Gallant Officer, Forbidden Lady

by Diane Gaston

Ullman lifted his hat. ‘Good day to you, Miss Blane.’

  As Tranville walked away with Ariana, she turned and gave Jack an approving smile.

  Jack gestured towards his mother’s door. ‘Come inside,’ he said to Ullman.

  Wilson took their things, and Jack ushered Ullman into the drawing room. The man looked eager and nervous, more like a fifteen-year-old at his first ball than an earl of mature years.

  Ullman was a portly man whose face was the sort that would sport jowls in ten years. Jack imagined he would shrink with age until Nancy towered over him. It sickened Jack to think of Nancy with such a man.

  Ullman glanced at Nancy’s portrait, which hung on the drawing-room wall. ‘So lovely.’ A thought seemed to occur to him. ‘Did you paint that?’ He sounded surprised.

  Jack felt the insult even though Ullman seemed oblivious of having made it. ‘Yes. An early work of mine.’

  Ullman walked over to the portrait and examined it closer. ‘Upon my word. It is good.’

  This was not making Jack like him any better.

  ‘Please sit, sir.’ Jack did not know how much time he had before Nancy and his mother walked in. ‘And tell me of this interest in my sister.’

  A beatific expression appeared on Ullman’s face. ‘I cannot explain it. That day in the Egyptian Hall when I saw her it was as if I had seen an angel. I could not get her out of my mind. I confess I dared not hope to see her again until I remembered the—the—the connection between your family and Lord Tranville, so I began discussing with him how to proceed.’

  Jack looked him in the eye. ‘I wonder that you did not seek me out for that discussion.’

  Ullman turned red. ‘I—I—I—Tranville acted in your stead, he told me.’

  Jack merely nodded. There was no use to travel that road one more time, not when Nancy intended to accept the man.

  He did, however, skewer the man with a pointed gaze. ‘Tranville vouches for your character, but bear in mind if you mistreat my sister in any manner, you will answer to me.’

  Ullman’s eyes grew fearful.

  Jack added, ‘I spent ten years in the army. I am able to defend my sister in countless ways.’

  Ullman nodded vigorously.

  At that moment Jack’s mother entered the room, and the two men stood.

  ‘Lord Ullman, how nice to see you again.’ She glanced around the room. ‘Lionel did not come with you?’

  ‘He will be here shortly, Mother.’ Jack said, his tone clipped.

  ‘I have asked Wilson to bring tea,’ Jack’s mother told Ullman.

  Wilson served the tea, and while Jack’s mother poured, the three of them engaged in a conversation that thoroughly covered the weather, past, present and to come. Jack was almost grateful when Tranville finally did walk in.

  Jack’s mother greeted him with cool politeness, a contrast to his spirits, which seemed inordinately high.

  Into the already tense atmosphere walked Nancy, pale as paste, dark circles smudging her eyes. Jack wanted to whisk her out of the room.

  ‘I am so sorry to keep everyone waiting.’ Her voice was no more than a whisper.

  Jack glanced over at her portrait. The contrast was so striking it might not be the same person. Gone was the innocence, the eager hopefulness, the sheer excitement of being alive, the essence of Nancy that Ariana insisted he had captured in the image, the very qualities of the painting that had led Ariana to speak to him that first day.

  Ullman stepped over to her, taking her hand and leading her to a chair. ‘Miss Vernon, the wait was a trifle when the reward is seeing you.’

  Nancy indeed looked as if she needed assistance to cross the room.

  ‘Well, well.’ Tranville clasped his hands together. ‘I believe we should leave Nancy and Lord Ullman alone for a time. They have matters to discuss.’

  Jack forgot to care that Tranville was managing things. His concern was for his sister.

  ‘Nancy—’

  Her gaze met Jack’s and she shook her head very slightly.

  Tranville and his mother were almost to the door. Tranville turned. ‘Come, Jack.’

  Jack leaned down under the pretence of kissing his sister. He whispered in her ear, ‘You do not have to do this.’

  But her eyes were filled with resignation.

  He tried again. ‘I can take care of you and Mother—’

  She shook her head and waved him away.

  ‘Listen to me—’

  ‘No, Jack,’ she whispered angrily.

  ‘Jack?’ his mother called.

  He reluctantly left the room.

  In the hall, his mother said, ‘We can wait in my sitting room.’

  The room was off her bedchamber. Tranville walked in and went directly to a cabinet, producing a bottle of port and a glass.

  ‘Would you like a glass, my dear?’ he asked her.

  She shook her head and turned away from him.

  ‘Jack?’ Tranville lifted the bottle.

  Jack would welcome some drink, but not his mother’s port at Tranville’s invitation. ‘I think not.’

  Jack’s mother sat and picked up some sewing.

  Tranville pulled some papers from the inside pocket of his coat. ‘Do you wish to read the settlement, Mary?’

  She shook her head. ‘Jack, will you read it and let me know if it is adequate?’

  He read it through. Twice.

  The document appeared thorough and detailed, every possibility addressed, all to the advantage of his sister.

  ‘It appears to be in order.’ He folded it up again and placed it on the table.

  Tranville gave him a smug look.

  ‘She will be secure for life?’ his mother asked.

  ‘She will,’ Jack was forced to agree. Ullman could give Nancy more than Jack could ever dream of doing.

  ‘Should I sign it, then?’ she asked.

  ‘Wait.’ Perhaps Nancy would not go through with it.

  They waited in silence, except for Tranville’s tuneless humming, which nearly drove Jack mad.

  Finally a mournful-looking Wilson came to the door. ‘Miss Nancy says you may return to the drawing room.’

  Tranville snatched up the settlement papers and they all headed for the drawing room.

  When they walked in, Nancy turned to them, her eyes glistening with tears. ‘Mama,’ she said in a weak voice, ‘you may wish me happy.’

  Chapter Fifteen

  That evening Tranville patted the pocket of his coat, feeling the velvet box inside. He smiled to himself. He’d intended this event to take place later, but seeing Ariana that afternoon had persuaded him that there was no need to delay.

  He’d waited long enough. Playing it cool with her had not worked at all. Ariana had seemed perfectly content without his attentions.

  His plan had been to wait until her portrait was complete, at which time he would formally make it his gift to her, but Jack was dawdling. Tranville decided not to wait even two more weeks. The time was now.

  Tranville crossed the foyer of the theatre. He was early and only a few people had arrived for the evening’s performance. Ullman was supposed to meet him here.

  Ullman was a good sort, well-humoured and harmless. At least Ullman had been the spur for Tranville’s renewed campaign. He felt like clapping his hands in delight.

  Tranville made his way to his box. He would not show himself backstage. Better he approach Ariana later, in the Green Room. All he required was to be private with her.

  He glanced around the theatre, at the lavish gilt, the rich red curtains, tier after tier of boxes. He imagined the theatre filled with three thousand people, all applauding Ariana in her role as Cleopatra. He imagined being congratulated in the Green Room afterwards, complimented on his foresight regarding London’s newest sensation. He even imagined Kean approaching him to thank him for the opportunity to perform with her.

  Everyone would know she belonged to him.

  Ullman entered the box with a furrowed brow. ‘Good
evening, Tranville.’

  Tranville blinked. ‘I expected you to be in raptures this evening. Do not tell me something has gone wrong with your engagement.’

  Ullman shook his head. ‘Not at all. It is just that I met Lord Darnley outside. Apparently there are considerable rumblings about the Corn Bill. He is exceedingly worried about riots.’

  Tranville waved a dismissive hand. ‘Fiddle. He is being alarmist. The people would not dare raise a commotion.’

  Ullman looked unconvinced. ‘I wonder if I ought to send Miss Vernon—I mean, my dear Nancy—to the country. She and her mother could stay at the country house. Get acquainted with the children.’

  Ullman was making this molehill of unrest into a mountain peak, Tranville thought, but it might work to his advantage to have Mary out of town.

  She was the one person who depressed his spirits with her refusal to face facts. Surely she could comprehend how his life had changed, how a vigorous man such as himself needed a young wife to beget more children. His departed wife had banned him from her bed when she’d still been capable of bearing sons. What a great disappointment his wife had been, so lacking in sensitivity.

  Mary had once perfectly understood his masculine needs, never complaining of other women in his life. She used to accept that a man of his nature needed variety. He had no idea what had turned her so sour.

  He waved the thought of Mary away and imagined Ariana dressing for the performance tonight. His loins ached.

  Soon, he promised himself. Soon he would seat himself on a chair in her dressing room and watch the tantalising process of her donning a gown.

  He clapped Ullman on the shoulder. ‘I am certain Mrs Vernon and Nancy would enjoy a visit to the country.’

  ‘Thing is,’ Ullman went on, ‘I must stay here. These matters before the Lords are too vitally important.’

  Tranville nodded in agreement, although he could not see a man like Ullman affecting the decisions that needed to be made on the Corn Bill. ‘You could send the ladies without you if it makes you feel easier.’

  Ullman rubbed his chin. ‘I am considering a special licence and marrying her right away. It would be so much better for her to go to the country as my wife.’

  At that moment Edwin entered the box. ‘Did I hear you talk of a wife? Are you marrying, Ullman?’ He sat next to his father and leaned a foot against the box’s railing. ‘Who is the lady?’

  Ullman beamed. ‘You were present when I first laid eyes upon her. I am marrying Miss Vernon.’

  ‘Nancy Vernon!’ Edwin sat up straight. ‘Good God.’

  Tranville grabbed his arm and leaned into his ear. ‘You will keep your mouth shut or I’ll cut off your quarterly portion.’

  Edwin blinked. ‘Lovely girl,’ he muttered to Ullman.

  ‘I am considering a special licence and marrying without delay.’

  Edwin gave him a lascivious look. ‘You have reason to rush?’

  Ullman began to prose on about the Corn Laws and the threats of unrest in the city. Edwin looked alarmed.

  While those two fools fretted over unrest that would never come to pass, Tranville consulted the programme in his hand, looking for Ariana’s name. The play was a comedy, The Country Girl, and Ariana had a minor part.

  He threw down the programme in disgust. She was not listed. That sort of treatment would soon change when she, not her mother, played the leading role.

  Three hours later Mr Arnold stuck his head in the dressing room. ‘Ladies, time to make your appearances in the Green Room. Some haste, if you please.’

  The performance had gone well, and Ariana and three of the other actresses who had walk-on parts lounged in their dressing room. The other three roused themselves at Mr Arnold’s directive, and now hurried to clean their faces of stage make-up and dress in their prettiest gowns. Ariana remained in her chair, feeling no compunction to move.

  Mr Arnold gave her a severe look. ‘Ariana, enough dallying. I expect you in the Green Room in five minutes. The gentlemen are waiting.’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ she replied.

  After he left the other girls laughed. ‘You care nothing of the waiting gentlemen, do you?’ one said to her.

  Her housemate Susan said, ‘She’s too moon-eyed over her artist.’

  Ariana smiled. ‘Can you blame me?’

  ‘He’s handsome enough, but he’ll never have as much money as Lord Tranville,’ Susan admitted. ‘I saw Tranville in his box tonight. His son was with him. I do not see why your artist dislikes the son so.’

  ‘I would heed his warnings, none the less,’ Ariana said.

  Susan nodded. ‘I will, but only because the fellow drinks too much. Are you still resolved to break the father’s heart?’

  Ariana sighed dramatically. ‘He has transferred his interest to another, I have heard.’

  ‘Well, she’s a lucky one,’ another of the actresses said. ‘I wish I could persuade him to look my way.’

  Susan laughed. ‘You have been trying that all season.’

  She was welcome to him, Ariana thought. All she wanted was to go home and crawl into her bed. The sooner she slept, the sooner morning would come and she could go to Jack and find out what had happened with Nancy.

  She dallied longer than five minutes and wound up walking to the Green Room alone.

  As soon as she entered, Tranville approached her. ‘May I speak to you, Miss Vernon?’

  She had no wish to converse with him, but Mr Arnold had taken notice of her late entrance and would not like it if she cut such an important gentleman.

  ‘Of course, sir.’ She stepped away from the doorway.

  ‘Speak with me in private,’ he said. ‘I beg you, allow me a few minutes.’

  He intended to tell her he was to be married, she thought. Foolish of him to think it would matter to her. All that mattered was his marriage would free her to be openly seen with Jack.

  ‘Very well,’ she responded.

  She thought they would speak directly outside the room but he brought her back into the theatre, leading her into his box. There were still some candles burning there, but the light was dim.

  He bade her sit down.

  To her surprise, he dropped to his knees and pulled something from beneath his coat.

  A velvet box.

  ‘This is a gift for you.’ He placed it in her hands.

  She felt a surge of anxiety. ‘You must not—’

  He put his hand over hers, his face inches away. ‘Open it,’ he demanded. He felt dangerous at that moment. As Jack had warned her he could be.

  She opened the box.

  Inside was a bracelet, sparkling with diamonds and emeralds.

  She gasped. ‘This is not for me.’ He was merely showing it to her, for her opinion perhaps.

  ‘It most certainly is for you.’ He lifted it out of the box. ‘See? It matches your eyes.’

  She pushed his hand away. ‘I do not accept gifts.’ He knew that. ‘My position is unchanged on the matter.’ She stood.

  He seized her wrist and made her sit again. ‘You misunderstand me. This is a mere sample of what I am able to give to you.’

  ‘I want nothing from you.’

  He tossed the bracelet aside and grasped her other hand. ‘Let me explain.’ He paused as if searching for words. ‘Ullman made me think of it.’

  Ullman?

  He peered directly into her eyes. ‘I am not asking you to be my mistress. I am proposing marriage.’

  ‘Marriage!’ she cried.

  ‘Marriage.’ He nodded. ‘Do me the honour of being my wife, becoming my baroness.’

  Her stomach turned. She was the woman he planned to marry, the woman for whom he would cut off Jack’s mother’s allowance.

  She grasped at straws. ‘You cannot marry an actress.’

  He laughed and patted her hand. ‘Why not? Did not Elizabeth Farren marry Lord Derby?’

  Ariana remembered being told that the actress-turned-countess, Elizabeth Farren, had bounced
her on her knee when she’d been three years old. ‘No matter. I cannot.’

  His voice dropped and his eyes grew flinty. ‘Has Jack spoken against me?’

  ‘Jack?’ His manner alarmed her.

  He held her hand so tightly it hurt. ‘He turned you against me, did he? I swear I’ll ruin him.’

  He must not blame Jack. Her mind raced. She had to remedy this.

  She put on an indignant expression. ‘This does not involve my portrait artist, sir. It involves me. My acting career.’

  He loosened his grip. ‘Do not fear. You shall have your chance on stage. You will be a sensation in Antony and Cleopatra. I would not deprive you of that moment of glory.’

  ‘And afterwards?’ She already knew the answer. A baroness did not appear on stage.

  He laughed. ‘As my baroness, you will be far too busy with important matters to think about the theatre. We shall become a powerful force in London. You for your beauty, and me for my influence. You will hold grand balls and be hostess at important political dinners. We can travel. To Paris. To Naples. To Vienna.’

  It sounded like death to her. One whole night with Jack would be worth more than a lifetime with this man, and Jack was the only man she knew for whom she would consider giving up the stage.

  She took a deep breath. ‘Lord Tranville, you, indeed, do me an honour. I must consider your proposal very carefully.’

  ‘You cannot say yes?’ His brows rose.

  She needed to tread carefully. ‘Not an immediate yes.’

  He released her. ‘I will take that as a yes.’

  ‘Please do not. But I shall consider your offer in all seriousness.’

  ‘I do not see any reason for delay.’ He spread out his hands. ‘I can give you the world.’

  She moved away. ‘You would not wish me to say an impulsive no, would you? Giving up the stage is no trifling matter to me.’ She must consider a way out of this, a way to make him not want her. ‘I must be certain.’

  ‘You will not miss being an actress. How can I convince you?’ He grabbed her in his arms and kissed her.

  If he thought his kiss would convince her, he was mistaken. It almost made her gag.

  She pushed him away and spoke sharply, ‘If you take liberties with me, sir, I shall not believe your intent is honourable. I will not be tricked into a liaison.’