. I expect tonight’s performance to be back on top.”

The troupe began to file out, murmuring among themselves. Rosemary started to leave with them when Michael stopped her, his hand closing securely about her wrist.

“Oh, no, you don’t. You and I have some things to discuss.”

CHAPTER NINE

R
OSEMARY SWALLOWED HARD
, but there was no escape. The members of the troupe, satisfied with the outcome of the meeting, didn’t notice her dilemma and sauntered out, leaving her alone with Michael Wharton. The new circus manager stood at the tent flap, blocking the exit. His cool gray eyes mocked her, and his face remained stern. He had never looked quite so handsome, Rosemary decided, nor so daunting. Not even the night after the knife-throwing incident.

“I notice that you seem to take delight in trying to frighten and embarrass me,” Michael began coolly.

“I do not!” Rosemary said defiantly, but Michael’s expression stopped her. He continued as if she hadn’t spoken.

“Come on, now. First you ran out on me, then you tricked me into providing a target for blind William’s knives…”

“But—”

“And last night you let the lioness in my tent,” he finished, his eyes boring into her.

Rosemary sputtered into silence. She was guilty as charged and knew it was senseless to deny it, especially in the mood he was in. Instead, she braved a smile.

“It was just a joke.” At his expression she wiped away her grin. “I tried to talk to you last night,” she explained quickly. “But instead—”

“We didn’t talk,” he finished for her, watching as a delightful flush of color came to her cheeks. “Let me begin by saying that I understand why you did what you did.”

“You what?” Rosemary stared at him in disbelief, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Instead, he gave her a cool smile and shrugged.

“I was being unreasonable. You did try to talk to me about it, and I, in…let’s say my state of drunkenness and lust, didn’t listen. So you resorted to letting Elsa loose in my tent.”

Rosemary gasped in amazement, then quickly closed her mouth. She still didn’t trust him as far as she could spit, which wasn’t very far.

“Don’t confuse my understanding with the thought that I am willing to tolerate any more of this. I’m not. And as I explained before, I’m not going anywhere, so you can stop trying to frighten me. I’m not some child who will go running home at the first sign of trouble.”

Rosemary nodded. He’d already proved that much.

“So since we agree, I suggest we call a truce. No more games, no more lions, knives, or circuses disappearing into the night. I’ve got to trust you, and you have to learn to trust me. Agreed?”

“Agreed.” Rosemary extended her hand, amazed that he was being so lenient. She had fully expected some harsh retribution, and she was so relieved at his thoughtful response that she shook his hand enthusiastically. “That’s very…noble of you.”

He smiled warmly. “I’m glad you feel that way. It’s time we stopped this and worked as a team. I’ve made some mistakes, but I’ve learned from them and want to start over. You may go now. I believe you have to rehearse.”

Rosemary nodded. She had really misjudged him, or perhaps letting Elsa into his tent had proved more beneficial than even she had dreamed. He’d compromised with the clowns, given them back their whiskey, and he’d let her off with an apology. She could scarcely believe her luck.

Whistling as she walked away with a cocky swagger, she fought to keep from giggling. Apparently, the financier decided to quit while he was ahead. Score one for her side.

Michael stared at the closed tent flap, fighting the grin that finally broke out onto his face. Rosemary Carney undoubtedly thought he was the biggest fool walking the face of the earth. It was just as he’d intended.

Oh, he’d get even with her, all right. But the perfect revenge took planning. From what he’d seen of Rosemary so far, it was the only way to win her respect, and the only way to bring her true emotions out into the open. She’d gotten him three times now, and in any game, three strikes meant an out It was time to even the score.

It had taken every ounce of his control not to react emotionally. It would have been so damned satisfying to do just that, yet he knew instinctively that she’d only use such a reaction to her own benefit. No, he had to teach her a lesson, one that she would fully understand but which would leave no doubt as to who was in charge. If it was games Rosemary wanted to play, he’d play them, but he’d make damned sure he’d win.

And when he’d done just that, she’d have to deal with him as a man. It was a pleasure he was looking forward to.

For the next few days Michael kept to his word and seemed to make a genuine effort to work with the troupe. The whiskey reinstatement did much to endear him to the clowns, and he found that instead of grumbling with resentment every time he issued an order, they responded with a bit less sullenness. The performances perked up, and Carney’s began to display some of the spirit that had made the show famous.