At the time, five years had seemed an eternity, but that date was now upon them, and knowing she had met all of Reverend Hailey’s demands, Catherine had written to advise him that she would be coming to Grafton to talk about regaining custody of Thomas.
She had fulfilled her part of the bargain. Now it was time for the clergyman to live up to his.
* * *
The following Tuesday saw the final performance of Promises and, knowing it was their last show, the cast delivered what Mr Templeton said afterwards was their finest performance of the season. A standing ovation greeted Catherine as she took her bows, and she was showered with bouquets of flowers and expensive gifts when she returned to her dressing room later on.
As always, the diamond brooches and sapphire earrings with accompanying messages and thinly veiled invitations were politely sent back, while the posies of red roses, exotic lilies, pink carnations and sweet-smelling freesia were redistributed amongst the younger cast members; girls who seldom received such tributes.
Only one pink rose, adorned with a white satin bow, was kept.
‘Your unseen admirer will have a bit of a rest now,’ Lily said as she hung Catherine’s costume in the wardrobe. ‘Whatever will he do, I wonder?’
‘Perhaps he will find someone else to admire,’ Catherine said as she removed her necklace of paste emeralds. ‘An actress in one of the other theatres.’
‘He won’t find anyone as talented as you,’ Lily said. ‘I peeked into the audience when you were singing tonight and I swear there wasn’t a dry eye in the house.’ She closed the wardrobe door and glanced around the dressing room. ‘I’ll make sure everything is packed, and I’ve asked Mr Hawkins to give us a hand with the trunk. Are you and Mrs Rankin still leaving in two days’ time?’
‘Yes,’ Catherine said, turning around so that Lily could fasten the pins at the back of her gown. ‘Mrs Rankin is looking into arrangements for the coach.’
‘I’m glad I don’t have to go.’ Lily wrinkled her nose. ‘I don’t like travelling on public coaches.’
‘Neither do I, but at least we will be riding inside.’ Catherine stood up and smoothed back an errant curl. ‘There, I think I’m ready. I shall meet you outside the theatre in half an hour.’
Catherine heard the sound of voices and laughter long before she walked into the crowded lobby, but as soon as she did, people turned and began to cheer her arrival. It still humbled her, these overwhelming tributes to her performances. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined that one day, she would achieve this kind of fame. Indeed, when Miss Marsh had first put forward the idea of singing on the stage, Catherine had been convinced that no one would pay good money to hear her sing, let alone provide her with enough to establish herself as an independent woman. But they had paid to see her, filling the seats and the boxes of the Gryphon Theatre night after night and giving her back far more than she could possibly have given them.
‘Catherine!’
She looked up to see Theo Templeton shouldering his way through the crowd, dapper as always in formal evening attire, his trademark black cape swirling around him. Theo didn’t study the dictates of fashion. He set them; dressing as he pleased because he was rich enough to do so. Even his hair, once as black as midnight but now liberally sprinkled with grey, was worn longer than fashion decreed, but it looked dashing on him and he had the confidence to carry it off.
He reached her side and embraced her in a fatherly hug. ‘A marvellous night, my dear, and you were wonderful. Come and meet your adoring public and celebrate your success!’
He stayed by her side for the next twenty minutes, acting as both buffer and host as Catherine moved through the crowd, acknowledging the accolades and compliments. The gentlemen were all there, of course: the green lads begging for kisses or calling out invitations for supper, the older men like Lords Styles and Tantemon lounging by the stage door, watching her with barely veiled desire. Others, like Lord Hugh Nelson and Mr Stanton, merely smiled and winked.
Caught up in the giddy whirl of the evening, Catherine smiled back, knowing Theo would intervene if any of them came too close. But when she heard his voice rising above the others, she stopped and immediately turned around. ‘Lord Valbourg,’ she said, extending her hand. ‘You came.’
‘Did you think I would miss your final performance?’ He raised her hand to his lips and brushed a kiss against her fingers. ‘Which, I must say, was one of your finest.’
Catherine blushed like a schoolgirl, as though she had never been offered a compliment before. ‘Thank you. Last performances are always special,’ she said, wondering if she would ever develop an immunity to this man’s charm. ‘We strive to send the audience home with good memories.’
‘Judging from what I saw tonight, you succeeded admirably. So, what now?’ he asked, drawing her to one side as Theo moved away to speak to Lady Pearcy. ‘A well-deserved holiday, perhaps?’
‘You could say that. I leave for Cheltenham the day after tomorrow.’
‘Cheltenham! What a coincidence. So do I.’
Catherine’s stomach tightened. ‘Really?’
‘Lord and Lady Brocklehume are hosting a gathering at their country estate,’ Valbourg said, nodding at an acquaintance before turning a thoughtful gaze back on her. ‘Would you care to travel with me?’
Catherine hesitated, but only for a moment. ‘Thank you, but I have already made my arrangements.’
‘And they are?’
‘To take the coach into Gloucester and rendezvous with the lady with whom I shall be staying. She has written to say she will meet me in the square.’
‘She still can, but since we are both bound for the same destination, why not journey together?’ Valbourg said. ‘Time always goes faster when one has company.’
‘But I will have company. My companion, Mrs Rankin, will be travelling with me,’ Catherine said, aware even as she said it that it was a flimsy excuse. A lady of quality never travelled without a maid or a companion, but the thought of spending two days in a carriage with Valbourg and having to make conversation with him was disquieting to say the least. ‘There won’t be room for all of us in your carriage.’
‘There will be if I take the barouche.’
‘But surely your father will need it while you are gone?’
‘Not for the brief time it takes to drive there and back, no.’
Catherine bit her lip. For every objection she put forward, he countered with a solution. If only there weren’t the risks... ‘Lord Valbourg, I am most grateful for your offer, but I’m really not sure it would be wise.’
‘And you, Miss Jones, must stop throwing up roadblocks in my path. If it is your reputation you are worried about, don’t be,’ Valbourg said. ‘You will be travelling with a respectable companion and I can hardly ravish you with her looking on, now can I?’
Shocked, Catherine burst out laughing, only to regret it a moment later when she realised that amusement would not have been the reaction of a well-brought-up young lady. ‘No, I am quite sure you can’t. And were I a respectable young lady, the presence of a companion would likely be enough to quiet wagging tongues. But I am an actress and therefore anyone travelling with me might be equally suspect.’
‘Even though Mrs Rankin is a widow?’
‘Perhaps more so because of it.’
‘Very well. Then I shall make one further suggestion. You and your companion can travel in the carriage and set off first thing in the morning while I shall set out on horseback a few hours later,’ Valbourg said. ‘I will no doubt catch up with you at some point along the road, but for all intents and purposes, we would be leaving London separately, thereby giving the gossips nothing to talk about. Does that meet with your approval?’
Catherine wanted to find fault with his suggestion, but found she was unable to do so without soundin
g ungracious. Yes, there was a possibility she would be seen riding in the Marquess of Alderbury’s carriage, but what harm could come of it if neither the marquess nor Valbourg were with her? Especially since Mrs Rankin would be at her side the entire time. ‘Very well, Lord Valbourg, I accept your offer and thank you for it.’
‘Splendid. Because I have a favour to ask in return. Would you consider singing for Lady Brocklehume and her guests one evening?’ he asked. ‘For a fee, of course.’
Catherine looked at him in surprise. ‘You have taken it upon yourself to arrange your hosts’ entertainments?’
‘Only when it comes to you. The countess enjoys your performances, and I am hopeful if she is very pleased with the arrangements, she will put in a good word for me with her husband. I have been trying to persuade him to sell me one of his prize stallions for some months now.’
It was such a male justification that Catherine couldn’t help but smile. ‘Fine. If that is all that is required by way of repayment, I am happy to comply.’
‘Ah, but I did not say that was all that was required,’ he said, his voice dropping. ‘Have you given any more thought to what we talked about the other night?’
In a heartbeat, Catherine’s mood of joyous optimism faded. She knew what he was referring to and wished with all her heart he would let the matter drop. ‘I have given it no further thought whatsoever. I told you how I felt about the subject at the time.’
‘Yes, but I am not willing to let the matter rest. However, this is neither the time nor the place to discuss it,’ Valbourg said as a cluster of giggling girls made their way across the lobby towards them. ‘Hopefully, we will have an opportunity to converse during the journey to Cheltenham. Or while you are at Swansdowne. I will, of course, arrange for a carriage to collect you from wherever you are staying and return you there after your performance. Unless you wish to spend the night at the manor?’
Catherine’s head whipped round, her gaze locking with his. What was he suggesting? That she might like to stay at Swansdowne for the night...or that he wanted her to? Was he rethinking his decision about the role he wished her to play in his life? She supposed it was possible, but if he thought to initiate an affair at Swansdowne, the chances of it being discovered were exceedingly high. Bedroom hopping was a commonplace event at country-house gatherings, and though a blind eye was often turned to those who were discreet, Catherine suspected an affair between Valbourg and an actress would not be so casually overlooked.
Besides, she would have Thomas with her by then. She had no desire to leave him alone at Gwendolyn’s house after having so recently been reunited with him. ‘Thank you, my lord, but I think it best I return home at the conclusion of the performance. I would not wish to offend my friend by spending a night away so soon after my arrival.’
‘If your friend is aware of how popular a performer you are, I dare say she would understand. However, the decision is yours.’
Catherine nodded, the complexity of her thoughts threatening to bring on a headache. ‘I must be leaving. My maid is waiting for me in the carriage.’
Valbourg bowed. ‘Then I shall escort you to it.’
Catherine was tempted to argue, but the lobby was still crowded with admirers, and none of the gentlemen she wished to avoid had left. No doubt some were waiting to see what she did, perhaps hoping to catch her alone. As such, walking to her carriage on her own might not be the wisest course of action. Theo had moved away and she was reluctant to call him back, though she had a feeling Valbourg would prove a far more effective barrier.
‘What is your address in Cheltenham?’ Valbourg enquired as they walked out to the carriage together.
‘High Street, near the park, but I think it best I make my own way to Swansdowne and back,’ Catherine told him. She saw Lily, who had been waiting by the carriage, bob a curtsy and quickly climb inside. ‘It would be more prudent.’
‘But not nearly as entertaining. However, I bow to your wishes. I shall arrange for the carriage to pick you up from Green Street at eight o’clock Thursday morning.’
Halfway into the carriage, Catherine stopped and turned around. ‘What makes you think I live on Green Street?’
‘Because while you may be a very talented actress, you are an extremely poor liar.’ He helped her the rest of the way into the carriage and then closed the door. ‘Good evening, Miss Jones.’
He nodded at the coachman, and the carriage sprang forward, leaving Catherine with no opportunity to reply. She stared at Lily in bewilderment. ‘How did he know where I lived?’
‘Don’t look at me, miss. I certainly didn’t tell him,’ Lily said. ‘But I doubt it would be all that difficult for a man like that to find out. Is there a reason you don’t want him knowing where you live?’
‘Not really. It’s just that...’ Catherine stopped, thinking about the night she had instructed his coachman to drop her off a few streets over from where she lived. Had Valbourg known even then that she was lying? ‘Never mind. I don’t suppose it matters.’
‘Did I hear him say he would be seeing you in Cheltenham, miss?’
‘Hmm? Oh, yes. Apparently Lord and Lady Brocklehume are holding a gathering in the area, and when I told Lord Valbourg I was also travelling to Cheltenham, he asked if I would be willing to sing for them. I said I would, at which point he kindly offered me the use of his father’s carriage.’
‘And very nice, too!’ Lily said, her expression of curiosity changing to one of satisfaction. ‘I suspect that’s because he’s sweet on you.’
‘He is not sweet on me!’ Catherine said, cheeks burning. ‘A man like that would never be interested in someone like me.’
‘But a man like that doesn’t do things for people like you unless he wants to...and he clearly likes doing things for you,’ Lily pointed out. ‘So you can interpret it how you like. I still say he’s sweet on you.’
Catherine didn’t bother to reply. What was the point? Lily was a hopeless romantic who was forever devouring penny novels with the belief that dark, handsome heroes existed to sweep beautiful young women off their feet. It didn’t matter how often she was told that fiction seldom resembled real life or that the heroines of most stories didn’t live happily ever after. Lily preferred her own way of looking at the world.
Still, Catherine couldn’t deny that whether by chance or design, she was seeing rather a lot of Valbourg, nor could she deny that she was flattered by his regard. He was handsome, charming and considerate; more so than any man she had ever met. Unfortunately, he was also a marquess’s son and the type of man for whom a woman happily and willingly did foolish things.
Catherine could not afford to be foolish. Valbourg was just passing through her life. The best she could hope for with him was the kind of tawdry relationship she had been offered and turned down so many times before.
Besides, how would he feel about her when he learned about Thomas? Would he turn away in disgust? Ask why she was keeping herself chaste when her son’s existence proved she was anything but?
Best not go down that road, Catherine warned herself. She had endured enough heartache over the past five years. She had no desire to live through any more in the future.
* * *
The night after the Gryphon closed, Theo and Tandy Templeton threw one of their lavish dinner parties. The entire company was invited, and Catherine was persuaded, as were several other members of the cast, to stage an informal entertainment after dinner. Victor Trumphani would recite a passage from a Shakespearean play, Tommy Silver, one of the newcomers to the troupe, would perform wondrous tricks of magic and illusion, and Catherine would sing a selection of songs.
Anthea Templeton, or Tandy as she liked to be called, always invited an eclectic mixture of guests to her dinner parties; everyone from a viscount and his lady to a doctor and his unmarried sister. Catherine was introduced to a b
arrister and his beautiful French fiancée, several extremely wealthy gentlemen whose conversations led her to believe they spent more time out of the country than in it and a delightful Italian count whose broken English was colourful if not always correct.
‘He can be quite outrageous,’ Tandy confided. ‘But he is such an interesting man, no one really minds. Just don’t take anything he says to heart. Italians can be such notorious flirts. I should know. I almost married one!’
As always, the guests mingled together well, no doubt due to the relaxed atmosphere Theo and Tandy took such care to foster. Catherine spotted the viscountess laughing with the barrister’s wife, saw the doctor chatting with Victor Trumphani and heard Theo speaking quite respectable French to the barrister’s fiancée. The Italian count flirted with every lady he could, but Catherine soon discovered that Tandy was right. He was harmless as long as you didn’t let his blandishments go to your head.
Then, to Catherine’s dismay, he walked in. Valbourg, with Lord and Lady Castingrote and their eldest daughter, Lady Susan Wimsley, at his side. She had no idea if he was with Lady Susan or if they had simply arrived at the same time, but the sight of him laughing so easily with an earl’s daughter caused a painful and entirely unexpected constriction in her chest.
‘They’re not together,’ Tandy whispered as she sailed past. ‘But I do not think Lady Susan’s mother would be unhappy to see them end up that way.’
She was gone before Catherine had a chance to say she barely knew Valbourg and didn’t care if he was there with someone, even though she knew in some twisted corner of her heart that she did. Nor did it help that he made a point of walking across the room to speak to her.
‘Good evening, Miss Jones. We seem destined to keep bumping into one another.’
‘We do indeed, my lord,’ Catherine replied, drawing on her skills as an actress to make it sound as though such meetings were of no great importance. ‘Though I am surprised to find you mingling at a gathering like this.’
‘Why? Because not all of the guests are wealthy blue bloods?’
No Place for an Angel Page 6