She turned to him impulsively and threw her arms around him and kissed him. “Good luck, David!”
He laughed. “How can I have anything else with you at my side?”
These words brought her back to the grim reality of her life once more. David Cornish did not guess her true state of mind, did not know that the man she loved was shortly to be tried for murder. If George were convicted and sentenced to be hanged, could she force herself to go ahead with this new stage project? Fanny much doubted it!
Chapter Ten
Fanny spent as close to a pleasant afternoon with David as was possible in her troubled state of mind. When he said goodbye to her at the door of her flat, he invited her to dinner that evening and suggested that he call for her around seven. Reluctantly, she agreed, thinking it would help occupy her mind. When curtain time came and she had no show to do she was always restless.
David returned to the carriage in high spirits and she waved to him as he was driven away. She stood there watching wistfully after the vanishing carriage for a little. Several times during the afternoon she had been at the point of being completely honest with him. She felt in fairness she should tell him about George and her relationship with the titled young man. Should the trial go against him, she might not be able to serve as leading lady in David’s company. In fact she didn’t know what such a turn of events would do to her.
She went inside and began mounting the stairs to the rooms she shared with Hilda Asquith. Perhaps tonight she would find the opportunity to tell David her dilemma and get his reaction. She feared it might not be a pleasant one since she was aware that David continued to have a romantic interest in her. It was all terribly confusing!
Fanny found the key to the door in her purse and fitted it into the lock and opened it. As she entered the flat she found the elderly Hilda there ready to greet her.
There was an anxious look on the old woman’s face as she said, “You have a visitor, Fanny!”
Fanny looked beyond her and at once cried out her joy. For it was none other than the stalwart Captain Charles Palmer who rose from the high-backed chair and crossed the room to her.
“Charles!” she said with deep relief. “How good to have you safely back!”
“Dear Fanny,” the young man said, taking her in his arms and kissing her gently. Then releasing her, he said, “If you could guess how many times I dreamed of this moment when I was in that Godforsaken Crimea!”
“Let me study you!” she exclaimed, standing back and holding his hands in hers as she looked at him. His frame had filled out and his skin was bronzed. His heavy side-burns matched his mustache and the entire effect was one of more maturity. He looked at least ten years older than when she had last seen him only a little more than two years earlier.
He smiled grimly, “Well, tell me the worst!”
“You look older but more rugged. I should say from the female point of view you are much more interesting.”
Charles laughed in his good-natured way. “That is most pleasant to hear.”
She led him by one hand to the settee, saying, “I don’t know anyone I wished to see more. I’ve been praying for your return this last week.”
The young man at once became sober-faced. In a quiet voice, he said, “I have seen George.”
“You know everything, then,” she said tensely.
“Yes,” he hesitated as he glanced around. “Can we talk quite frankly?”
She saw that Hilda had discreetly withdrawn to the bedroom and closed the door. She said, “You may. Hilda is to be trusted completely.” And she sat down.
He sat across from her, his pleasant face shadowed. “As you know, it is a bad business.”
“I don’t dare think how bad it may be,” Fanny said. “From the moment of George’s arrest I have known no peace.”
Charles surveyed her in silence for a moment. “Poor Fanny!” he said. “You will remember that I long ago warned you against falling in love with George.”
She felt her cheeks burn and she stared down at her hands, nervously clasping and unclasping. “Unhappily one is not able to control one’s feelings in such matters.”
“So it would seem,” he said dryly. “In fairness, I warned you long ago when you were a servant in our house. And I again warned you before I left for the Crimea. Yet you began seeing him soon after that.”
“It was not planned on either of our parts. We bring each other as much pain as happiness,” she said wearily. “Yet we do not seem to be able to live apart from each other.”
“I deeply regret that,” Charles said. “And I’m surprised that George spoke of your affair in almost the same tone as you. He feels you are fated for each other, though you may not be fated to bring each other any lasting good.”
“That about sums it up,” she said. “He had no life with Virginia. And I have never truly loved anyone but him.”
Charles sighed. “And all the while I wrote you letters from the front, I had the sincere hope that you were coming around to my point of view. That you were gradually falling in love with me.”
“I am so fond of you, dear Charles!”
“But I do not stimulate the torment of love in you my brother does,” the young man in the red and blue uniform said bitterly.
“Do not be cruel to me, Charles,” she begged him.
He patted her hand. “I have no wish to do that, believe me. But I was shocked and hurt when I heard from George that you two had become lovers again.”
“I’m sorry.”
“His plight is desperate enough as it is,” Charles said. “If his affair with you came out it would prove such a strong motive for his murdering Virginia that I’m sure any jury would convict him.”
“But that kind of violence was never in our minds!”
“A jury might find it hard to believe,” the young officer said dryly. “Thank goodness you have kept it a secret. The newspapers would make much of it.”
“I don’t care what it might do to my career but I worry that it might hurt George’s defence,” she said.
“And you are quite right in that,” Charles told her. “I have talked a long while with George and he is concerned more for you than himself. He is resigned to whatever fate may have in store for him.”
“That is his weakness,” she exclaimed. “He is not the kind of fighter you are. You must give him support and help him find the courage he needs to win his case!”
“I will do all I can,” Charles said. “I have talked to Dora. She mentioned her visits to you. I can take over the task of messenger now. In fact, it might be wise if we were publicly seen together. Let your name be linked with mine.”
“To throw any who might suspect off the track?”
“Exactly.”
“I can see the sense in that,” she agreed. “And yet it will keep me in as close touch with George as is possible, since you will be in constant daily contact with him.”
“True. Dora is doing a fine job with the youngsters.” He paused. “You will not mind my saying this, but she is the one whom George should have loved and married. Neither you nor Virginia could supply him with the kind of support offered by Dora.”
Fanny grimaced. “You may be all too right in that. I have thought of it myself.”
He nodded, then started on another theme, saying, “I’m happy to tell you that George has the best possible defence in the person of Mr. Charles Williams, Mr. Montagu Matthews and Mr. W. S. Robinson.”
“I know little of such matters so I do not recognize the names,” she said. “I’m glad that in your view he has a good firm of solicitors.”
“I’m fully satisfied,” Charles said. “I have talked most with Montagu Matthews whom I like the best. The trial has been set for Thursday morning, November 8th at ten-thirty.”
“So soon!”
“Better to get it over with,” he said. “The longer the wait, the more time the papers have to write sensational stories.”
“I can see that,” sh
e said.
“The Judge will be Mr. Justice Hawkins, who has the reputation of being severe in cases of this sort.”
“Who heads the prosecution?”
“The Solicitor-General himself,” Charles said grimly. “None other than Sir Alan Norville. So the public may be sure that their peers are being prosecuted by the best talents and shown no special favors.”
Fanny said, “The fact that George has a title will go against him, if anything.”
“I’m afraid so,” Charles agreed.
“I must be there in court,” she insisted.
“It will not be a pleasant experience.”
“I must be there with him!”
Charles gave her a warning look. “It also might be risky.”
“Not if I come with you,” she said. “Especially if we carry out our plan of being seen in public places together. It will only look as if I have come as your lady friend.”
“I suppose we might take the chance,” Charles said with caution. “I think we ought to begin by having dinner at the Holburn House tonight. Enough people will see us there.”
Fanny hesitated, remembering her promise to have dinner with David Cornish. She said, “I’d like to, but—”
“But what?”
“I have already promised to have dinner with an actor friend who has asked me to become a member of his company.”
Charles wrinkled his brow. “Surely you can cancel that. Our being seen together is urgent now. I heard about the theatre burning and realize you must consider your career. But which is more important to you—George, or your future in the theatre?”
She said, “There can be no question. At this moment George urgently needs my allegiance.”
“So that must solve it,” the young captain said. “Leave word with the old lady that a friend has unexpectedly returned from the Crimea and you could not refuse him the pleasure of your company on his first evening in London.”
Fanny hesitated only a moment more. “Very well,” she said. “I’ll do it. But we must leave before seven. That is when he is coming for me.”
“We can leave whenever you are ready,” Charles promised her.
They dined together in the Grand Salon of the Holburn Restaurant in view of what seemed half of fashionable London. An orchestra played sedately at one end of the room and the food and drink was as elegant as the company. Fanny selected quail as her main dish while Charles decided on salmon. It was one of her first appearances in public since the fire and she was aware that many eyes were on her and her handsome soldier escort.
Charles smiled across the table at her and said, “I can hear the whisperings about us gathering like the in-coming waves of the ocean.”
“I’m not sure I enjoy it,” she told him.
“But you are used to being in public view on the stage. I’m a modest soldier normally exposed to only a small band of my fellow officers. The ordeal is bound to be worse for me.”
“I contradict that,” she said. “Being on display here has little in common with appearing in a role behind the guarding footlights.”
“You must give a light-hearted performance. Show no worries or the whole purpose of our little excursion on the town will be defeated. You wouldn’t want that!”
“No, I wouldn’t want that,” she said, managing a smile. All the while she was filled with concern about George and feeling guilty for having broken her engagement with David Cornish. David did not deserve such treatment.
The evening went well. Several theatre-goers paused by their table and asked Fanny when she would be appearing on the London stage again. She mentioned the opening of the David Cornish company and said she hoped to be the leading lady in his productions.
It was past ten when Charles saw her to the door of the flat. He said, “This evening has meant a lot to me, apart from what we may have done to help George. I shall keep in touch with you and we must be seen together often.”
Standing in the shadowed hall with him, she begged him, “When you see George, give him my love!”
“I shall,” he promised. “And do you not have even a single chaste good-night kiss for his brother?”
“Goodnight, Charles,” she said gently. “And thank you!” Her kiss was brief and surely chaste but seemed to satisfy him.
Inside she consulted Hilda, who had gone to bed. She roused the old woman from her sleep and asked, “How did it go? What did David say?”
Hilda, in her nightcap, blinked sleepily at her. “What do you expect? He was hurt and angry!”
She sank down on the side of the bed. “I knew he would be!”
“Can you blame him?”
“No.”
“I stressed the fact that Captain Palmer was a war hero but it didn’t make much difference to him,” the old woman said. “He left with the promise of coming to ask you for an explanation in the morning.”
“I see,” Fanny said dully.
“What are you going to do?”
Fanny looked down at the carpet. “I shall have to tell him the truth. In fairness, I can do no less. Now that Charles has returned I shall be seeing him a lot. He will be my link with George.”
Hilda gave her a concerned look. “You have another course! Desert this unhappy love and lover. Refuse to see the soldier brother as well! Give your future to the theatre and David. It is what you were born for!”
Fanny could not help but be startled by the old woman’s impassioned words. And she knew well that Hilda Asquith might be right. This was her last chance to free herself from George. She was not sure that he would allow her to return to the stage even if he were acquitted and they eventually were married. He might refuse to let her return to acting.
And acting was her life! She knew that now just as her father had known it long ago. But her sense of loyalty and her love for George would not let her desert him in his desperate hour of need. She must stand by and see the outcome of the trial before thinking about her own future. And she must be frank in explaining all this to David Cornish.
She broke away from these sobering thoughts to tell the old woman, “I may be making the wrong choice. But I cannot see that I have an alternative. Tomorrow I shall be completely honest with David.”
Following an almost sleepless night she felt little prepared for her confrontation with the young actor-manager. She put on her favorite rose moire gown and tried to bide her pallor and weariness by spending time on a flattering new hair-style.
David arrived promptly at eleven as he had said. She bade him to sit with her on the settee but he refused, and insisted on standing through her long and uneven explanation. Somehow she managed to tell it all. Then she looked up at his stern, young face and waited for his reaction.
It came soon enough as he said angrily, “So this is the man you have loved since your girlhood! This titled murderer!”
“George is not that!”
David Cornish made a dramatic gesture of disgust with his hand, thrusting away her protest. “The court seems to think so since they are putting him on trial for the murder of his wife!”
“He must be declared innocent!”
“That remains for a jury to decide,” David reminded her.
“I cannot help my love for him,” she said, a sob in her voice.
David knelt by her and took her hand in his. “You have foolishly given yourself to this man long enough. And what have you received in return? A few furtive rendezvous and the total loss of your peace of mind. You’ve even threatened your career.”
“I had no choice. Neither did he. Our love was too strong for us to cope with!”
“That sounds like a line from a badly-written melodrama,” David said scornfully. “Now his brother is using you. Between them all they will ruin you. Give up this senseless love and dedicate yourself to the theatre where you belong!”
She looked at him sadly. “A woman needs more than a career. I want love and affection as well.”
“I offer you that,” David told her. “I wil
l marry you tomorrow if you say the word, or you can ask me to wait until you are ready, and I will. In the meantime you can go on to further glory on the London stage under my guidance.”
“I do not question your genius for the stage,” she said. “Nor do I know a better friend, than the one I have in you.”
David’s sterness vanished a little. “In that case the matter should be settled.”
“It’s not that easy!” she protested. “You must be patient a little longer. Wait until the trial is over. Then I shall give you my answer.”
His face shadowed again. “And if he is acquitted? Will you marry him?”
“I’m not sure how I’ll feel then,” she said. “Or what his feelings will be!”
“And if he is convicted?”
“The conviction must be appealed,” she said. “I know him to be innocent.”
“Either way you are throwing your lot in with him and turning your back on me and the real people in your life!” David said angrily. “Do this and you will live to hate yourself!”
“There is hatred in my feelings now!”
He got to his feet again. “I find it hard to believe. You are so intelligent in other ways. In this you are a hopeless case.”
She looked down. “I’m sorry, David.”
“I wonder about that,” he said bitterly. “And I promise you I’m going ahead with my plans, with you or without you. I shall begin rehearsals on the fifth. If you are not at the Windsor for the first rehearsal I shall find a replacement for you.”
“I understand,” she said quietly. “You are justified in all that! I ask nothing of you!”
He sighed. “The sad thing is, you could have anything I have to offer. Everything that is mine! But nothing that I offer balances your love for that murderer!”
She broke into sobs at this but he did not attempt to offer her solace. Instead he angrily picked up his hat and cane and strode out of the apartment, slamming the door after him. In effect, she realized, he was walking out of her life.
Vintage Love Page 140