Diary of a Painted Lady

by Maggi Andersen

  After a moment the somber man came to his call. “My hat, coat and cane, please. I’m going out.”

  “Will you be here for luncheon, sir?”

  Blair felt a prickle of annoyance at the man’s inquisitiveness. “I don’t know. I’ll have something cold if I do.”

  “I suppose I shouldn’t have come here,” Gina said as they walked down the steps. “The servants will be talking.”

  “That doesn’t bother me. I regret it for your sake, however.”

  “There’s not much left of my reputation to destroy,” Gina said pragmatically. She looked over the road. “Oh, how nice.”

  In Green Park, women in pretty dresses held frilly parasols and strolled about on their gentlemen’s arms.

  He found a vacant bench and they sat down.

  Blair turned to face her. “I know of a suitable apartment. I can procure it by the end of the week. Does that give you enough time?”

  She nodded. “I have little to pack. I don’t have any presentable clothes, though, Mr. Dunleavy.”

  “Call me Blair, please Gina.”

  “Blair,” she repeated.

  He liked the sound of his name on her lips and wished she would smile, that a light of promise would come into her eyes. Didn’t she know how to play the game? “Then you shall have a whole new wardrobe. I’ll take you shopping on Monday.”

  Then he saw it, that sudden flash of delight, quickly repressed. He felt sure it wasn’t for him.

  “I don’t need much, Mr.…Blair. A nice hat, blue I think.”

  He wanted to give her the world. “You shall have much more than that. You can shop at the stores where I carry credit. Evening gowns and day dresses, coats, cloaks, nightgowns, whatever you need. And hats,” he added. “Blue if you wish.”

  “Thank you,” she said with a small smile.

  “You don’t have to thank me, Gina.” Blair wanted to hear her laugh; sure the sound of her laughter would light up the world.

  She turned away from him and looked across the park to where a small boy leaned over the water, attempting to feed bread to the swans.

  Suddenly, the boy fell into the water with a splash. Gina jumped up. She raced across the grass holding her skirts high, showing red flannel petticoats and striped stockings beneath the black dress. Surprised, Blair ran after her. He reached the water as Gina waded in and pulled the little boy out, before his nanny had noticed he was in trouble. Gina swung him up on her hip and went to place him in his nanny’s care.

  He smiled as Gina gave the nanny a talking to.

  As the nanny walked off, scolding her charge, he strolled over to where Gina sat on a bench emptying water from her boots. “That was a fine thing you did.”

  “It was nothing.”

  “But you’re wet.”

  She finished lacing up her boot and stood. “It doesn’t matter; I’ll go straight home.”

  He took her arm. “We’ve hardly talked about our arrangement.”

  “There’s nothing more to be said. I have agreed to it.” She looked away. “I’ll catch an omnibus on the corner.”

  “Allow me to take you home.”

  “No, no. The bus will be here in a minute. I’ll see you on Friday.”

  “At two o’clock,” he called after her, as she ran across the road.

  Blair raked his fingers through his hair. Gina was hardly the passionate paramour. There were plenty of women eager to climb into his bed, plenty who hung on his every word. Why had he chosen this one? He had no answer for his behavior and indeed, shied away from examining himself too closely.

  * * *

  As the horse-drawn omnibus rolled down the street, Gina found a place on the bench seat, and waited for her heart to quiet. When she closed her eyes she saw his face, the humor lurking in his blue eyes, her pulse thudded furiously again. She had always known of the strong passion within her. But not until she’d met Blair, had she ever felt like this. All of a sudden, she wanted so much from life that it frightened her.

  At her stop, she cautiously approached her house, searching the people in the street. She hurried up the steps, worried that the earl might appear from a shadowy corner, even after she locked her door.

  The next morning, she made her way to the Alhambra Music Hall in Leicester Square to see Mabel.

  The white, Moorish-styled building looked as if it had been plucked from an exotic, far eastern city. In the foyer, Gina stopped to look at a picture of Mabel astride a horse. A country girl, she was a talented horsewoman and had been made the star of the equestrian ballet.

  “Well, ducks, tell me what happened,” Mabel asked when Gina located her in her new dressing room.

  “I’m to be his mistress, Mabel. Starting tomorrow. I’m not sure what that means. I know my mother would be very angry, but I’m frightened, there’s this man who’s after me. I have to get away.”

  Mabel sat at her mirror applying stage makeup. “It’s the best thing for you, ducks. You’ve had a bad trot.” She threw the rabbit’s foot down and jumped up. “I’ve got something for you. And a few tips.” She handed Gina a bag. “Those cost me a pretty penny, they did. But you’re worth it. Now sit down while I finish getting dressed. I have a lot to tell you. Things your Mamma never would have, and should have, if you ask me. So listen hard.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  As the coachman piled her few belongings into the hansom, Gina searched the busy street for Lord Ogilvie, but found no sign of him. She breathed a sigh of relief. He couldn’t find her again, as she would never return. Blair’s strong and reassuring hand held her elbow, as he assisted her up the step.

  As the carriage left the shabby streets behind, her fears left her, replaced by excitement and apprehension that gripped her stomach in both a painful and pleasurable way.

  As Blair told her about the apartment he had leased for her, she watched him covertly from beneath the rim of her bonnet. She wanted him to kiss her cheek, to squeeze her hand, but he seemed business-like today, and a little remote.

  In Bond Street, Blair escorted Gina from one expensive store to the next. He placed her in the hands of the woman behind the counter and withdrew to smoke a cigar and read the paper.

  The saleslady consulted him about every item Gina chose. The hours passed and the pile of purchases grew. Two morning gowns, two tea gowns, a silk evening gown, and a beautiful ball gown, a wool coat, chemises, bloomers, shoes, slippers and a hat. Blair gave a nod to some items and refused others. She was never to wear that sallow shade of green, he instructed. Gina blushed and glanced at the attendant’s face when Blair chose her nightgowns and negligées, but the sales lady remained poker-faced.

  “You should allow me to choose these,” Gina said fiercely under her breath to him.

  “Why?”

  “It’s a very personal thing.”

  “But it is for me to enjoy, is it not?” he asked with a smile.

  When he smiled at her an unfamiliar craving tightened her stomach, along with the ever present feeling of shame.

  Blair took Gina to lunch at Duke’s Hotel in St James’ Place. She drank two glasses of golden wine from a crystal goblet and picked at morsels of venison.

  “Aren’t you hungry?” he asked. He’d eaten very little himself.

  She shook her head. “I’m too excited.”

  He smiled like an indulgent father. “You’ve never been here before?”

  “Never,” she said breathlessly looking around at the marble and the mirrors. She turned back to gaze shyly at him. “I suppose you come here often.”

  “Occasionally.”

  How little she knew about this man who was now a big part of her future. That thought made her shiver with excitement, but a small measure of disappointment lodged in her mind too.

  She’d been determined to make her own way in the world, not just for herself, but to know that Milo and her mother would be proud of her. She was after all, one of the new generation of women with more freedom than her mother ever dreamed
of. She took a deep breath. Already a little in love with Blair, she longed to stroke his dark hair and see him smile down at her with adoration in his eyes. So at home in this world, he moved through it with confidence and grace. But she realized with shock, that she was still a member of that other, demi-world, and now would always be.

  Late in the afternoon, after they’d covered every aspect of Gina’s wardrobe including shoes, wide-brimmed hats and jewelry, they drove to Hanover Square.

  In the square the imposing, well-appointed houses faced onto a lovely park.

  When the coachman pulled up the carriage, Gina stared up at a three-story red-brick building with a white balustrade, which was to be her home. She climbed from the carriage, as her knees shook and her stomach continued to do somersaults.

  The attic she’d shared with Milo would fit into the three-story apartment thirty times or more. She wandered around the elegant suite of rooms furnished in gold, rosy pinks and browns, marveling at the rich brocade curtains, gilded chairs and tapestry covered sofas. A dish of roses of every hue sat on a gilt-edged, round table. A lovely, hand-painted screen stood in one corner.

  Mirrors and paintings in heavy, ornate gilt frames that decorated the burgundy-papered walls, made her think of Milo.

  A cord of guilt tightened within her. She told herself it was Lord Ogilvie who had driven her to this, but he now seemed a shadowy figure from her past. Questions crowded her mind. Had she chosen to come here because she couldn’t resist Blair Dunleavy? Might there have been another course of action open to her? One that offered her a more respectable life? She rubbed her arms, suddenly cold. Was she about to relive her mother’s life? And what did fate have in store for her?

  While Blair conferred with his staff below stairs, Gina went to the window which overlooked the square. It was hard to believe they were in the middle of a big, bustling city. The park was like a green jewel with fine trees, lawns, flowerbeds, benches and statuary. In the far corner of the square stood a fine church, its spire highlighted against the sky. It was every bit as beautiful here as Holland Park. She drew in a breath and wished she was calmer so she might enjoy it.

  The butler and the porter appeared, carrying boxes and packages into the bedchamber.

  Gina followed them inside. She approached the big bed, all satins and golds and lifted the bedcover, to find bedlinens as pure a white as an early snowfall. Somehow, the comparison disturbed her. She withdrew the package Mabel had given her from her purse and tucked it among the others. Her cheeks heated as she remembered Mabel’s detailed instructions.

  Gina opened the parcels, undoing ribbons and strings and spreading the pretty things Blair had bought her over the bed. She extracted a wonderfully soft, sable muff and brushed it against her cheek. She rose and held up the delicate, taupe mousselaine de soie evening gown, trimmed with guipure lace, against herself, studying her reflection in the full-length mirror. The gown was from Paris and must have been expensive, but Blair merely nodded his assent to the purchase. She lay the gown down carefully and picked up a delicate, cream negligee and lace nightgown, so sheer, she could see her hand through the material.

  Would Blair want to do to her those things that Mabel had told her men liked? Would he expect her to respond the way Mabel said? The thought made Gina excited and horribly embarrassed. Would he wait until night-time? Even though she was nervous about stripping naked in front of him in broad daylight, she still yearned to throw her arms around his neck and kiss him, and listened for his step outside the door.

  She started when Blair knocked. “May I come in?” He came in before she answered, and picked up the evening gown lying on the bed. “I’ll take you to the opera when the season begins.” He smiled. “Are you pleased with your new hat?”

  “Oh yes.” She turned to the parcels on the bed and opened the big, round striped hatbox, carefully removing the hat from its bed of tissue paper. She touched the soft, blue feathers stroking the opulent velvet. Not the blue she wanted, Blair had insisted that wasn’t her color. This was a deep, lustrous royal blue that matched the trim on one of her gowns.

  “Put it on.”

  She set it squarely on her head. “Not like that.” He came and adjusted it, angling it slightly over her face. He was so close, she could smell his clean, musky fragrance.

  She held her breath and studied his embroidered waistcoat and his gold watch chain, wondering how his body would look and feel, without clothes. When he tilted her chin to examine the hat, her eyes sought his, but he turned away to look in the mirror. “Perfect.” He stepped back. “See for yourself.”

  She turned to look. Surely, that woman in the expensive hat was not her?

  “Do you like it?”

  “I love it,” she said warm with gratitude.

  Blair bowed. “I have to go out, Gina. I’ll see you at dinner. We’ll dine here, shall we?”

  Relief mixed with disappointment made her uncertain of her feelings. She didn’t want to be alone. If they could just sit and talk. “Very well.”

  “You have a maid. Her name is Mary. If you require her, ring the bell. Make full use of her. I believe she’s very good with hair.” He nodded approvingly at the hat again and left the room.

  Gina sank down among the packages. She would try her best to be everything he wished tonight, equipped with the knowledge that Mabel had imparted. A quiver of anticipation traveled down her spine. The thought of doing those things with Blair caused a warm glow to spread down low in her stomach. She rolled over on the bed with a guilty, excited laugh.

  “Did you call me, Madam?” Mary’s polite voice came from the next room.

  “Oh? No, thank you, Mary,” Gina called flushing scarlet.

  * * *

  Blair strode into the bar and sat down beside Horace. “Well, it’s done,” he said.

  Horace ordered another glass of wine from the waiter. He looked at Blair. “So, you’ve bedded her then.”

  Blair shook his head. “No. She’s now ensconced in the apartment. I’m returning to dine there.”

  Horace raised sandy brows. “You had her there alone and willing, and you didn’t make the beast with two backs?”

  Blair grimaced at Horace’s unromantic quoting of Shakespeare. “No. To tell the truth I’m a bit perturbed. I suspect Gina might be an innocent.”

  “An artist’s model and a music hall dancer? I don’t think so.”

  “I guess not, but….”

  Horace laughed. “She’s an actress. You should be grateful. It all helps with the mood.”

  “At one stage I did judge her to be decent,” Blair said thoughtfully.

  “Decent girls don’t shed their clothes for a painter.”

  “Russo was her step-father.”

  “Decent girls don’t work at the Folly. And they don’t become mistresses.”

  Blair took the glass of wine from the waiter. “You’re probably right.” He shook his head as if to clear it. “But she’s so sweet.”

  “Sweet? You wouldn’t be foolish enough to fall in love with this painted lady would you?”

  “No,” Blair said uneasily. He only knew he wanted Gina at any cost.

  Horace clinked his glass against Blair’s. “To your night of love-making, whether it be a night of instruction in its fine arts or a night of combined experience, matters not, my friend.”

  Blair gazed into his glass and took a deep drink.

  “I’d get back there soon if I were you,” Horace said. “It will be a great shame if you don’t remember the experience.”

  Blair laughed. “Thanks for the advice, Horace.” But he was surprised to find he needed a bit of Dutch courage. Something quite new to him.

  An hour later, Blair returned to the apartment to find the gaslights turned low. The crystal glassware and the silverware glowed in the light of a guttering branch of candles. Now past nine o’clock, he was aware that the servants hovered, waiting to serve dinner. He had drunk more than he intended, but still felt clear-headed and nowher
e near in his cups.

  At his entrance, the door to the bedchamber opened. He halted half-way across the room as a cool, elegant woman emerged, wearing a peach satin gown with a beaded, low-cut bodice, her golden-blonde hair curled around her brow, the rest drawn into a fashionable knot. The pearl earrings he’d bought her, with the promise of something finer, dangled from her ears. The lively girl in the cheap gown had vanished and in her place stood a self-assured young woman.

  “Gina.” Blair nodded taken aback. He had transformed her from a passionate firebrand of a girl into a woman like one of his own class, seemingly cool and untouchable. When he removed the expensive clothes, would the Gina he found so charming emerge?

  “Good evening, Blair.”

  His thoughts continued to their logical conclusion. Gina, lying naked on his bed. “You look lovely tonight,” he said, his voice tight.

  “Thank you. May we have dinner now? I’m very hungry.”

  “Of course. You would not be used to dining so late. I do apologize.” He rang the bell.

  At the first ring, the butler entered and the first course was served.

  Gina picked up her spoon and began to eat. “Did you have a pleasant evening?” she asked politely.

  “I did. And you?”

  “Very nice, thank you. I unpacked.”

  “You have a maid for that, Gina.”

  “I enjoy housework. I can unpack for you, if you’d like.”

  “I won’t keep much here. I have my own house, as you know.”

  “Oh.”

  “I suppose you enjoy needlework?” he asked wondering what she would do when he was gone.

  “Bah!”

  Blair couldn’t help smiling. “I take it that means no?”

  Gina’s breasts bounced invitingly with her sharp intake of breath. “I sew because I cannot afford store-bought clothes. Not because I like it. There are much better things to do.”

  “I’m sure there are,” Blair said in a conciliatory tone.

  This is nice, what is it?”