* * *
‘Mrs Templeton will see you now, Lady Joanna,’ the butler said. ‘If you would be so good as to come this way.’
With a brief nod, Joanna followed the servant up a wide marble staircase. Large portraits of exquisitely dressed ladies and dashing gentlemen in Elizabethan costume hung from pale-gold walls, their eyes seeming to follow Joanna as she climbed.
Her decision to approach the Templetons with regard to Valentine Lawe had been reached after a number of sleepless hours during which she tried to work out the best way of finding out the answers she needed. Now, as she followed the butler into a lavishly decorated drawing room that, while somewhat out of date, seemed perfectly in keeping with the eccentricities of a theatre producer and his decidedly flamboyant wife, she hoped she would not come to regret it.
‘Lady Joanna, how delightful to see you again,’ Mrs Templeton said, rising to greet her. She was garbed in a gown of deep-violet silk that looked marvellous against her flaming red hair. Diamonds flashed at her ears and throat, as though she was off to a midnight gala rather than welcoming a visitor to her drawing room in the middle of the day. ‘I am so sorry we did not have more of an opportunity to chat at Winifred’s engagement celebration.’
‘No apology is necessary, Mrs Templeton, there were a lot of people there,’ Joanna said, remembering what she had heard of the lady’s conversation and exceedingly grateful they had not had an opportunity to spend any more time together.
‘Yes, celebratory parties are always so busy, are they not? But now that you are here, we will be able to make up for it.’
‘Mrs Templeton,’ Joanna began, hoping that what she was about to say would not sound terribly rude. ‘Would it be possible to speak to your husband?’
There was a very brief pause. ‘My husband?’
‘Yes. I would like to ask him about...a play. Several plays, in fact, with which he has been intimately involved.’
The lady blinked large, emerald eyes. ‘I see. Well, yes, if that is what you wish, I will see if he is available.’ She nodded at the footman standing discreetly in one corner, who left immediately. ‘Laurence tells me you are an exceedingly talented artist, Lady Joanna,’ Mrs Templeton continued after the door closed. ‘And that your sketches of a particular place in Egypt, the name of which I cannot remember, were quite stunning.’
‘It was good of him to say so,’ Joanna murmured, uncomfortable at the mention of Laurence’s name given her reasons for coming here today.
Fortunately, Mrs Templeton didn’t seem to notice. ‘I do so envy you the experience of travelling to foreign places. I too had quite an adventurous streak when I was a younger woman. I was forever making up stories about being a queen in a faraway land. Indeed, as a little girl I used to dress up in my mother’s clothes and stage amateur theatricals for my family. They were all very kind, of course, and put up with me asking for the strangest things, but I did so love performing. And I was very good at memorising lines. No doubt that is why I ended up on the stage.’
‘Where you turned your youthful exuberance for play acting into a true talent for performance,’ Theo Templeton said, walking into the room. ‘And delighted a great many more people than just those who were obliged to watch your performances for free.’
‘Thank you, darling,’ his wife said, offering up her cheek for his kiss.
‘And good afternoon to you, Lady Joanna,’ the gentleman said, straightening.
‘Mr Templeton.’ Joanna abruptly stood up. ‘I hope you will forgive my disturbing you like this.’
‘Not at all, I was getting rather tired of totting up figures. Please sit down. I never like to keep a lady standing on my account.’
‘I know this is somewhat unusual,’ Joanna said, resuming her seat, ‘but I was hoping you might be able to clarify a very confusing situation for me. One that concerns some of the plays you produced at the Gryphon.’
‘Of course, if it is within my power,’ Mr Templeton said.
They were interrupted by a knock at the door and by the appearance of a young maid, asking if Mrs Templeton might have a moment to speak to Cook.
‘Certainly,’ Mrs Templeton said, rising. ‘Forgive me, Lady Joanna, but we are having a large dinner party tomorrow evening and I asked Cook to try something new. No doubt the poor woman is finding some of my instructions difficult to follow. That is what comes of trying to teach an English cook to prepare a French soufflé! I shan’t be long.’
Mrs Templeton departed in a rustle of silk and a flash of diamonds, leaving behind the delicate fragrance of lily of the valley. Joanne could have kissed the unknown Cook for the excellence of her timing.
‘Now, Lady Joanna,’ Mr Templeton said when they were alone, ‘what is it you wish to—gracious, what now?’ he said as the door opened again and his butler appeared. ‘Yes, Trehorn?’
‘Pardon me, Mr Templeton, but Sir Michael Loftus has called and is asking if he might have a word with you.’
‘Goodness, what a busy day. Show him into my study,’ Mr Templeton said, ‘and tell him I shall join him in a few minutes.’
‘Very good, sir.’
The butler withdrew and Mr Templeton turned to Joanna with a smile. ‘Forgive me, Lady Joanna. The house is more like a coaching stop this morning, with all this coming and going. But we shall try again and hopefully without any further interruptions. Now, what was it you wished to ask me?’
The intensity of his gaze brought a flush to Joanna’s cheeks, but she forced herself to say what she knew she must. ‘You will no doubt find this strange, Mr Templeton, but a little while ago, I came into possession of some information. It was not by the most honest of means, I admit, but the conversation I overheard has left me feeling extremely concerned and deeply confused.’
‘I see. And you believe I am in a position to relieve your concern and confusion?’
‘I do...because the confusion involves your nephew Mr Bretton, and his sister Mrs Devlin.’
Joanna watched the gentleman’s face intently for any signs of dismay or embarrassment, but beyond an expression of mild curiosity, she saw nothing. ‘Really? What exactly did you overhear?’
‘First, let me say that I was somewhere I should not have been and that the conversation I heard was not meant to go beyond the walls of the room in which it took place,’ Joanna said, wishing to be very clear on that point. ‘But rightly or wrongly, I was in the vicinity and I heard Mrs Bretton speaking to your wife about this “wretched affair with Victoria”.’
Mr Templeton’s eyebrows rose ever so slightly. ‘Did you indeed.’
‘I had no idea it meant anything until I heard Mrs Bretton say that it all came right when Laurence told Sir Michael that he was Valentine Lawe, and then Mrs Templeton replied that matters would have been very different had Mr Bretton not stepped forwards to claim the role.’
‘How interesting.’ Mr Templeton got to his feet and crossing to the wall, pulled on a slender tapestry panel. ‘Anything else?’
‘Mrs Bretton then said it had all come far too close to crashing down for her liking and that she hated to think what would have happened had Mr Bretton let his sister tell the truth about Valentine Lawe. And it is that remark which has prompted me to call upon you today, Mr Templeton. I would very much like to know what she meant by that.’
‘I really cannot say,’ Mr Templeton replied with every appearance of sincerity. ‘Are you sure that is what you heard?’
‘I was all but standing outside the door,’ Joanna said. ‘I admit, there were a few times when the voices grew muffled, but I thought I heard the rest of it quite clearly.’
‘And I suspect, Lady Joanna, that you may have missed more than you thought. Ah, Trehorn, good. Would you be so kind as to bring Sir Michael up?’
‘Right away, Mr Templeton.’
Joanna blinked her surprise. Sir Michael Loftus was to join them? Without her being given an opportunity to finish what she had come to say?
‘Do not fear, Lady Joan
na, I am not trying to rush you out of the house,’ Mr Templeton assured her with a genial smile. ‘But I believe Sir Michael will be able to add something of value to the conversation. I know for a fact that when he originally called at Green Street to enquire after the identity of Valentine Lawe, he was informed by my nephew that he was Valentine Lawe, and that he did so in front of his father, his sister and her then soon-to-be husband. I can assure you that no voices were raised to the contrary, but I shall ask Sir Michael to corroborate that when he arrives.’
‘But is Mr Bretton truly a playwright? Or is this all a great hoax?’
Joanna heard the drawing door open and, expecting it to be Sir Michael Loftus, did not immediately turn around. As such, she was totally unprepared to hear Laurence say, ‘I would prefer to answer that myself, if you don’t mind, Uncle.’
Joanna whirled. ‘Mr Bretton!’
‘Good day, Lady Joanna.’ Laurence walked into the room with, of all people, Mrs Devlin a step behind. ‘Pardon the interruption, Uncle, but Victoria and I came to see you about an article that appeared in the morning paper. I had not thought to see Lady Joanna here as well.’
‘No, I suspect not,’ Mr Templeton said, getting to his feet. ‘But it seems she has some concerns about your ability to write plays and I was about to give her an answer when you arrived. Ah, Sir Michael, excellent timing,’ he said as a well-dressed gentleman walked into the room. ‘I think you know everyone here, with the exception, perhaps, of Lady Joanna.’
‘Indeed. Good afternoon, Lady Joanna, Mrs Devlin,’ Sir Michael said with a bow. ‘And Mr Bretton, how fortuitous. I had planned on calling to see you later in the day about your new play, but your arrival here now saves me the trip.’
‘His new play?’ Joanna said, glancing at Laurence.
‘Indeed, as brilliant a piece of writing as I have ever seen, as I told Templeton yesterday,’ Sir Michael said. ‘Did you not think so, Mrs Devlin? You must have read it.’
Mrs Devlin glanced at her brother with a look of incredulity. ‘As a matter of fact, I have not, Sir Michael. I wasn’t even aware Laurence had finished it.’
‘I did, barely a week ago,’ Laurence said slowly, ‘but I decided to show it to Uncle Theo first because I thought he would be the best judge of whether or not it was good enough to show anyone else.’
‘Sound thinking,’ Mr Templeton commented. ‘And I shouldn’t be offended, Victoria. Laurence knew how busy you were with Isabelle’s wedding and probably felt you wouldn’t have time to give it the consideration it deserved. But I was delighted to read it because it is, in a word, outstanding.’
‘Yes, it is,’ Sir Michael agreed. ‘And I admit to being surprised because it is a complete departure from any of Lawe’s previous works, but I predict it will be just as big a success. Why don’t you tell the ladies a little bit about it, Mr Bretton?’
* * *
Laurence stared in disbelief at the two men standing opposite him, waiting for him to deliver a précis of his play. His uncle thought the work outstanding? Sir Michael thought it a brilliant piece of writing? Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined that something he had pulled together in less than three weeks would merit such superlatives.
It was all he could do not to take Joanna in his arms and dance her around the room.
He did not, of course, because this was supposed to be his fifth play, not his first, and the thrill of hearing that he had written something good enough to be produced for the stage should have lessened considerably by now. Nevertheless, it was difficult to maintain a convincing level of sang-froid when the knowledge he had produced a work to the standard of Valentine Lawe had been pointed out to everyone in the room...especially Joanna.
‘Yes, of course,’ he said, clearing his throat. ‘The play is entitled The Silver Chalice and it is the story of two warring nations, one ruled by a despotic pharaoh, the other by a clever but humble woman who is determined to defeat him and to gain freedom for her people.’
‘A noble premise,’ Victoria said. ‘When and where is it set?’
‘Egypt, 1280 BC.’
Joanna gasped. ‘But that is the time of Seti the First!’
‘That’s right, and it was you who inspired the story, Lady Joanna.’
‘Me?’
‘Yes. The day you told me I should combine my passion for ancient Egypt with my love of telling stories,’ Laurence said quietly. ‘For some reason, the thought of doing so had never occurred to me before, but once I sat down to rework the story along those lines, it all fell perfectly into place.’
‘As I said, it is a departure from the Valentine Lawe plays we are used to seeing,’ Theo said, ‘but I agree with Sir Michael that the story is riveting and I predict it will attract an even wider audience than did his first four plays, especially if it is produced at Drury Lane.’
‘I still have to get Elliston’s approval on that,’ Sir Michael said, ‘but based on the strength of Valentine Lawe’s name, I don’t anticipate any problems. I’ll get back to you in a few days, Templeton. Well done, Mr Bretton. Well done indeed!’
‘My goodness, this is exciting news,’ Victoria said as that gentleman left the room. ‘You were very naughty not to tell me you had finished the play, Laurence, but I am thrilled to hear it has been so well received.’
‘No more than I, I can assure you,’ Laurence admitted with a rueful smile.
His sister’s eyes sparkled with mirth. ‘Yes, I’m sure. But now I really must run. I promised to meet Mr Devlin at the orphanage and I do not like to keep him waiting. Shall I wait for you in the carriage, Laurence?’
Laurence could see that his sister was bursting with curiosity and knew she would have a thing or two to say to him when they were alone. But he said only, ‘No, you go on ahead. I shall make my own way home. I’d like to have a word with Lady Joanna first.’
‘Very well, then, I shall see you at Mama’s later. She has invited Mr Devlin and myself for dinner, so you may tell me all about your new play then. As for you, Uncle,’ Victoria said, crossing the room to kiss him affectionately on the cheek. ‘Thank you for giving us such splendid news. It could not have come at a better time.’
‘I am inclined to think the same,’ Theo murmured. ‘I shall see you after dinner. I need to have a word with your father.’
Joanna, who had said very little during the last few minutes, abruptly stood up. ‘I must be going too—’
‘Lady Joanna...’ Laurence said. ‘If I could have a moment—’
‘Thank you for agreeing to see me, Mr Templeton,’ Joanna said, directing her comment to his uncle and sparing not so much as a glance for Laurence. ‘Please accept my apologies for having taken up so much of your time.’
‘You took up no time and no apologies are necessary,’ Theo assured her in a gentle voice. ‘It was a pleasure to see you again, Lady Joanna.’
‘Lady Joanna,’ Laurence said, stepping in front of her. ‘I really must speak with you.’
‘I’m afraid I have no time, Mr Bretton.’ Joanna smoothed her gown and tucked an errant curl under the brim of her bonnet. ‘I have a very busy afternoon.’
‘Have you no word for me at all?’ Laurence said, desperate to know how she felt. But though the lady looked as though she might say something, in the end, she merely pressed her lips together and shook her head before walking quickly out of the room.
Laurence went to follow, but was stayed by the pressure of his uncle’s hand. ‘Let her go, Laurence,’ Theo said.
‘But I have to explain—’
‘She will not hear what you have to say, nor will she thank you for following her out,’ Theo said. ‘She came here today, expecting to hear one thing, only to be told another. And it was made worse by the fact that Sir Michael Loftus said what he did in front of both of you.’
Laurence paused, torn between what he wanted to do and what his uncle believed to be the right thing. ‘Did you say what you did about my play for her benefit?’
‘Goo
d God, no! I said what I did because the play is excellent. And you know Loftus wouldn’t have said it was exceptional unless it damn well was. I had no idea you could write so well.’
‘Perhaps I’ve been lacking the right motivation,’ Laurence murmured. ‘As regards Joanna, you were right to tell me I was the one who had to patch things up with her. I know now that it is my responsibility and I intend to take care of it. But if I let her leave here today without making at least some attempt to speak to her after what Sir Michael said, I fear it will only make matters worse.’
Theo nodded and removed his hand. ‘In that case, I will see you at the house later. It appears that we all have a great deal to talk about.’
* * *
Laurence caught up with Joanna as she was climbing into her carriage. ‘Lady Joanna, wait! I must speak with you.’
‘There is nothing to say,’ she said. ‘Can you not see how difficult this is for me? How mortified I am?’
‘But you have no reason to be mortified.’
‘Of course I do. Why do you think I came here today?’
‘I really don’t care—’
‘Well, I do,’ Joanna said unhappily. ‘I came because I didn’t believe you and because I wanted to find out the truth about Valentine Lawe. When I read that article in the paper this morning, I thought talking to Mr Templeton might give me the answer I needed...and it did. It gave me irrefutable evidence that you are exactly who you claim to be and that I have been wrong all along.’
‘Damn it, Joanna, you’re not wrong!’
‘Yes, I am,’ she said with quiet conviction. ‘Ever since we met in the Temple of the Muses, I have doubted you. I’ve questioned your integrity, challenged your commitment to archaeology and, worse, called you a liar to your face. Were I a man you could demand satisfaction, but as a woman, I can offer nothing but the most heartfelt apology. I should have known that a man as honourable and as honest as you would never pretend to be someone he was not.’
‘Joanna, please listen to me!’ Laurence said, needing to stem the flow of words in an effort to make her understand. ‘I know this isn’t a good time—’
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