Love Plays a Part

by Nina Coombs Pykare

  “Is there something we can bring you?” Samantha asked, looking around the bare room. “Have you food?”

  Maria nodded. “I got food a-plenty. Mrs. Tippen, she keeps it for me and heats it up.”

  “Are you warm enough? Do you need coal for the fire?”

  Maria shook her head. “No, there’s a boy that brings it round reglar. I’m well took care of, Samantha. “Don’t you worry none about me.”

  “Who done all this for you?” demanded Jake suddenly.

  “I ain’t allowed to say.” Maria’s face took on a closed expression. “He told me not to breathe a word to a living soul.”

  “Well, he ain’t swore me to no secrecy,” said Jake firmly. “And I think she ought to know.”

  Samantha looked from one to the other in bewilderment. “I don’t understand. What are you talking about?”

  “We’re talking ‘bout a certain lord,” said Jake, stubbornly ignoring Maria’s look of pleading. “A lord as brought Maria that there food and sends the boy with the coals.”

  “He’s gonna fly up in the boughs now,” said Maria with a groan. “He said he didn’t want her to know. ‘Specially her.”

  “I don’t care none.” Jake’s chin had set in an obvious outward thrust. “He allus tells that to them as he helps. And I understand why. He can’t have folks a-begging after him all the time. But she’s different.”

  “Jake! Maria!” Samantha felt like screaming and stamping her feet. “For heaven’s sake, will you tell me whom you’re talking about?”

  “You mean you ain’t guessed? Why, his lordship, of course,” said Jake with obvious satisfaction. “The Earl of Roxbury.”

  Samantha was stunned. “He - he helped Maria?”

  Jake shook his head in mock disgust. “Ain’t I been telling you that these five minutes past?”

  “But why?” Samantha was entirely confused. Never would she have supposed that the earl would do such a thing.

  Jake shook his head. “How’m I to know? His lordship don’t exactly tell me all his secrets.” He grinned. “But I know this. It ain’t the first time as he’s helped someone from the theatre. Tippen, he knows these things. Tippen, he tells me that whenever somebody leaves Drury Lane, somebody as has been there for a long time and done his or her work faithful and just can’t do no more, then his lordship or his steward is likely to show up and tell that poor old soul that he’s gonna get a certain amount of blunt ever week, and in the winter a boy’ll be coming round reglar with coals.” Jake’s eyes gleamed with the pleasure of his knowledge. “Tippen, he tells me he hisself knows more than a dozen old souls as is still in their bodies on account of his lordship.”

  Samantha sought a chair and sank into it. It seemed impossible. Except for his obvious understanding of the theatre, the earl had seemed to her a very shallow and superficial human being. This information cast startling new light on his character. It also caused a strange warm feeling in Samantha.

  Looking up, she found both Jake and Maria eyeing her. “It’s just so startling,” she said. “I never imagined his lordship to be a philanthropist.”

  “I didn’t say he were that,” declared Jake suspiciously. “I don’t know nothing ‘bout phil -phil-”

  “Philanthropist,” repeated Samantha. “It’s just a long name for someone who helps others. But why does he insist on keeping it secret? It would surely redound to his credit.”

  “But most of them high-flying folks thinks the poor ain’t no concern of theirs,” said Jake. “Like as not they’d think he had bats in his attic. And then, like I said, this here city is crawling with beggars of all kinds. He don’t want all them carrying on after him.”

  “But why did he insist that I shouldn’t know?”

  Jake shrugged. “Got to ask Maria that. I can’t say.”

  Maria’s face wrinkled into a frown of concentration. “He didn’t give me no reason,” she said. “But I figure it’s cause he’s after you. And knowing you for a tenderhearted creature, he don’t want nothing to turn your head. ‘Cepting hisself.”

  This idea was even more startling to Samantha than the previous one. Had she been asked, she would certainly have replied that the earl would use any means to attain his ends. Now this news had shaken all her previously conceived perceptions of him. Knowing more of his true character now, how was she to keep what was already a definite partiality from growing even stronger?

  “Well,” she said finally, “I guess there’s nothing I can do here.”

  Maria smiled. “You might stay awhile and talk. A body gets kind of lonesome setting all alone. Tell me, how did Macbeth go last night?”

  “I thought it went quite well,” said Samantha. “The new scenery was nearly perfect.”

  Jake nodded vigorously. “That there’s right. Lord Byron, he was sitting right beside me, he said it were the best scenery he ever laid eyes on. Said it most made him want to write a poem on it.”

  Samantha glanced at him sharply, but if Lord Byron had meant any irony in his statement, Jake had obviously failed to hear it.

  “Don’t think Samantha likes that poet over much,” observed Maria with a small smile.

  Samantha flushed. Perhaps she was being a little harsh. “I just think that Lord Byron is perhaps a little high-in-the-instep,” she said.

  Jake shook his head. “Not with me, he ain’t. Don’t I sit beside the man two, three times a week, and don’t he talk to me just like I was a buck of the first stare? No, sirree, that there Byron, he’s all right.”

  “Perhaps I just don’t know him very well,” conceded Samantha with a smile. “That appears to be the case with more than one person.”

  Jake accepted this vindication of his friend, and they continued to discuss the production of Macbeth.

  Finally, hearing the church bells ring in the distance, Samantha was surprised to discover how much time had passed. She rose. “My, it’s later than I thought. We must get home again or Hester will begin to worry about us.”

  Maria nodded. “It was real nice of you to come see me. I’m feeling much better.”

  “Please be sure to be careful,” warned Samantha. “Don’t come back to work before you’re better.”

  “Don’t you worry none,” said Maria. “I’m gonna take me a nap now, and then Mrs. Tippen’ll bring me up some soup. You go on home now. You been working hard and you need to rest.”

  “All right, Maria,” said Samantha, drawing her cloak about her. “Good-bye now.”

  When they reached the street, Jake paused to ask, “Shall I get another hack?”

  Samantha shook her head. “No, it’s not that far and the sun is shining. For a little while at least. Let’s walk.”

  “All right,” agreed Jake. “I like walking. It helps me think.”

  Samantha nodded. “That’s it, Jake. I’ve got something to think about and walking will help.”

  “I understand,” said Jake. “But if you’re thinking on what I think you’re thinking on, then you oughta say ‘Yes.’ “

  The look that this rather convoluted statement evoked from Samantha caused Jake to flush, but he refused to be cowed. “I got a right to my thoughts,” he said stubbornly.

  “And I to mine,” said Samantha crisply. “I do not wish to hear any more on the subject. Understand?”

  “I understand, all right,” said Jake rather cryptically and then fell silent.

  Samantha debated with herself. Should she ask Jake what he meant by his statement or should she just ignore it? Finally she chose the latter course. She simply could not bear any more pressure from anyone in regard to his lordship’s suit. Though she was definitely not on the catch for a husband, she was determined that she would not become his lordship’s highflier. If she had been made of different stuff, able to transfer her affections as the occasion dictated, perhaps she could have done like so many before her and benefited from a liaison with him. But she knew instinctively that such a life was not for her. For one thing, the more her partiality fo
r the earl increased, the more would she suffer when his passion waned, as inevitably passion did. The thought of his leaving her, after she had known his love, was far more devastating to contemplate than the infamy that their alliance might bring upon her. No, she thought as she walked along at Jake’s side, her cloak clutched against the wind, which, even though the sun shone, had a cold bite to it. What was she to do? She could not accept the earl’s offer and the shame it entailed. Nor did she want to leave her position at the theatre. There did not seem to be anything she could do, except keep on the way she had been and wait to see what happened.

  They reached the house in silence, and Samantha climbed the stairs and went into her room, leaving the explanations to Jake. She put the cloak on a chair and threw herself through the curtains onto the great old bed. There she lay, staring up at the ceiling of the canopy. What a bumble broth her life was in! Falling head over heels in love with a man of the first stare of fashion, a man fit to make an alliance with any woman in England. And she nothing more to him than a little country miss, a bit of muslin to brighten a few days and nights - as a schoolgirl might use a bright bit of ribbon before cheerfully discarding it. Samantha sighed. Never in her wildest dreams had she conjured up a situation like this. Why - she smiled wryly - this seemed like a plot for the master himself! What would Shakespeare have made of it? she wondered. Would he have made it a comedy? Or a tragedy? Right now, she thought, it seemed more than likely that it would be tragic.

  Then, as tears filled her eyes and rolled down her cheeks, she took herself severely in hand. This kind of thing would never do. She had come to London to fulfill a dream of longstanding. And she was doing just that. It was patently ridiculous to be so taken with a man, especially such a man as his lordship - on the town for many years, obviously wise in the ways of women and just as obviously unattached and determined to remain so.

  She sighed again and wiped at her eyes. It was utterly silly to feel so deeply about a man to whom such feelings were clearly foreign. She paused in her thoughts, considering what she had learned about his lordship this very morning. But then she frowned, and fresh tears began to rise. That his lordship was capable of feelings of compassion was surely a good thing, far more than she had expected of him, but it did not necessarily indicate that he was capable of feeling other emotions, such as love.

  A brisk knock on the door intruded into her thoughts. “Yes? What is it?”

  “It’s Hester. I got something to talk to you about.”

  Samantha wiped her face and sat up. “Come in.”

  Hester opened the door. “It’d be best if you’d come out into the sitting room. Jake’s out here too.”

  “All right,” said Samantha wearily. “I’ll be there in a minute.” Dipping a cloth in the basin of water, she wrung it out and wiped her face. She was being utterly addlepated, behaving like this. She intended to stop it this very instant.

  With another great sigh she moved out into the sitting room. Hester and Jake stood in the center of the worn carpet. They stood very close together, yet not touching, looking like two great children afraid they were about to be scolded. Even in her troubled state Samantha saw this. She sank into a chair. “All right, you two,” she said with an attempt at a smile, “what kind of scrape have you got yourselves into?”

  “Ain’t no scrape,” said Jake, but Hester silenced him with a look.

  “We ain’t in no trouble, Miss Samantha. It’s just, well -” The usually vocal Hester fell suddenly silent and looked again to Jake.

  He grinned broadly. “Ain’t no reason to make such a case ‘bout the thing. It’s real simple. Hester and me, we wants to get hitched.” As he said the last word, he put an arm around Hester’s waist and pulled her closer.

  Samantha was not surprised. For some time she had been aware of the growing liking and respect between the two. But lately she had been so wrapped up in her strange and growing feelings for the earl that she had given little thought to her servants.

  “I told her you weren’t going to make no fuss,” said Jake. “But she said she won’t do it lessen you give us the go-ahead.” His smile began to fade slightly as Samantha remained silent.

  Finally she summoned her wits. “Of course, it’s fine,” she said. “I’m very pleased for both of you.”

  Hester, whose features had been set grimly, broke into the biggest smile Samantha had ever seen, and her arm stole out hesitantly to encircle Jake’s waist. “Thank you, Miss Samantha. I wouldn’t never have done it if you said no.” She sent Jake a shy look. “Much as I’m taken with this here man, I know my duty. And I promised your papa on his deathbed, I did, that I’d never leave you long as I live.”

  “And now I ain’t gonna leave you neither,” said Jake proudly.

  Samantha tried to speak, but a great lump had risen in her throat, and then tears took over again. She jumped to her feet and ran sobbing into Hester’s open arms.

  While the two women cried on each other’s shoulders, Jake stood by, shaking his grizzled head. “Ain’t never going to understand women. They cries when they’s sad and they cries when they’s happy. Just don’t make no sense at all.”

  Chapter 14

  The first few days of the next week passed quickly. Maria returned to work on Tuesday, and Samantha, very pleased to see her, did all she could to ease the older woman’s work. Finally Maria expostulated with her. “You ain’t got to scurry round like that,” she said. “I ain’t been all that sick.” She grinned. “And it don’t take that much energy to push a needle in and out, you know.”

  “Yes, I know.” Samantha smiled in reply. “But I don’t want you to overdo it.”

  “I ain’t going to,” replied Maria firmly. “Now just sit down and take it easy for a spell. Did you hear the news?”

  Samantha settled into a chair and picked up a piece of sewing. “No, what news?”

  “Lily Porter’s leaving the company.” Maria’s black eyes regarded her shrewdly, waiting for a reaction.

  “In the middle of the season?” Samantha said the first thing that came into her head. “How will she get another place at this time of year?” She was conscious of feelings of fear and relief; mixed together as they were, it was difficult to sort them out.

  “She says she’s leaving the stage,” Maria continued.

  Samantha shook her head. “Leaving the stage? But why?” For a moment she wondered if the earl had ignored her plea and had Lily dismissed.

  “She says she’s found what she was after.” Maria’s tone indicated that she found the whole thing quite ordinary. “She says a big lord is setting her up. A neat little establishment. Plenty of gowns and jewels. But he wants her off the stage. He don’t like having his possessions eyed by all them ordinary folks.”

  Samantha swallowed over the sudden lump in her throat. “Did she - did she name the lord?”

  Maria shook her head. “No, she’s been real coy ‘bout it. Won’t tell his name. Says she ain’t allowed.”

  So it had finally happened. He had tired of her rebuffs; he was going to console himself with little Lily! Well, good riddance to the both of them, she thought crossly. They deserved each other.

  A very small voice in her head kept insisting that Roxbury would never take up with Lily when he was sure she was responsible for that attack. But then another, stronger voice replied that perhaps such things were of no matter to men like the earl, who were concerned only with gratifying their own desires. Perhaps his indignation had been entirely spurious, put on to convince her to acquiesce. But, countered the first voice, what of the earl’s help to Maria? Surely that indicated a man of some character.

  “Are you sick, Samantha?” asked Maria. “You look awful funny.”

  Samantha shook her head. “No, no. I’m fine. It’s - it’s just a surprise.”

  “You ain’t by chance thinking this lord is Roxbury?”

  In the face of Maria’s obvious concern Samantha could not lie. “I - it may well be.”

  M
aria shook her head. “I don’t believe it none. The earl, he’s got sense. He wouldn’t never get involved with a piece like that.”

  “What has sense to do with it?” asked a confused Samantha.

  Maria smiled. “Roxbury ain’t above trifling a little here and there, like any lord. But he’s too smart to fall into the clutches of a dasher like Lily. She’s just out to get someone well-larded. His lordship knows that. Don’t you worry none.”

  Samantha started visibly. “Worry? Why should I worry? His lordship is nothing to me.” She pricked her finger and winced.

  “Here now,” said Maria, swiftly changing the subject. “I most forgot. Mr. Kean wants you to fix his costume for Macbeth. He says he ripped a seam t’other night during the battle scene.”

  Samantha laid aside the gown she was working on. “I’ll go right away.”

  “Now, if the man wants to talk,” Maria added as Samantha reached the door, “why you just tarry awhile and let him. He gets lonely, that’s all.”

  As she made her way down the corridor, Samantha mused again about a man like Kean being lonely when every person of consequence in the entire city would be pleased to spend time with him. She knocked softly.

  “Come in.” The brusqueness of his tone immediately informed her that his mood was not the best. She pushed open the door.

  “It’s me. Maria said you had something that needs mending.”

  Kean looked up from the script he was studying and smiled bitterly. “Ah, Samantha. If only your nimble fingers could mend other things.”

  She moved closer, not quite understanding. “What needs mending?”

  “How about my soul?” he asked.

  Samantha felt a shiver go over her. Kean was clearly in one of his bad moods. “No one but God can mend souls,” she said softly.

  Kean’s eyes seemed agonized as he regarded her. “Always the innocent, aren’t you, Samantha?” He shook his dark head. “I believe I was never as innocent as you are now.”