Gallant Officer, Forbidden Lady

by Diane Gaston

  She had to pretend not to be affected. ‘Now you are being ridiculous. You are the one who decided to attach yourself to me. I am an actress and I shall always behave like an actress. This painting is perfect for me. It will interest people in coming to see my performances. They will talk of me and write about me, as they did my mother in her grandest days. That is what I want.’

  ‘Are you trying to flummox me?’ He advanced closer. ‘Because if you are, I will not be pleased.’

  She put her acting skill into play. ‘I am not flummoxing you, Lord Tranville. This is the portrait of Cleopatra that will catapult me into fame. I shall be London’s latest sensation—’

  ‘This is Jack’s doing,’ he muttered. He pointed to the portrait. ‘He convinced you to pose for this. He told you that nonsense about success.’

  She stared him down. ‘Of course he did not. It was solely my idea—’

  He peered into her face. ‘I have no doubt Jack made you think so. He wants to make me look like a fool.’

  ‘How can my portrait make you look like a fool?’ She made her voice incredulous, even though she wanted the portrait to do precisely that.

  ‘Because it is no secret that I am determined to make you my wife,’ he shot back. ‘And no wife of mine will pose in the nude.’

  Ariana lifted her chin. ‘I have not accepted you, Lord Tranville.’

  He glared at her. ‘But you will. Because I will see you never work on the London stage again if you do not marry me.’

  She put her hands on her hips. ‘You cannot scare me, sir! There are other theatres. If I am a sensation elsewhere, you can hardly stop me from returning to London.’

  ‘Consider this, then.’ His voice was deceptively mild. ‘If you do not agree to marry me, I will ruin Jack. I will make certain he never paints again. Do not doubt I can do that.’

  She did not let her gaze waver, but inside she wanted to scream in protest.

  He straightened. ‘Furthermore, I will prevent his sister from marrying Ullman. I arranged that betrothal and I can undo it—’

  That was no threat.

  Droplets of spittle spewed out from his mouth. ‘Jack’s mother has been dependent upon my generosity since her husband died. I will withdraw my financial support from her. Jack will be forced back into the army, and I’ll have him sent to the West Indies where he will likely die of the fever. His mother and sister will wind up in the poor house—’

  Ariana wanted to weep, but, none the less, she held up her hand in defiance. ‘I do not see how this affects me.’

  He leaned into her face with a dangerous look. ‘Mark my words, I will do it! Unless you get rid of that painting and marry me, I will exact my revenge upon Jack and his family as well as on you.’

  She made herself give him a sarcastic expression. ‘You will cause those people unspeakable suffering unless I agree to marry you and destroy the portrait?’ She threw her head back and laughed, covering her growing despair. ‘How very lover-like of you, my lord.’

  The door suddenly opened. Ariana looked up to see Jack staring at her in angry surprise. His sister stood behind him.

  ‘What are you doing in my studio?’ he asked.

  What could get worse? ‘Why, hello, Jack.’ She forced a cheerful voice. ‘I am showing Tranville my portrait.’

  He removed his coat and hat and walked towards her, looking precisely like a stalking cat. ‘You did not have my permission to be here or to show my work.’

  She waved a dismissive hand. ‘Oh, but it is my portrait. I used my key to enter.’

  ‘I gave you the key for my convenience, not yours.’ His eyes shot daggers at her.

  Tranville bustled over. ‘See here, Jack. You ought to be flogged for painting this portrait of Ariana. I’ll not have it. I’ll have none of it.’

  ‘Why, what is wrong with it?’ He walked around to the other side of the easel and gave Tranville a defiant glare. ‘It is my best work.’

  Nancy walked over, darting a quick glance to Ariana. ‘Let me see.’

  Her eyes widened.

  Ariana’s misery grew. All she’d strived for was falling into tatters at her feet. She was desperate to mend things. She walked over to the canvas against the wall and turned it around. ‘This is the portrait Jack wanted. I insisted on the other one.’

  Her pose was the same, but no pink skin showed beneath the gown. Gone was the seduction in her expression, replaced by a blank face.

  ‘That is more like it.’ Tranville nodded in approval.

  Ariana wanted to protest. This portrait was leached of all life and emotion. All love.

  Tranville looked relieved. ‘Well, well, I am very pleased with this one. Very pleased, indeed.’ He levelled a stern look at Jack. ‘But you must answer to taking liberties in creating the other portrait. You led this young lady into a scandalous position.’

  Jack pointed to the portrait on the easel. ‘This is the better painting.’

  Ariana felt a pang inside as he defended his work.

  Tranville raised his chin. ‘You allowed Miss Blane to pose for you like this.’

  Jack’s jaw flexed. ‘She did not.’ He pointed to the other portrait. ‘She posed like that. The other is my contrivance.’

  Ariana felt tears sting her eyes. She was trying to protect Jack, and Jack was trying to protect her.

  Tranville glanced towards Ariana. ‘Why did you tell me it was your idea?’

  ‘It is the portrait I want to show the world,’ she said.

  ‘Nonsense,’ Tranville barked. ‘It will be destroyed. See to it, Jack. The one against the wall goes to the engraver. When will it be ready?’

  ‘A few days,’ Jack replied.

  ‘Send word and I’ll have it picked up,’ Tranville made a signal with his fingers, the sort gentlemen make when ordering servants about.

  Jack looked him in the eye. ‘You owe me for two paintings. Pay my money or you will get nothing.’

  Tranville made a wheezing laugh. ‘You will be paid, but I want a new copy made.’ He started to walk to the door, but stopped halfway and barked at Nancy, ‘Did you accept Ullman’s invitation to the theatre?’

  ‘Yes,’ she replied.

  ‘And your mother and brother will also attend?’

  ‘Yes. He invited all of us.’ She looked puzzled.

  Tranville smiled. ‘Excellent! Miss Blane and I will be sharing the box. She does not perform tonight.’ He gave her a significant look. ‘Come, my dear.’

  His voice alone made her skin crawl.

  She cast a glance at Jack, who returned one of anger and injury. She could not blame him. If she stayed to explain to him why she’d brought Tranville here, she would make matters even worse. Her only choice to preserve the illusion that Jack was merely an artist doing her bidding was to leave with Tranville. She believed Tranville’s threat and intended to do everything in her power to keep Jack and his family safe from his wrath. If she only knew what to do.

  Before she walked out of the door with Tranville she sent Jack one more look, pleading for understanding and begging his forgiveness. He simply turned away.

  On the street, Tranville said, ‘My coachman was told to circle round. He should be here soon.’

  She started off. ‘I will walk.’

  He seized her arm. ‘We have more to discuss.’

  Once in the carriage, he reached into his coat pocket and took out the velvet box containing the bracelet. ‘I expect you to wear this tonight.’

  She pushed it away. ‘I’ve not accepted your invitation to the theatre or your proposal of marriage, sir.’

  He handed it back to her. ‘Take it. You will go tonight or I will carry out the ruin of your friends. I have no doubt that will influence your decision.’ If this were a play she would have said he paused for dramatic effect. ‘And you will accept my proposal of marriage.’

  Dear God. What was she to do? She accepted the bracelet. ‘I will take it as long as it does not obligate me.’

  He laughed
, a diabolical sound. ‘It is not the bracelet that obligates you.’

  Jack sat with his head in his hands. He’d considered the portrait a private matter between him and Ariana, not to be shared with anyone, least of all Tranville. Showing Tranville the painting had been like inviting him into their bedchamber.

  Jack burned inside. She had betrayed him in the deepest way, using his art to achieve her ends. She wanted the scandal that painting would create. She wanted people to talk about her and to come to the theatre to see her. Had she really thought that Tranville would go along with her plan?

  All Jack had wanted was for the people he loved to be happy. He shook his head. That was not true. He wanted to paint and he wanted people to admire his paintings as Ariana had done that first day he’d met her. She was not the only one with ambition. His ambition had led to the portrait as well as hers.

  He heard Nancy walk back to the easel. ‘Jack, you never even hinted about this painting. Why did you keep it such a secret?’

  He rose and joined her. ‘Is it not obvious?’

  She took a step back and regarded the painting again. ‘It is obvious she posed for this.’

  He nodded. ‘I thought it best not to admit that to Tranville. I never meant it as the final portrait.’

  ‘But it is marvellous.’ Her voice was awed. She transferred her gaze to the other one. ‘This is not as good.’

  He rubbed his face. ‘Nancy, you ought to be scandalised.’

  She returned a world-weary look. ‘You forget that we grew up in scandal.’

  He’d once hoped he could keep the scandal from touching her, his dear little sister. Now look what hand life had dealt her.

  He ached for her. ‘Nancy, one more scandal will not kill us. You can still refuse Ullman—’

  She turned her head away. ‘Speak no more of it. My mind is made up.’

  ‘But—’

  She swung back at him, eyes flashing. ‘Do not tease me more! I am going to marry Ullman and there is nothing more to say on it.’ She turned back to the portrait, as if doing so shut the door on the topic. ‘Do you know why I like this one better?’

  He shook his head.

  ‘You—’ Her voice cracked. ‘You poured your love for her in it.’

  His heart broke for her. ‘Nancy—’

  She shook her head, but smiled sadly. ‘We are talking of you now, Jack. You cannot deny that you love her, not with this evidence before me.’

  He also could not admit it, not without putting even more unhappiness on Nancy’s shoulders. ‘It is a painting, Nancy.’

  She walked over and sat beside him, holding both his hands, and looking into his eyes. ‘Do something for me, dear brother. Do not deny that you love Ariana, and if you have pretended not to love her, you must tell her of your true feelings.’ She shook his hands. ‘You must.’

  ‘It is complicated,’ he protested.

  She laughed, but it was a depressing sound. ‘I am beginning to think all love is complicated.’

  Chapter Eighteen

  Ariana sat unhappily in the theatre box, Tranville triumphantly at her side, his son with him. She despised them both.

  ‘This is a cruelty, sir,’ she whispered to him. ‘I was given to believe you had a fondness for Mrs Vernon.’

  He looked surprised. ‘I am fond of her. Exceedingly fond. That is why I included them in this invitation.’

  She had difficulty believing her ears. ‘Do you not think it painful for her to be forced into my company?’

  He continued to look baffled. ‘I do not see why it should. Mary understands that I must marry.’ He waved a hand. ‘Mary is a good sort. She has always understood me.’

  She shook her head. ‘And you would repay her good nature by cutting off her money and sending her to the poor house?’

  His expression lost all affability. ‘That would be at your hands, my dear. Yours and Jack’s. The two of you decide that matter.’

  ‘I do not understand why we must sit with any of the Vernons,’ Edwin complained.

  She turned her head away.

  The door to the box opened. Nancy was the first to enter, followed by a very handsome woman Ariana guessed at once was her mother.

  ‘Lawd, here they come,’ Edwin Tranville muttered.

  Lord Ullman entered after the ladies. ‘This will be a delightful evening!’ he exclaimed. ‘A theatre party.’

  Nancy brought her mother over to Ariana, just as Ariana glimpsed Jack entering the box and remaining inside the door.

  ‘Mama,’ Nancy began. ‘May I present to you—’

  Tranville took Ariana’s arm and pulled her closer to him. ‘My dear Ariana, allow me to present to you Mrs Vernon, who I understand you have not met.’ He turned to Jack’s mother. ‘Mary, this is Ariana Blane, my intended bride.’

  Ariana felt her cheeks burn with anger on Jack’s mother’s behalf. She curtsied. ‘Mrs Vernon, it is I who should be presented to you.’ She glared at Tranville. ‘And Lord Tranville misleads you. I have not accepted his suit.’

  ‘She will accept me, Mary. I have every confidence,’ Tranville said smoothly.

  Poor Mary Vernon looked ashen. ‘It is good to meet you.’

  It struck Ariana too late that she had inflicted additional injury on Mrs Vernon. How much worse it must feel to be thrown over for a woman who refused Tranville than for one who’d accepted him.

  Tranville took no notice of Mrs Vernon’s distress. He gestured to a table at the back of the box. ‘Jack, pour us all some champagne. We shall make this evening a celebration.’

  Jack glowered at him. Ariana could see that every muscle in his body protested against doing something Tranville requested of him.

  Mrs Vernon started to sit in one of the back seats.

  ‘Please sit in front, ma’am,’ Ariana said to her. ‘You will have a much better view of the performance, which, I assure you, I do not require.’ If Tranville had not had her pulled from her very minor part in the play, Ariana would have been on stage. Besides, the very least she could do for this poor woman was prevent her from having to witness Tranville fawning over his intended bride.

  Ullman ushered Nancy to another chair in front. ‘You may sit between your mother and me, my dear. Would you like that?’

  ‘Thank you,’ Nancy said in a flat voice.

  Jack silently handed glasses of champagne all around.

  Tranville lifted his in the air. ‘I propose a toast to our betrothed couple. May you always have wedded bliss.’ He turned to Jack. ‘To the beautiful portrait of Ariana.’ Next he raised his glass to Ariana. ‘To the portrait’s subject, as well, and to the future I am certain she will embrace.’

  Edwin gave a dry laugh. ‘We all need to drink after that toast.’ He downed the entire contents of his glass in one gulp.

  Ariana took the smallest sip. Never had a drink tasted so sour, although it was fine French champagne. She glanced at Jack, who never put the glass to his lips.

  It was a relief when the play began, although Jack sat behind her she was acutely aware of every shift in his posture, every nuance of his breathing. He’d said nothing to any of them, yet he was the only one she wished to speak to. With Tranville at her side there was little chance of that.

  Nancy sat stiff and unmoving in her seat. She reminded Ariana of a porcelain doll with blank eyes and an expressionless face. She imagined Ullman having to move her arms and legs to change her position. It was a heartbreaking contrast to the girl who laughed with her Michael. That Nancy had been the young beauty Jack had painted in the portrait at the Royal Exhibition, the portrait that first gave Ariana the excuse to speak to Jack.

  It seemed so long ago. She fingered the diamond-and-emerald bracelet Tranville insisted she wear. It felt as cold and lifeless as poor Nancy.

  Watching Mrs Vernon was also painful. If Nancy were a doll made of porcelain, her mother was one made of rags. It seemed remarkable that the poor woman could remain upright.

  To make matters worse, Aria
na’s mother, playing the lead part, had seen her in the box with Tranville and had given her a look that was both approving and somehow vexed. Undoubtedly Ariana’s mother would have something to say to her when next they met.

  On the pretext of adjusting her shawl, Ariana glanced back at Jack and found him staring, not at the stage, but at her. If she could say only one word to him she would feel more at ease, but her best means of protecting all of them was to treat Jack as if he did not matter in the least.

  Somehow they all endured the first half of the play, ironically a comedy. When intermission came, Ullman took Nancy out to display to his acquaintances. Edwin drank the contents of one whole bottle of champagne. Jack sat next to his mother, and Tranville forced them all to listen to him pontificate on the theatre, a subject on which he fancied himself an expert.

  During this soliloquy of Tranville’s Jack took his mother’s hand and held it. The tenderness of the gesture made Ariana want to weep.

  There was a knock on the door and servants delivered a plate of cheese and fruit and pretty pastries. Ullman and Nancy returned and Tranville urged them all to eat.

  Ullman pulled Tranville aside. ‘I have heard news of unrest—’

  Ariana took the opportunity to approach Nancy.

  ‘Use this to make yourself happy,’ she whispered. Ariana unclasped the bracelet and put it in Nancy’s palm. ‘Do not make a foolish mistake, Nancy, I beg you.’

  Nancy glanced down at her palm and up again at Ariana. At least there was some expression in her face, even though it was shock. Nancy hurriedly stuffed the bracelet into her reticule.

  Ariana took a plate of food for herself as if that had been why she had risen from her chair. She’d given Nancy the means to be with her Michael. Two years, Henry had said the bracelet could support someone. That should be all the time they’d need.

  Jack was suddenly behind her. She sensed him even before she turned to him.

  ‘Pardon me,’ he said in a stiff voice.

  ‘Jack.’ She could not disguise the yearning in her voice.

  He avoided her gaze. ‘I am here on my mother’s behalf. I would not have her or my sister endure this alone. Please step aside so I might serve my mother.’