by Bell, Julia
“Yes,” squealed Emily. “Papa’s very good at playing cricket.”
I hugged her again and then suddenly Andrew came striding through the door, his eyes lowered as if studying the floor. He stopped abruptly when he saw I had visitors.
“Andrew, Lord Shelbrook decided to come from Bath to see my performance. And he’s brought his daughter, Emily, with him.”
He smiled and came forward to bow over her hand. “How do you do, Lady Emily. Did you enjoy the show?”
“It was wonderful, sir.”
She gave a small curtsey and Brett and I exchanged amused glances. Andrew inclined his head to Brett who responded with a slight smile.
“Lord Shelbrook and his daughter have invited Danny and me to go to the park tomorrow morning and then we’re to have luncheon with them,” I told him.
Andrew nodded slowly and then stared at Emily. Then he looked at Brett and then back at Emily. A frown creased his face and his eyes darkened.
“Good,” he said. “The weather’s set to be fine. I must go, I’ve a hundred things to do.” He turned to go, but stopped to take one more look at Emily, before leaving the room.
“Andrew always has a hundred things to do,” I laughed.
“He seems a very busy man,” murmured Brett, watching his disappearance with interest.
I don’t know how I slept that night. The thought that Brett was sleeping under the same roof filled me with yearning. I wondered if he was asleep or was he tossing and turning too? Was he thinking of me, wanting me as much as I wanted him? I tried to push these thoughts from my mind and turned over, pummelling my pillow. I didn’t fall asleep until the early hours, but when I awoke, I was ready to start the day.
Danny had a room adjoining mine and he was already getting dressed when I peeped round his door.
“I’ve got something planned for this morning, dearest. Guess who came to the theatre last night for my performance?” Frowning, he shook his head. “Lord Shelbrook and Lady Emily and we’ve been invited to go to the park with them and then take luncheon.”
“Emily is here? I’d like to see her again.”
We went down to breakfast where the others were already seated round the table. We took our places and the waiter brought us a pot of tea and took our orders. A few minutes later Brett, Emily and a tall woman in a nanny’s uniform came into the dining room. Although the nanny organised Emily’s breakfast, I watched in amusement as Brett tucked the napkin in the front of his daughter’s pinafore dress.
“You seem quite fond of that little girl,” said Andrew, watching me.
“Yes, we got along famously when we met at Claythorpe. She sings, you know.”
“Does she now.”
“Of course she’s only young, but I think she has a lot of potential as an opera singer when she’s grown,” I said proudly.
He cleared his throat. “So, how old is she?”
“Eight on the twenty-fourth of this month.” The date tripped off my tongue without effort. I jerked my head in Andrew’s direction and saw his eyes narrow. “Her mother told me,” I said quickly. “We were comparing notes on bringing up children. You know how it is when we women get together, we chatter about everything.” He didn’t answer but continued eating his breakfast his eyes still on me. I felt terribly uncomfortable and directed my conversation to Martha and Miss Rupp. “Would you two ladies like to shop and sightsee this morning?”
Miss Rupp stopped buttering her toast. “Are you sure, ma’am? Danny’s lessons…”
I smiled. “I thought he could have a morning with me. In fact, we’ve been invited out and the gentleman in question has a little girl.”
“Lord Shelbrook and Lady Emily,” said Danny. He bent his head forward. “They’re sitting over there with the nanny but I won’t point because it’s rude.”
“It certainly is,” Miss Rupp scolded. She tilted her head to take a look. “Is that the little girl you were telling me about? The one who fell in the river with you?”
“We didn’t fall. Abigail knocked us in,” he answered with a grin.
We met in the foyer and I was relieved that the tall nanny had been released from her duties for the morning. We stepped out into the brilliant sunshine of that first day of June and I took Brett’s arm as the children ran ahead of us. For a short time I could almost believe that we were a family and Brett’s words echoed in my mind. I want to be with you, he had said. I love you and I’ll not live my life without you, I want you to wear my wedding band, be Viscountess Shelbrook, be a proper mother to our child and live at Standford Park. And then he had said, Your son needs a father. That would be wonderful, I thought wistfully, for my son to have a father. Someone to guide him through his growing years. And then I remembered Angelique and I shrugged the dreams from my mind. It wasn’t to be and I mustn’t think about it.
Most of the morning was spent in the park playing cricket with just a short break to a tearoom for a pot of tea and shortbread biscuits. At lunchtime we went back to the hotel to join the others for our meal.
After luncheon, Brett and Emily prepared to leave and return to Bath to join Lady Shelbrook. I felt as though my heart would break, but I smiled and nodded when Brett said we would meet again in Brighton. I watched the cab until it had disappeared from view.
As I walked back inside the desk clerk called me over and gave me a letter. It was from Nan.
Dearest Isabelle,
They’ve arrived home. Gwilym and Ruth are with us now as I write. They intend to stay at Gibson Place for a month or so before finding a house to rent. I’ve said they’re welcome to stay for as long as they wish. I knew you wouldn’t mind. They look so well and they have some wonderful news. Ruth is expecting. Thank goodness she is home. They both send their fondest love.
Nan
It was amazing news, but one week later while performing in Cardiff, another letter arrived from Nan and this one was puzzling. Jane had gone. She had taken advantage of their kindness, Nan wrote crossly, when they had allowed her a week away to visit Blackpool with a friend. She hadn’t returned and they had become alarmed. The police had been informed, but a constable had questioned her friend and he discovered that no holiday had been planned. Diamond had searched her room and realised that certain items were missing, especially a framed photograph of Mrs Holland. Jane wouldn’t have taken it if she had meant to return.
The only thing they could speculate was that she had met a young man and with her inheritance from Mrs Holland, had decided to start a new life with him. Although, why she couldn’t have said something before she left, perplexed both Nan and Diamond.
However, they had decided to hire two maids called Violet and Lily, knowing I would be in full agreement that it was necessary. Violet would help Nan in the kitchen, since she would never relinquish her duties as cook and Lily would be the new housemaid. So, two fresh blooms had joined our household, I smiled as I read. And it would be a full house when I finally arrived home.
As June continued, the weather became hotter. I looked forward to reaching the south coast of England, where the air would be cooler and we would finally be on the last part of the tour.
But Andrew’s changed behaviour still concerned me. He had never really recovered from that evening at Bath Abbey. He continued doing his job and his managing skills were excellent, but he had withdrawn into himself. He was much quieter than usual and had stopped dashing about in his inimitable style. I seemed to have lost his admiration and as the tour progressed I felt that I was losing his friendship too. He kept himself to himself and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t cheer him up.
And then I realised that the message he had received in Bath must have been from a lady friend. Obviously it had been a disastrous meeting with her, perhaps leading to a terrible quarrel. He had a broken heart and I could sympathise with that.
A lonely heart had replaced my broken heart. I desperately wanted to see Brett again and long before Brighton. I wondered if he would write. The Post O
ffice had been amazing and delivered my letters no matter where I happened to be. Sometimes the address simply said Miss Emmeline Barri, The lady of the Flowers, but the envelopes still turned up at the hotel or theatre. Amongst my pile of letters, containing not only praise for my performance, but also quite a few marriage proposals, there was never one from Brett. And I didn’t dare write to him. I was so afraid that his marriage, so precariously balanced on a knife-edge, would deteriorate even further if I pressed my attentions too far. Had he been unmarried I would have written and asked to meet him; nothing would have stopped me. The overwhelming yearning to see Brett continued; the emptiness inside me growing each day.
We journeyed through Devon and Cornwall and by the time we reached Truro I had had enough of Andrew’s ill-temper.
“Aren’t you happy with the tour?” I asked him when I had finished the first of two performances.
“It’s going very well,” he said dryly.
“Then why the long face? You’ve not been yourself since Bath.”
He looked uncomfortable. “Bath?”
We were in the dressing room and Martha was busy tidying up as usual. I decided to take matters into my own hands.
“Martha, could you give us a moment, please,” I said. She looked at me and then at Andrew, pulled a face and left the room, grumbling. I held out my hand. “Come and sit down,” I said softly.
He hesitated for a few seconds. “What is it?” he muttered. He threw himself down in the armchair, staring at me with eyes that seemed devoid of emotion.
I leaned towards him. “You must tell me what’s wrong. I’ve always hoped that we are friends.”
“We are friends and there’s nothing wrong.”
I became impatient. “Andrew, there is something troubling you. Your temperament since May has been awful and it all started when you received that letter in Bath. Now, I assumed it was from a lady friend and if it was and it contained bad news, then I’m truly sorry.”
“You are?”
“Yes, I am. But your snappish mood is not pleasant at all and it can’t go on. You’re making everyone miserable.”
He paused before saying, “So, you think I’ve been spurned by a lover?”
“I assumed that.”
He glanced across to the window where the street light filtered through the thin curtain. “Perhaps I should tell you everything.”
I gave a sigh of relief. “If it would make things better.”
He stood and walked over to the lamp standing on the table, staring at it as though it gave him solace. It lit up his face and I saw he was biting his lip. He looked up. “Call Martha and we’ll go back to the hotel. We can talk before we retire.” He gave a half-smile. “Unless you want to wait until tomorrow?”
I shook my head. “I’d rather hear what you have to say tonight.”
The journey to the hotel only took five minutes and once inside, Martha wished us goodnight.
“Where would you like us to talk?” said Andrew, as Martha disappeared up the stairs.
I shrugged indifferently. “Anywhere.”
He looked towards the lounge. “There doesn’t seem to be anyone in there.”
“The lounge will do,” I said and walked towards it.
It was quite a comfortable room with red flock wallpaper and palms dotted about. There was an abundance of chairs and couches and I chose a seat and unpinned my hat, placing it on the occasional table at the side. Andrew came to sit beside me.
“Where to begin,” he murmured.
“The beginning is always the best place,” I laughed.
He didn’t share my amusement. “Do you remember what quid pro quo means?”
I looked at him aghast. “Yes I do. Something for something. What are you suggesting?”
“Before I tell you anything, I want you to tell me something first.”
I stared at him.“What do you want to know?”
“It’s personal.”
I sank back against the cushions in despair. “Is it about your marriage proposal?”
He licked his lips nervously and shook his head, “No, it’s not that. I want to know if Lady Emily Shelbrook is your daughter.”
His words came as a terrible shock that made me catch my breath. “What makes you think that?” I whispered.
“I know you’re in love with her father and I’m convinced you had an affair with him. And that little girl was a result of the affair. And no doubt he put up the money for your academy fees.” He laughed bitterly. “I think his wife must be a good sport to take on his illegitimate child.”
I jumped to my feet. “You can think what you like. It doesn’t concern you.”
“Oh, yes it does,” he also rose from his seat, “especially when your reputation and mine are at stake. Do you realise what would happen if the newspapers got wind of this. They’d have a field day pulling us to bits.”
“Who would tell the papers?”
“People who know the truth.”
“What people?”
He scowled at me. “Anyone who finds out, damn you.”
“But very few people know…” I blinked in horror realising that my unguarded words had told him everything.
We stared at each other and then my knees went weak. I collapsed back onto the couch and leaned forward, holding my throbbing head. I closed my eyes and took in steady breaths. I felt the cushion dip as he sat next to me.
“So, we’ve got to decide what to do next,” he said.
I finally found the words to answer him and raised my head to look into eyes that were filled with disappointment. “We don’t do anything except carry on with the tour.” I sighed despondently. “All right, I admit it, I had Lord Shelbrook’s child and that child is Lady Emily. The affair…” I gasped at the falseness of the description, “…happened nine years ago and long before I went to Covent Garden. It didn’t stop me being successful then, so why should it ruin this tour.”
He gave a crooked smile. “I like your bravado.”
“It’s not bravado, it’s being pragmatic.” I felt emotionally drained. “I’m so weary and must go to bed. Now you know the truth about me, I hope you’re happier.”
“Is that why you wouldn’t marry me, because you’re in love with Lord Shelbrook?”
I considered this carefully. “I hadn’t seen Brett for many years when we met again that Christmas but I realised that I had never stopped loving him.” I searched Andrew’s expression hoping he would understand. “I turned you down for the reason I gave at the time. I can’t marry you because I don’t love you.” I stood and scooped up my hat. “Goodnight and I’ll see you in the morning.”
He came to his feet slowly and as I turned to go, I caught the wary look in his eyes and his lips parted as if to speak. But then thinking better of it, he closed his mouth, pressing his lips together.
It was only when I was in bed that I realised that the entire discussion had been about me. We had never mentioned his heartbreak, his letter and his lady friend.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
I lost heart with the tour after that. The joy of singing abandoned me and I was glad to leave Truro and head for St Austell where I was playing for one night only and then on to Plymouth for a four-night run. Only letters from Nan and Diamond kept me going.
I pondered on my plans after the tour. I would return to Gibson Place, of course, but I felt I couldn’t continue working with Andrew. In the days after our talk, his attitude changed in that he seemed kinder even tender towards me, although the anxiety returned occasionally. At least my confession had gone some way in settling his mind. He had mentioned that my phenomenal success with this tour almost guaranteed a tour of the northern counties the following year. I wasn’t so sure.
I knew that my bank balance was healthy and with the dividends from the Anaconda Mining Company pouring into my account, I was a wealthy woman. I wondered if I should take my singing abroad, or retire, or set up my own music academy. Whatever I decided, one thing was cert
ain, if I did continue touring then I must find another manager.
We arrived in Plymouth at the beginning of August with a few days in hand before my first night. Miss Rupp spent two days teaching Danny about this busy naval port before they again said goodbye as they set off on their second trip to Claythorpe House. Danny was full of excitement and when the month was done, they would travel back to London so that he could start school. With his departure my melancholy deepened and the morning he left, I finally wrote to Brett.
At first, I told him about Danny and Miss Rupp’s journey to Hampshire and how I wished I was with them. I said that the tour was continuing to be successful but I was very tired of travelling and was looking forward to its end. I didn’t tell him that I loved and missed him although I yearned to. I thought I was only chatting and completely missed the fact that my unhappiness was very apparent in every sentence, in every word I wrote.
On the first night in Plymouth, I sang some of my favourite songs from Gilbert and Sullivan’s HMS Pinafore along with a few opera arias. I closed with the naval hymn For Those in Peril on the Sea, before the habitual flower throwing into the audience. On the second and third night, I repeated the programme, since the first had been so well received, but on the third night I left the stage with a heavy heart. I reached the wings and nearly dropped the flower basket in surprise.
I had expected Andrew to be waiting with Martha, but instead Brett stood by her side, laughing heartily at my incredulous expression.
I threw the basket to her and held out my arms to him. “You’re here! What are you doing in Plymouth?”
He took my hands and kissed my fingers. “I read your letter, thought you sounded sad and immediately packed my bag and caught the train.”
I was conscious of Martha’s curiosity and gently removed my hands. “Well, it’s lovely that you should.” I glanced at Martha. “Where’s Andrew?”
“He had to go out.”
“During a performance?”
“He said it was urgent.”