My Fair Guardian

by Suzanne G. Rogers

  “What about washroom facilities? I need hot and cold running water.”

  “You’re in luck.” The manager gestured toward a doorway at the far end of the room. “You’ve got a private toilet, sink, and bathtub included in the rent. The lights are all electric as well.”

  Although Will could afford to pay whatever the man asked, he knew his expensive clothing would present an irresistible incentive to overcharge.

  “Is the rent negotiable?”

  The manager shook his head. “I’m afraid not.”

  “I understand. Well, I have several more premises to see today. I’ll let you know.”

  Will had nearly reached the door when the manager cleared his throat. “I might be able to take ten percent off with a year’s lease.”

  “That’s a little better.”

  Will crossed over to inspect the bathroom, which was rudimentary but clean. The taps produced a clear stream of water, and the lighting fixture overhead worked with a switch on the wall. He’d already been to five different lofts that morning, none of which fit his needs, and he had begun to think his quest was futile. This studio, although not luxurious, was close to being perfect.

  “A year’s lease, did you say?”

  The manager pursed his lips. “I’ll throw in a fortnight rent on top of that, with my compliments. It’s important to have a steady gentleman such as yourself in residence.”

  “I tell you what, draw up the paperwork and I’ll meet you in your office in…” Will consulted his pocket watch. “…two hours. Would that suit you?”

  The man nodded. “Aye, but don’t be late. I have several other prospective tenants who will take the premises if you don’t.”

  Will preceded the man from the third-story loft, made his way to the ground floor, and left the building. Only after he was out of the manager’s sight did he permit a frown to reach his lips. The studio fit his needs, but he hadn’t anticipated signing a lease today. Although his reading ability was improving daily, he still didn’t trust himself to be able to decipher a legal document, especially not while the manager was standing by, impatient for his signature. He would have to hail a taxi, pick Mr. Pace up at Summerland, and be back in two hours—unless the fellow had not yet returned from his outing with Jane. Bethany would help, if she was at home, but he couldn’t count on that, either. She might have decided to take her manuscript to Mr. Gerard personally.

  No cabs were in sight, but as Will scanned his surroundings, he noticed he was near the Gaiety Theatre, where Charlie worked. His old friend already knew he couldn’t read, wouldn’t sneer at him for it, and could be persuaded to help. Will set off down the pavement, glad for a chance to speak with Charlie and some of his other former acquaintances, including the manager, George Edwardes. Will had painted several backdrops for burlesques at the Gaiety, including Faust up to Date and Miss Esmeralda, and he knew Mr. Edwardes—nicknamed the Guv’nor— would remember him.

  He made his way to the stage entrance on Wellington Street, and was immediately confronted by the stage manager.

  “Go on ’round to the front entrance, sir. This entrance is for performers and stagehands only.”

  Will grinned. “It’s me, Andy. Willoughby Winter.”

  Andy peered at him for a few moments before recognition lit his features. “Is it really you, Will? Ha! You look as if you’ve landed on your feet, lad.”

  “Just a bit. I’ve come to see Charlie Perkins, if he’s around.”

  “You’re in luck.” The manager stood aside to let him in. “We’re dark today but Charlie’s in the Guv’nor’s office, picking up his wages.”

  “Ah, yes, the happiest day of the month.”

  As Will passed through the beautiful semicircular theater, he paused to glance at the stage. A slight tug of nostalgia brought a smile to his lips…and yet a shrug lifted his shoulders. Even though he could read a bit now, he would never fit in as a West End actor any longer. He still didn’t feel a part of high society either, but life with the Christensens had changed him in both significant and subtle ways.

  He walked to the center of the stage and lifted his arm. “A horse! A horse! My kingdom for a horse!” His voice echoed throughout the large theater, which could hold over two thousand spectators at one time.

  To his surprise, he heard the next line from Richard III.

  “Withdraw, my lord; I'll help you to a horse.”

  Will waved. “Hullo, Charlie!”

  His friend had appeared in one of the balconies along with the theater manager—a tweedy-looking fellow in his mid-thirties who sported a prodigious walrus mustache.

  “What are you doing down there?” Edwardes called out. “Is this your subtle way of asking to audition, Winter?”

  Will chuckled and shook his head. “Not at all, Guv’nor. I just came looking for the reprobate at your side.”

  “Wait there. I want to talk with you,” the manager replied.

  A short while later, Charlie and Edwardes joined Will on stage.

  “I noticed your illustration in the Times the other day, and I didn’t have to look at the credit to know it was yours,” Edwardes said.

  “Thank you.” Will nodded. “I was rather fortunate to have it published, and it’s led to other opportunities. I’m leasing an art studio a short distance from here so I can spread out.”

  The man lifted his eyebrows. “I always knew you’d hit your stride. What would you say to painting an advertising poster for our upcoming production, Carmen up to Data? It’s to have a tryout in Liverpool in September, but we’d like to get the posters up now.”

  Charlie grinned. “It’s to be a spoof of Carmen, starring Florence St. John. I’m to understudy E.J. Lonnen and alternate with him on matinees.”

  “I’d love to take the project.” Will smiled. “We can feature Miss St. John in a pretty gown, if you’ve got the costumes ready.”

  Edwardes beamed. “The costumes for the principles are done. Why don’t you come back when Florence is here Friday morning and you can get started?”

  “I’ll bring my sketchbook.” Will shook the manager’s hand. “Thank you for the vote of confidence.”

  As Will and Charlie left the theatre together, his friend gave him a sidelong glance. “I think you owe me lunch, don’t you think? If you hadn’t come to look for me, that job might have gone to some other bounder.”

  Will grinned. “I would have invited you to dine with me at any rate, but there’s something you can do for me first.”

  “Anything at all, preferably if it’s illegal.”

  Will rolled his eyes. “Actually, I want you to pretend to be my man of business and read over my lease before I sign it.”

  Charlie made a gesture of invitation. “Lead on, good fellow. Afterward, however, I insist on a bowl of stew and a pint while I tell you what I’ve discovered about Mr. Nicholas Masters and Miss Magenta Urban.”

  “If you have information about Nicholas Masters and Magenta Urban, make it a steak and as many pints as you wish.”

  ∞∞∞

  As Jane and Mrs. Halliwell’s twins—a boy and a girl—played Snap at the table in the drawing room, Bethany and Mrs. Halliwell had an intimate chat.

  “What do you mean the Masters family wealth is diminished?” Bethany shook her head. “I’ve not heard a word of this.”

  “The information has been kept under wraps, but the family had a series of misfortunes that eroded their wealth. There was a fire on their coffee plantation in India and some of their other investments went sour. The family has tried to put on a brave front, but they were obliged to sell their country estate and all their carriages except for one. Now, more than ever, young Nicholas must marry well.”

  Bethany massaged her temples with her fingertips. “It’s no wonder that Magenta threw him over.”

  “No, it was her brother who objected to the match.” Mrs. Halliwell leaned forward. “As far as Miss Urban and Mr. Masters are concerned, I believe they are just as enamored as before.�
��

  Bethany made a sound of disgust. “I suspected as much, but I don’t understand why he would have renewed his addresses to me.”

  “In my opinion, Mr. Masters aims to marry a wealthy girl who will not object to his carrying on with Miss Urban.”

  Bethany gasped. “No!”

  When the children glanced over, Bethany forced herself to smile until they resumed their game.

  Mrs. Halliwell continued. “Earlier this Season, Mr. Masters was attempting to ensnare little Miss Dougherty. As mousy as the girl is, she was smart enough to figure out his intentions and send him packing.” The woman patted Bethany’s hand. “You should always come to me about these things, my dear, and I’ll set you straight if I can.”

  “Perhaps you can answer another question. Since Magenta accused my guardian of improprieties, we’ve lost invitations, left and right. Why would people take her word over his?”

  Mrs. Halliwell waved her hand, dismissively. “You know how it is with sheep. They get one whiff of disgrace and off they run, over the cliff. Part of the problem is unfamiliarity with Mr. Winter, I imagine, but if there is no other hint of scandal, invitations will flow once more.”

  Bethany gave her a worried glance. “Do you really think so? Mr. Winter and I were heartened to receive an invitation to Lady Calloway’s fancy dress ball, although she only invited us so Mr. Winter could sketch the event.”

  “The ball is expected to be the event of the Season.” The woman gave a decisive nod. “Your attendance should go a long way toward rehabilitating Mr. Winter’s image. Furthermore, I shall stand by you, come what may.”

  Bethany relaxed her shoulders. “I cannot begin to thank you for your kindness.”

  Mrs. Halliwell gave her a sidelong glance. “Your interest in Mr. Winter’s welfare is personal, I take it?”

  Bethany bit back a smile. “Perhaps.”

  The woman pouted. “Angus will be forlorn once he learns you are spoken for.”

  “I don’t wish to mislead you, Mrs. Halliwell. Mr. Winter and I are not engaged.”

  “But clearly you have expectations in that direction.” Mrs. Halliwell sighed. “I did have a fond desire to have you as a daughter-in-law, Miss Christensen.”

  Bethany nodded toward Jane and the twins. “Between your younger son and my sister, our families may yet be joined some day.”

  As the two ladies glanced over, however, the boy swept all the cards off the table and into Jane’s lap, in an obvious fit of pique. The two girls jumped up and an argument ensued.

  His mother’s eyes widened in horror. “Finlay, apologize at once!”

  The lad stood like a soldier at ease, with his hands behind his back. “I’m sorry.”

  Despite his words, Bethany had never seen anyone less contrite.

  She smiled. “Perhaps we should go.”

  Although Finlay stood off to one side, aloof, the girls embraced one another like old friends. As Bethany and Jane rode home in the carriage a few minutes later, Bethany gave her sister a concerned glance. “I’m glad you liked Felicia, but I’m sorry you took a dislike to her brother.”

  Jane giggled. “I don’t dislike him. In fact, I think he’s quite good-looking and intelligent.”

  Bethany’s eyebrows rose. “Then why did he act the way he did?”

  “You know how boys are.” She shrugged. “I beat him at Snap.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  A Fighter

  In a picturesque chophouse frequented by theatergoers and local businessmen, Charlie took a bite of steak and moaned with pleasure as he chewed. “I don’t remember when I ate like this last.” He spoke with his mouth full.

  Will chuckled. “There’s nothing better than a thick, juicy steak and a baked potato.”

  “Unless it’s a thick, juicy steak and baked potato I don’t have to pay for.” Charlie washed his mouthful down with a long swig of ale. “What’s the story behind that loft? Are you planning on stashing a girl there?”

  “No. I need a place with light and air to work in.”

  “I’ll take you at your word. Now listen.” He leaned forward. “I asked around for information and I heard an earful. Nicholas Masters’s family fortune took a mighty tumble late last summer and he must marry an heiress as a result.”

  Will’s eyes widened. “That must have been why Miss Urban threw him over, then. She learned of his financial distress and thought she could do better elsewhere.”

  “I don’t know one way or the other about that part.” Charlie drank some ale before attacking his steak again. “But it seems Miss Urban has skeletons in her closet.”

  Will swallowed a bite of buttered potato. “You have my attention.”

  “The high and mighty Miss Urban and her snooty elder brother take great pains to say their mother is dead, but that ain’t the case. The woman has been married twice, and shortly after her second marriage, she abandoned her children and her new husband and took to the stage as Indigo Aldersgate.”

  “Indigo Aldersgate?” Will sat back in his seat, his mind spinning. “You must be joking.”

  Charlie’s eyebrows drew together. “Have you heard of her? I understand she set sail for America perhaps fifteen years ago or maybe a little longer.”

  “I didn’t know she was an actress, but I have heard the name. I believe she was married to an acquaintance of my cousin Frederick—a Captain Aldersgate.”

  “Poor fellow.” Charlie belched. “That’s women for you. Always running off where the pasture is greener, regardless of the grass stains involved.”

  Despite Will’s lingering shock at Charlie’s information, his old friend never failed to make him laugh. “You ought to start your own private detective agency, laddie. You’re rather good at this sort of thing.”

  “I might do just that, once I’m not quite so pretty any longer.” He glanced over at a lady sitting at the next table and gave her a salacious wink. When she glanced away with a sound of disgust, Charlie chortled into his tankard of ale. “Maybe it’ll be sooner than I think.”

  His friend went on to talk about his work at the Gaiety, but Will was distracted. In the back of his mind, he felt as if he were putting together the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. As Captain Aldersgate’s stepdaughter, Magenta Urban would consider his enemies to be hers. What better way for her to exact revenge against Frederick Leopold than to bedevil his ward at every turn? Once Will became Bethany’s guardian, Magenta had undoubtedly tried to compromise him to hurt her even more. Her gambit had failed, fortunately, but what would the woman try next? Thank heavens she would never discover Frederick Leopold was his father or the odds of her actually hurting Bethany would improve immeasurably. That was something he could not permit.

  Will pushed a sovereign across the table, which Charlie eyed with keen interest. “I take it you have another request?”

  Will nodded. “Find out as much information as you can about Indigo Aldersgate.”

  Charlie chuckled as he picked up the gold coin with his thumb and fingertip. “Give me something difficult next time, won’t you?”

  ∞∞∞

  Bethany bent over the writing desk in the drawing room, copying pages from her novel. As she wrote, however, she stopped from time to time to stare out at nothing. So Nick had planned to marry her and leave her at Lansings Lodge while he carried on with his mistress here in town? No doubt he would have installed Magenta at Summerland, so the woman could be doubly smug in her revenge. She glanced down at the page, only to realize she’d copied the same sentence twice. With a sound of disgust, she crumpled the paper into a little ball and started fresh.

  When Will arrived home, Bethany’s hand was cramping. She rose from the desk as he entered the drawing room.

  “I’m so glad you’re here.” She smiled. “I have much with which to acquaint you.”

  “As do I.”

  Will crossed the room without a word and wrapped his arms around her. Although she enjoyed the gesture, her eyebrows rose.

  “Is a
nything amiss?”

  “Yes…and no.” He took a deep breath and stepped back. “I heard from a friend of mine today that Magenta Urban isn’t who you think she is.”

  As Will related his conversation with a former theater acquaintance by the name of Charlie, she dropped onto the sofa in shock.

  “So her bedevilment wasn’t my imagination!” She shook her head to clear it. “She sought me out in the beginning, pretending to be my friend. Very shortly thereafter, her pointed remarks about my hair and clothes began to rob me of my confidence. Whenever I expressed any interest in a gentleman, she was there to divert his attention.”

  “Until I came along.”

  Bethany gazed up at him. “Until you came along.” Her misty smile faded. “Do you suppose her brother supports her campaign against me?”

  He came to sit next to her. “I don’t know, but Magenta was very young when her mother abandoned the family. Therefore, she may have been more susceptible to Captain Aldersgate’s plan for revenge.”

  Bethany laughed mirthlessly. “In a way, this reminds me of Great Expectations.”

  Will gave her a quizzical glance. “Which expectations are those?”

  “Oh, no. Great Expectations is a novel by Charles Dickens. In the story, a bitter, jilted woman raises a beautiful orphan to break the heart of any man unfortunate enough to fall in love with her.”

  “How ghastly.”

  “I always thought such vengeful people could only be works of fiction, but Captain Aldersgate was evidently such a man.” Bethany gave Will a worried glance. “The Urbans cannot be permitted to find out who you really are or there is no telling what they might do!”

  “It won’t come to that. Despite what they’ve told their society friends, their mother took to the stage and is still alive by all accounts.”

  Bethany gasped. “Having an actress in the family will destroy Magenta and her brother’s social standing!”

  “Exactly. I’ve asked Charlie to learn what he can about Indigo Aldersgate.”

  She cocked her head. “To what end?”

  “I intend to confront the Urbans with it and demand they leave off this ridiculous quest to avenge their stepfather. If they don’t, they should prepare to have their mother’s occupation made public.”