No Occupation for a Lady

by Gail Whitiker

  Victoria felt her heart thumping in her chest. To think that her words were having this kind of effect. That her characters and her story had brought the audience to its feet. It was a heady moment and if ever she needed proof that she was pursuing the right path, this must surely be it.

  She shared a single glance with Laurie, but knew she dare not risk another. His pride was all too evident.

  ‘Oh my, that was splendid,’ Miss Wright said as they exited the box. ‘Better even than the first time. Did you not think so, Cousin Alistair?’

  ‘It was very impressive,’ he agreed. ‘Your uncle is to be commended, Miss Bretton. I thought Miss Chermonde’s performance tonight outstanding.’

  ‘I’m sure she would be delighted to hear you say so,’ Victoria said. Then, caught up in her enthusiasm and joy, said, ‘Perhaps you and Miss Wright would like to meet her?’

  No sooner were the words out of her mouth than Victoria realised she had made a dreadful mistake. She felt both Alistair’s and Laurence’s gazes on her and knew she should not have spoken, but the look of excitement on Miss Wright’s face was not to be denied. ‘You mean...we could actually go backstage and meet Miss Chermonde and Mr Trumphani?’

  ‘That’s what I was thinking, but it is up to Mr Devlin, of course,’ Victoria said hesitantly.

  He was watching her with narrowed eyes, his expression thoughtful. Victoria, who anticipated a quelling set down, was considerably relieved when all he said was, ‘The offer is a generous one, Miss Bretton, but I do not think it would be a good idea. My sister and brother-in-law would not be pleased to hear that Isabelle was associating with...such people.’

  Victoria felt the warmth start in her neck and travel upwards until her entire face was engulfed. Of course they wouldn’t be pleased. In the afterglow of her success, she had lost sight of the fact that actors and actresses were not suitable company for people like Alistair Devlin and Isabelle Wright. To introduce Isabelle to Signy Chermonde would not have been to elevate Signy’s standing. It would have been to lower Isabelle’s. ‘Yes, of course. Forgive me. I only thought—’

  ‘No apologies are necessary,’ Alistair said gently. ‘I know your offer was well intentioned and I’m quite sure Isabelle would love to go backstage. However, there is a good possibility that someone would see her and that would not be good for her reputation. London may be a big city, but news like that makes the rounds very quickly.’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ Victoria said, biting her lip.

  ‘We could, however, pay our respects to Uncle Theo,’ Laurence suggested. ‘Surely there could be no objection to Miss Wright meeting him in the privacy of the Green Room. He does, after all, move in very good society.’

  Victoria looked up and saw Alistair watching her, the look in his eyes one she hadn’t seen before. ‘I don’t think that would go amiss,’ he agreed. ‘Though it would be better if it were to take place in the vestibule rather than anywhere backstage.’

  ‘Then I shall go and seek him out,’ Laurence said. ‘And ask him to meet us at the foot of the grand staircase.’

  ‘Oh, yes, that would be lovely,’ Miss Wright said, clapping her hands. ‘Then he can confirm that I really did see Valentine Lawe in the theatre tonight.’

  Victoria blanched. ‘You saw him? Where?’

  ‘In the first row of boxes. I noticed him when he came in. He walked in a very slow, dignified manner and he was dressed all in black and white.’

  ‘As were most of the men in the theatre,’ Alistair pointed out.

  ‘Yes, but when he turned, I noticed that he was wearing a single red rose in his lapel! And I saw a number of the performers glance in his direction. It must have been Valentine Lawe!’

  ‘Fine. While you speculate as to the likelihood of the playwright being in the audience, I shall go and speak to Lord Gavering,’ Alistair said.

  ‘And I shall search out Uncle Theo,’ Laurence said with a pointed glance at Victoria. ‘I think I know where he’s likely to be.’

  Left alone with Miss Wright, Victoria pointed to the red banquettes lining the wall. ‘Shall we sit down while we wait for the gentlemen to return?’

  ‘Yes, by all means.’

  When they were comfortably seated, Victoria said with a smile, ‘So, are you enjoying your stay in London, Miss Wright?’

  ‘I am having the very best time, Miss Bretton. Cousin Alistair has been so good to me. Taking me around, making sure I see all the sights and meet all the right people. It has been terribly busy, but very exciting. I shall be quite bereft when I return home. Of course, everyone is anxious that I meet a suitable gentleman and get married. I know that’s why Mama agreed to let me come,’ Isabelle said. ‘But I’m quite happy to visit the shops and go to the theatre and experience all that London has to offer.’

  ‘How do you like living with Lord and Lady Kempton?’ Victoria asked in a casual voice.

  ‘Oh. Well, they’re very nice, of course,’ Miss Wright said, blushing. ‘And I know they mean well...’

  ‘But?’

  ‘But they are rather boring,’ the girl admitted. ‘It’s not that they mean to be, and I suppose it is terribly ungrateful of me to say so, but it’s just that...the way they carry on is so painfully...’

  ‘Correct?’ Victoria supplied helpfully.

  ‘Exactly! Lord Kempton is very strict, and Cousin Julia and her husband even more so. But then I suppose an archdeacon and his wife must be more mindful of the proprieties than most.’

  ‘Yes,’ Victoria allowed grudgingly, ‘which is why Mr Devlin has to be very careful about how you go on while you are here.’

  ‘I suppose. Still, I should have loved to go backstage and meet the cast of A Lady’s Choice,’ Miss Wright confessed. ‘If Cousin Alistair is allowed to involve himself with orphans, I don’t see why I can’t—’

  ‘Orphans?’ Victoria interrupted.

  ‘Oh dear, I don’t think I was supposed to say anything about that,’ Miss Wright said. ‘But I suppose it’s too late now. And I really don’t see why he doesn’t want to tell anyone. It’s not as though he was doing anything wrong.’

  ‘What exactly is he doing?’ Victoria asked.

  ‘Well, I don’t know all the details, but I overheard him talking to Lord Valbourg the other evening and I think he’s bought a house with a view to turning it into an orphanage. Apparently he already has a place in town that he uses for the purpose, but it’s not big enough any more, so he bought a larger house and plans to renovate it. I think Lord Valbourg is going to help him.’

  ‘I had no idea,’ Victoria said, trying to imagine Alistair Devlin in such a benevolent role. Instead of squandering his wealth on prostitutes and gambling, he was using it to help children whose circumstances had forced them to find a living on the streets. To think she had accused him of being selfish. ‘I wouldn’t have thought him the type to get involved in such a cause,’ she whispered.

  ‘He doesn’t talk about it much,’ Miss Wright admitted. ‘I’m not even sure my aunt and uncle know, but I don’t think they would be terribly pleased if they did.’

  And then, Victoria had another disturbing thought. Was that where he had been going the day he had come upon her at the Gryphon? Was that the stop he had been intending to make? He’d made it sound as though he was on his way to visit a woman—and she had left him in no doubt as to how she felt about his doing so. But if he had been planning to visit an orphanage, why hadn’t he told her? Why had he let her believe his destination was somewhere else, with an entirely different purpose in mind? Had he wanted her to think ill of him?

  Regrettably, it was a question for which there was to be no answer. Laurence returned with their uncle and, at the same time, Alistair came back to join them.

  ‘Well, well, Devlin, we meet again,’ Uncle Theo said. ‘I’m surprised to see you here a seco
nd time.’

  ‘If someone had told me a few weeks ago that I would be heading to any theatre to see a repeat performance of a play, I would have told them they were mad,’ Alistair said with a smile. ‘But apart from my cousin insisting we come tonight, it was a pleasure to see the play again. The cast gave an even stronger performance than they did on opening night.’

  ‘I am delighted to hear you say so,’ Uncle Theo said. ‘Did you enjoy the performance, Miss Wright?’

  ‘Indeed, Mr Templeton! Especially once I realised that Valentine Lawe was actually in the theatre!’

  Victoria knew her uncle to be a talented actor, but even she hadn’t realised how talented until that moment. He looked at Miss Wright without blinking and said, ‘And he did not come up and say hello? The bounder! Where did you see him?’

  ‘In the first row of boxes, second from the left,’ Miss Wright said. ‘A very serious-looking man, with a red rose in his lapel.’

  ‘A red rose.’ Her uncle frowned, and then, started to laugh. ‘My dear Miss Wright, I am sorry to disappoint you, but that was not Valentine Lawe.’

  ‘It wasn’t?’’

  ‘No. It was Sir Michael Loftus, the theatre critic.’

  ‘It was?’ It was Victoria’s turn to be surprised. ‘But...I thought he never attended plays more than once.’

  ‘That was my understanding too, but I know for a fact that he was here tonight and that he was sitting in that box.’

  ‘Oh well, that is disappointing,’ Miss Wright complained. ‘I was so sure it was Valentine Lawe.’

  ‘Never mind, cousin, at least you were able to see the play again,’ Alistair said. ‘I’m sure you will have a chance to meet the renowned playwright before you leave London.’ He turned his head and looked straight at Victoria. ‘If there is any possibility of that happening, I’m sure Miss Bretton will know how to bring it about.’

  Victoria didn’t hear what anyone said in response. How could she, given the staggering implication of what Alistair had just said? He believed his cousin would achieve the introduction she so desperately craved...and that Victoria would be the one to make it happen. There was only one possible conclusion she could draw from that.

  Somehow or other, Alistair had figured out that she was Valentine Lawe!

  Chapter Eight

  Not surprisingly, Victoria passed a thoroughly wretched night. As the midnight hours stretched slowly into dawn, she stared up at her bedroom ceiling, wondering how Alistair could possibly have guessed her secret. Had she said something to give herself away? Indicated by some wayward glance that she was the elusive playwright?

  She must have, for why else would he have made the comment?

  And yet, as she thought back over every conversation the two of them had ever had, Victoria could pinpoint nothing that might have exposed her. She no longer started when Lawe’s name was mentioned, nor did she blush when praise was heaped upon his work. She had learned to remain calm, as though the comments meant nothing to her. Even during her numerous conversations with Miss Wright, she was sure she had acted the part of uninterested bystander with a convincing lack of concern.

  Still, she must have let something slip during their time together. Alistair’s focused gaze and casually delivered remark were too pointed to ignore.

  * * *

  Needing to talk to someone who had been there during last night’s conversation, Victoria waited for her brother to finish his breakfast before asking if he might like to join her for a walk. Thankfully, the morning had turned warm and, happy to get out of the house, Laurence agreed. Fifteen minutes later, they set off.

  ‘So, what’s really on your mind?’ he asked after they had chatted about inconsequential matters for the first few minutes.

  Victoria sighed. She might have known he would see right through her. ‘I need to ask you a question. You were there last night, when Uncle Theo told Miss Wright it wasn’t Valentine Lawe sitting in the fourth row, but Sir Michael Loftus.’

  ‘Yes. So?’

  ‘So, a few minutes later, Mr Devlin said something I haven’t been able to forget.’

  ‘That he was madly in love with you?’

  Victoria coloured. ‘Gudgeon! He would never say something like that to me.’ And sadly, she knew all too well the reasons why. ‘The point is, after Miss Wright said how disappointed she was that Valentine Lawe wasn’t in the audience, Mr Devlin told her not to worry because he had every confidence she would meet the playwright before she left London. Then he looked right at me and said I would be the one to arrange it.’

  Laurence gave her a blank stare. ‘So?’

  ‘So you don’t think he was saying he knew I was Valentine Lawe?’

  ‘No. He likely said that because he knows Theodore Templeton is your uncle and that if anyone was going to be able to effect an introduction to Valentine Lawe, it would be you by virtue of your relationship to him. Unless you’ve said something to make him think otherwise.’

  ‘I haven’t. I’ve gone over every word I’ve ever said and cannot think of one that might have given me away.’

  ‘Then you have nothing to worry about.’

  ‘Then why do I feel so guilty?’ Victoria murmured.

  ‘Because you don’t like lying to the man. You feel guilty about having to deceive him and you’re afraid he will think less of you if he finds out you haven’t been telling him the truth. Of course, that only applies if you have feelings for him in return.’

  ‘Don’t be silly, Laurence, that has nothing to do with it.’

  ‘Hasn’t’ it?’ Laurence turned his attention to the road ahead. ‘See that gentleman coming towards us?’

  Victoria spotted the middle-aged man and nodded. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Do you care if he thinks your bonnet is hideous?’

  Victoria frowned. ‘Of course not.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because I don’t know him.’

  ‘And therefore care nothing for his opinion. However, if Alistair Devlin was approaching and I were to ask the same question, I doubt your answer would be the same.’

  Victoria blushed. ‘Of course it would be the same. I don’t care what Mr Devlin thinks of my appearance.’

  ‘Don’t you?’

  ‘No.’ She turned to find Laurence’s gently amused glance resting on her. ‘Well, it’s not as though I have any reason to care.’

  ‘A woman doesn’t need a reason to wish to look attractive for a man she likes, Tory,’ Laurence said. ‘And I think you do like him enough to care what he thinks. Unfortunately, right now I have to say your time would be better spent in trying to decide what to do about Sir Michael’s offer. You know exactly what he wants and you’re going to have to give him an answer soon.’

  Laurence was right. She did have to make up her mind quickly, both with regard to Sir Michael’s offer and about going public with Valentine Lawe. She and Laurence had already agreed that the offer was an incredible validation of her talent, but that there were definite consequences to meeting with the man. Uncle Theo had blessedly bought her some time by saying she was abroad, but she couldn’t stay in Europe for ever.

  At some point, Sir Michael was going to want an answer, and she would have to have one ready. One she could live with...whatever the outcome.

  * * *

  The following day, Alistair left the estate agent’s office well pleased with the morning’s work. The papers were signed, the balance of the monies paid and the deed of ownership was finally in his hands.

  He also had a new partner in his good friend, Lord Valbourg. Once he had described his plans for the old house, Valbourg had been only too happy to lend his assistance. Although money was not an issue for either of them, much of Alistair’s was tied up in investments and would take time to release. Valbourg’s was sitting idl
e, just waiting to be spent. When Alistair had shown him the list of projected expenses, Valbourg had been more than willing to make available whatever funds were necessary in order to get things going.

  Yes, all in all it had been a very good morning, Alistair decided. The only hiccup had been his discussion over breakfast with his father concerning the subject of marriage to Lady Sarah Millingham. That was something Alistair had not been happy about and he had made it very clear to his father that such a marriage was not going to happen. For one thing, they had absolutely nothing in common. For another, she was too damn young. Alistair didn’t want a schoolroom miss for a bride. He wanted a woman who knew her own mind; one who could match wits with him and meet him on his own terms.

  Lady Sarah’s mind was as vacuous as a butterfly’s.

  As to being a steadying influence in her life, Alistair couldn’t imagine anything worse. The last thing he needed was a wife upon whom he constantly had to keep a watchful eye. One who was prone to doing silly, immature things. One who giggled.

  That would drive him to distraction.

  Besides, his feelings were already engaged. No one knew that, of course, including the lady in whom they were invested. How could she know when the awareness of his feelings had come so recently to him? But because of what he felt for Victoria Bretton, Alistair could entertain no thoughts of any other woman in his life.

  At first, it was just her loveliness that had appealed to him, though he had quickly discovered that there was far more to her than mere physical beauty. Victoria’s ability to hold her head high and to ignore what people said about her was a quality he could admire, as was her desire to do what was right. She was funny, forthright, loving and honest.

  Unfortunately, right from the start, she had been determined to keep him at arm’s length. She believed they would not suit and that his position in society and her fondness for the theatre would always keep them apart. Added to that was her belief that he was a man who wasted his time in shallow pursuits and therefore not worthy of her time.