“Oh, dear. Well, I must be going.”
“You do see the wisdom of staying away from the backstage area?”
“Very well, I will let you win this argument. I will accept the use of your theater boxes.” She hopped into the hackney and told the driver to whip up his horse.
“Let me win?” Brand asked as they left him standing in the alley puzzling over her comment.
Chapter Nine
Brand strode in the back door and realized Grace must have brushed up against the wet scenery. He paused for a moment to admire the new backdrop as he listened to the actors. He heard Stone chiding them for mouthing his lines. When the manager saw him in the wings he motioned Brand toward the gallery and met him there.
“I cannot give you all the boxes I promised you for opening night.”
“What do you need them for? Miss Montrose?”
“How did you know that?”
“It’s taken care of. Since I am attending her theater party I told her I would hire the boxes.”
“You spoke to her?”
“Don’t look so amazed. We do move in the same circles.”
Stone looked relieved but wary. “Since you are so thick with her here is another demand you can satisfy better than I. She wants William Marlowe to attend her opening night party.”
Brand rolled his eyes heavenward. “You refused, of course.”
“I tried but I cannot keep making excuses for his nonappearance. It is beginning to cause talk. You are either going to have to admit you write the plays, or…”
Brand watched Stone as he struggled to spit out the alternative. “Well go on, or what?”
“Or hire someone to play William Marlowe for you.”
Brand stared at him a moment before he saw the possibilities this solution might provide especially at a dinner party with the supposed playwright. People might say what they really thought of the performance and he would secretly know if they liked his work or not. Especially he would know what Grace thought without having to reveal himself.
“You agree?” Stone asked.
“The idea has merit but where would we find someone on such short notice?”
Stone spread his arms. “I know the very fellow. I would have hired him to play your latest hero if we did not already have Robert Carstairs.”
“But he would have to be coached,” Brand protested.
“Not so very much. He is a fledgling playwright himself and an avid fan of yours so he has been studying your work. Not only would he play William Marlowe for almost nothing he would in turn benefit by talking with you. What do you say?”
“Would he swear never to reveal my identity?”
“Of course.” Stone clapped Brand on the back.
“Produce this paragon.”
“Be here tomorrow at eleven o’clock and I will introduce you.”
“When you say it will cost me almost nothing what do you mean?”
“I will leave it to your conscience what you pay him. You may deal with him tomorrow. He has a university education and is well spoken, plus being a handsome lad. But you shall see for yourself. And this will solve the problem of that meddlesome Miss Montrose always hounding me to meet the playwright.”
Brand nodded. “Yes, it certainly will.”
* * * * *
“What’s that?” Grace asked of the bundle Maria handed her as they neared the house.
“A copy of the script for Two Hearts.”
Grace snatched it and held it to her chest. “Where did you get it?”
“I bought it from one of the bit actors. He has only three lines and he’s already learned those.”
“Oh, you are a gem. I will give you tenfold what you paid for it.”
“Nonsense, it’s a present.”
When Grace and Maria arrived on her doorstep it was nearly three o’clock and they discovered Lady Charlton, her daughter and Captain Everson just being turned away by the butler.
“Oh, Grace, dear, you are home after all. For a moment I almost thought your man was denying you to me.”
“Lady Charlton. If I had any idea you meant to call…” Grace caught Maria’s resigned look and decided not to fib. I would have been ten minutes later,Grace thought. But membership in the ton did carry its chores and receiving callers was one of them. At least Everson might make the visit interesting. She entrusted the script to Maria who rushed upstairs with the basket.
“Will you take tea with us?” Grace asked as she removed her gloves and quickly checked her hair in the hall mirror to make sure Brand had removed all of the bits of paint.
“Yes, I need to talk to you.”
Grace did not like the way the older lady said this and followed her into the morning room leaving Everson and Lucy to trail after her. Since Lucy clung to the captain’s good left arm, Grace wondered if the girl was falling for him.
“Some tea, Finch.” She pointedly had not asked for any cakes though she feared her cook would provide some. And she wondered if Maria would make her sewing chores an excuse to avoid the visit. If not for Lady Charlton Grace would be reading Two Hearts at this very moment. But her companion must have taken the script and basket of costumes to her room, then had an attack of conscience, for she was back down the stairs almost before they had comfortably seated themselves.
“This theater party, it will not do,” Lady Charlton said. “You are inviting Lord Morewood and you should not. He is accounted a great rake.”
“You invited him to your house.”
“I am a widow,” she said with pride.
With a marriageable daughter, Grace thought.
Finch brought the tea tray, a welcome diversion since it took several minutes to pour for everyone and think of a defense. She made sure Everson had a small table handy but the uncomfortable look on his face probably had nothing to do with his injury. “It is too late to discuss this. The invitations have been sent and accepted but for yours. I take it your disapproval means you will not be attending,” Grace said then took a sip.
Grace could see some inner struggle going on inside the woman while the Captain smiled and gave Grace a nod. So he had a sense of humor. Perhaps she should get to know him better. Finally Lucy broke out with, “Mama, I do want to go. Think of it. Opening night and I may get to share a box with Lord Morewood.”
“Of course Captain Everson, you are welcome to attend. I finally got a commitment on enough boxes for everyone.”
“Thank you, Miss Montrose. Lady Charlton, I could escort Lucy but I’m guessing that even as a cousin that would be less than socially acceptable. Whereas Miss Montrose’s invitation to a mixed party of people should not raise an eyebrow.”
Grace had not thought a soldier would be so well spoken, not to mention on her side though she would certainly give up his company to be rid of Lady Charlton. His hair was shorter than Brand’s but one curl hung seductively over his forehead. He was probably on sick leave at half pay. Depending on the nature of his injury, he might have a grim prospect of the future.
“If I decide we shall attend, it will be for the purpose of chaperoning Miss Montrose.”
“Here now,” Maria said. “I think that is what I am for.”
Grace choked on her tea. “I wouldn’t for the world ask you to appear at an entertainment that you thought might damage your reputation.”
“Damage my reputation?” Their guest looked shocked at the idea.
Finch appeared in the doorway swaying slightly. “Lord Morewood and Mister Robin Briggs,” he said ominously as though she already had her quota of callers.
“Miss Montrose,” Brand said. “Tell us if we are being a nuisance and we will be off. My nephew is only in Town for a short stay and I thought to introduce him to you.”
“Of course we want to meet him.” Grace rose and accepted Robin’s hand.
Robin made his bow and Grace made introductions all around.
“What happened to your face?” Lady Charlton demanded.
Robin flush
ed. “Neglected to duck a facer but I shall do better next time. What happened to your—”
Brand clapped his nephew on the back so forcibly the boy took a step forward. “Robin is here for some fencing lessons, a part of his education that has been sadly neglected along with other parts.” He ignored Robin’s resentful look.
Grace pursed her lips. “How do you take your tea, Robin?”
“Milk and sugar please.”
“Just plain for me,” Brand said as he took a cup from her and seated himself.
Lady Charlton stared at Brand. “What do you think of this theater party? If you were the one to give it I might not have such misgivings, but a maiden lady…”
Grace saw a pained expression cross Everson’s face before he said, “It seems unfair that a theater party inappropriate for Miss Montrose to throw is lent respectability when hosted by Lord Morewood.”
Since Brand had not heard the precursor to this he should not have taken offence but somehow he did. “The evening is to honor the author, William Marlowe and I have it from Mr. Stone that the playwright will be able to attend.”
“He will?” Grace asked, sitting up straight. “You have his address?”
“Not yet but rest assured William Marlowe will put in an appearance at your—the party and sit with you for the opening performance of Two Hearts.”
“This is wonderful.” Grace could not keep the awe from her voice.
Lady Charlton gave a sigh of impatience. “But it hardly makes the thing more respectable, Grace.”
She was about to answer her when the clear cries of infant Ned demanding his next feeding resounded from above stairs.
“What was that?” Lady Charlton demanded.
“What was what?” Grace asked as she sipped her tea, madly trying to think of a reply. She saw Everson’s gaze slide toward her, then toward Brand.
Lady Charlton clapped her cup into her saucer and plunked it down on the small table beside her chair. “I distinctly heard a baby cry.”
“Oh that. Maria, would you go see if they need anything?”
Her companion threw her a relieved look before she escaped the room. Of course, when she opened the doors, the baby could for an instant be heard even more clearly.
“Well, are you going to explain?” her guest demanded.
Grace ignored Brand’s rueful look and saw that Robin was glancing from one to the other of them, possibly hoping things might develop into an all out brawl, so she kept her temper under tight rein. “I am not sure you would wish me to.”
“Of course I do,” snapped the older woman.
“I have taken in a young girl who was fired by her former employee when it became known she was pregnant.”
Lucy gasped.
“Lucy, go wait in the carriage.”
“But, Mama…”
“You heard me.” Lady Charlton pinned her lips together until her daughter had exited the room.
Grace had thought that the captain would go with her but he seemed to be enjoying himself too much.
“Miss Montrose, am I to understand that there is an illegitimate baby in your household?”
“I thought I had made that clear.”
“I, for one, cannot understand the risk you have taken to your social position.”
Brand stood up. “If Miss Montrose’s kindness prompted her to take in an unfortunate girl, she should not be chided for her act, but rather commended.”
“I am sure she meant it for the best but no one will understand. Besides, such women must learn the consequences for their mistakes.”
Grace could feel her outrage burning in her chest. “Yes, privation was ever a good teacher.”
“But there must be some punishment for her sin,” Lady Charlton insisted. “Let her go live where such things are accepted.”
Brand had been pacing in front of the empty fireplace but stopped and fastened a menacing gaze on Lady Charlton. “If every woman who made the mistake of trusting a man was condemned to Convent Garden there would be precious few ladies left in Mayfair.”
The older woman gasped, Everson gave a crack of laughter and Grace stared at Brand in pleased surprise. She had been afraid he might agree with her visitor or keep silent and say “I told you so” later. Here he was defending her actions.
“What am I to make of that?” Lady Charlton turned to Grace, her gloved hand at her throat.
Brand nodded at Grace as though it was her turn to deliver a line and when she thought about it the setup had been theatrical.
“I don’t expect you to think about it at all,” Grace said, “since that is how the girl came to be discharged in the first place.”
“Why, what do you mean?”
“As you may by now have guessed the infant belongs to Jilly the very girl you turned out.”
Robin howled and Everson had to turn his face away. Lady Charlton’s exposed skin became a bright pink. Brand rocked on his heels in obvious satisfaction.
“Well I— I did what any other lady would have done.”
“Not any other lady,” Brand said.
“Well—well she couldn’t do her work and I won’t be laughed at by a scrub-faced schoolboy.” She stood up and gathered her shawl about her. “Ferrol, are you coming?”
“This cub,” Brand said, regarding Robin fondly, “unpromising though he may look, happens to be my heir. Have a care how you speak of him.”
“Well!” After the older woman had rustled out and there was nothing left but the cloying trace of her scent and the raucous laughter of Robin, the captain looked back at them and smiled, clicking his heels together and nodding a brief bow of appreciation.
Grace was staring at Brand, struggling to keep a bubble of mirth from bursting out.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
Grace sighed. “Do you think she might really drop me, Brand?”
“Don’t sound so wistful. I don’t think there’s the smallest chance, not before opening night anyway.”
“Not so long as you are a possibility for her daughter,” Grace said. “Though if you are not careful you may lose Lucy to the handsome captain.”
“I doubt that. Most soldiers are not considered prime game by matchmaking mamas even if they have a family connection.”
“Uncle Brand?” Robin asked. “Go on! He’d never marry such a whey-faced chit and with such a spiteful old biddy for a mother.”
“For once I must share your opinion, Robin.” Brand gave his nephew a look of approval.
“Brand, where does your nephew get his uncanny ability to read character?”
“Not from his mother.”
“Now, tell me the truth, you still don’t approve of my charitable impulses, yet you defended them.” Grace stood, observing him face-to-face with her hands on her hips.
“It’s not your kindness I argued against, but your direct involvement. In that respect I was very much more at fault than Lady Charlton.”
“You admit you were wrong?” She could not keep the surprise in her voice from taunting him.
“Yes, I shall grovel if you like, but it might give Robin a swelled head.”
“No, I am quite satisfied to have you agree with me. But why the change of heart?”
Brand smiled and leaned against the mantle. “My mother has a way of bringing me off my high horse.”
“Your mother is a dear.”
“Which puts me in mind of my other errand. So that you and William Marlowe won’t be total strangers on the day of the party I came to invite you—no, I came as envoy from my mother to invite you and Miss Gravely to dinner tomorrow night to meet the author. Will you come?”
“Of course we will come.”
Chapter Ten
“William Marlowe, meet Joshua Lake,” Stone said and folded his arms across his broad chest. They were in Stone’s office at the Pantheon and Brand liked the look of the young fellow.
“Very funny,” Brand said as he shook hands with the shorter dark-haired man. Lake was
younger than him and affable-looking. “I hope you understand, Lake, that my identity and connection to the plays must be kept in the strictest confidence.”
“Yes, of course,” Lake said. They sat in the two armchairs facing Stone’s desk. “I don’t understand why, but I am so happy to meet you. I am a great admirer of your work.”
“Whiskey, gentlemen?” Stone asked as a formality but he poured straight from a bottle into three glasses.
Brand picked up the tumbler and sipped, surprised by the smoothness of the liquor. “Let us hope you will prove such a superb actor I can return the compliment. Has Stone outlined what you are to do?”
“Yes. I know your other two plays by heart already. I have only to study the script for Two Hearts and I think I can discuss your work creditably with anyone.”
“But William Marlowe did not spring from nowhere,” Brand said. “You must have a history.”
Lake cleared his throat and leaned back in the chair. “I suggest that I use my own and indicate that I have taken William Marlowe as a pen name. That way nothing can be disputed.”
“Excellent,” Brand replied. “What is your history?”
“Briefly, I am the younger son of a country vicar. I did well at Oxford but find myself unsuited—or perhaps unwilling—to take up the ministry. My reason for being in London is to take care of my brother who was brought back from the Peninsula with a fever. Once he is recuperated to the point he won’t shock my father I shall take him home…if he is willing. Gavin can be contrary.”
“Admirable of you. Will you attend a dinner tonight to meet Miss Montrose who is hosting your opening night party?”
“Yes, of course. Only tell me the time and place.”
“Here is my direction.” Brand pulled out his calling card. “I shall send my carriage for you.”
“Not a good idea. I live off Drury Lane. And if it’s evening dress I need, I may have to borrow a costume from Mr. Stone.”
“Not for tonight but for the opening we will rig you out. Call on my tailor tomorrow. Let me write his direction on the back of the card. I will handle the bills. Mind you, I want him to make you a couple of sets of clothes. This may prove to be a long-term engagement. What do you say to fifty pounds a month?” Brand handed Lake the first installment of his wages.
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