Love Plays a Part

by Nina Coombs Pykare

  “What about that piece of her dress in your hand?” the actor demanded.

  “She was upset before this accident.” The earl shrugged coolly. “The gown is old, and when she jerked away from me, it tore. You need have no fear on that score,” he continued. “I would not hurt Samantha for all the world.”

  Kean nodded sagely. “There’s ways and ways of hurting a woman,” he said. “I’ve seen you backstage with Samantha, playing up to her. It’s plain you want something from her. Ah, yes.” He rolled his eyes suggestively. “It’s plain as day you’ve got dishonorable intentions in regard to this young woman.”

  By now Samantha had conquered her tears and was watching the scene with frightened eyes. The earl could be dangerous when crossed but now, to her relief, he seemed determined to humor the bosky actor.

  Roxbury smiled dryly and shrugged his well-clad shoulders. “Of course I do. What other kind should I have?”

  Kean considered this for some moments. “There are other kinds,” he said firmly. Behind the earl’s back Samantha shook her head at Kean. He mustn’t tell Roxbury the truth. He simply mustn’t. She gestured frantically, but Kean went right on. “You should treat Samantha with more respect,” he continued.

  The earl was regarding him closely. “What do you mean, more respect?”

  “I mean just what I say.” In spite of all Samantha’s headshakes and frantic entreaties, Kean went on. “Samantha’s not just any young woman. She’s got good blood.” Samantha saw the earl’s back stiffen at this piece of news. “She could be moving about in the ton if she liked.”

  Samantha felt her knees go weak again. It was only by the greatest effort that she remained on her feet. Slowly Roxbury turned to face her. His dark eyes regarded her critically for some moments. Finally he spoke. “Samantha, is this man telling me the truth?”

  She wanted to deny it, to shake her head and hold on to her old life, but before the power of those dark eyes she was helpless. “Yes, milord,” she whispered. “He is.”

  “Then why have you been masquerading as a poor girl from the country?” he asked curtly.

  “My father was ill - for nine years.” Samantha stumbled through the story. “To pass the time I read to him. The plays of Shakespeare and some others.” She paused for breath, and Roxbury nodded, his eyes, dark and burning, fastened on her face. Samantha hastened on. “When he died, I decided to come to the city to see the plays we’d been reading. I took the job here because it allowed me to be backstage, to become a part of the theatre.”

  “And to make a fool of me,” he said crisply, those dark brows gathered in a fierce frown. “Was it because of what I said at the inn?”

  “No! No! I didn’t know you frequented the theatre. I was afraid if you found out my real status I’d lose my position here. And with it my dream of being part of the theatre.” She stood quivering beneath the glare of his eyes.

  “I see. So I have been treating a lady as if she were -” He paused as though searching for a word.

  “A common trollop?” suggested Kean with drunken helpfulness.

  Samantha winced, and the earl’s mouth tightened grimly. “As though she were something else,” he continued, ignoring the actor. He stroked his chin thoughtfully. “This, then, is the reason for the highly vaunted principles. I suppose I should have suspected something,” he said, almost to himself. “There were too many incongruities.” He paused and drew himself formally erect. “I find, Miss Everett, that I have acted very boorishly. I humbly apologize and I assure you that in the future I shall treat you with the proper respect.”

  Samantha did not quite know how to receive this. She was concerned over his earlier accusation. “I did not set out to deceive you,” she said, her heart beating wildly. “I am truly sorry that I did.”

  The earl bowed gracefully, but his eyes did not lose their cold, hard glitter. “I will accept your apology, Miss Everett,” he said, still in that stiff, formal tone, “if you will accept mine.”

  “Of course,” replied Samantha, hardly knowing what she said. This new aspect of the earl seemed quite strange to her. It was almost as though they had never known each other at all, as though he were speaking to a complete stranger, and one he did not even like!

  Looking down, Roxbury perceived the piece of dress lying by his feet. “Order a new gown,” he said, kicking it aside. “And have your solicitor send mine the bill.” He bowed once more and strode away.

  Samantha leaned trembling against the wall. She could not believe that this formal creature was the same man who had kissed her with such impassioned fervor only minutes before.

  Kean, who had been watching with great interest, came slowly toward her. “There now,” he said with obvious satisfaction. “I guess he won’t be bothering you again. I guess I told him a thing or two.”

  Samantha nodded. She was too tired and Kean was too bosky to carry this business any further. Besides, what good would it do to scold him now for revealing her secret? The damage was done; Roxbury knew the truth.

  She took the arm that Kean offered her. “I wager you’ll be glad to get rid of the pest,” said the actor as he led her away on legs nearly as unsteady as her own.

  Again Samantha nodded. It was of no use to tell Kean that she loved the man who had stalked away, his pride mortally wounded.

  “Whyn’t you come in and have a little drink?” asked Kean.

  Samantha pulled her arm free. “I have things to do, Ned. I must mend my gown. Goodnight.”

  Alone in the corridor, Samantha picked up the piece of material and set out at once for the work room. She did not really intend to mend the gown; it was old and could be discarded. She had used that only as an excuse to escape Kean and his self-congratulations.

  She was not exactly sure how this disclosure would affect her relationship with the earl, but his behavior this evening did not seem encouraging. She sighed as she entered the work room and reached for her cloak. She was just tired. Exhausted, really. So much had happened in the last few days. She needed some time and some peace to sort it all out. She sat down in the darkness, determined to do just that, but the room was so still and her body so fatigued that almost before she knew it she’d drifted off to sleep.

  It was Maria’s voice that called her back. “Samantha, Samantha. Are you all right?”

  She opened her eyes and saw Maria bent over her and Jake’s worried face just behind her. “I’m fine, Maria. I just dozed off.” She was careful to keep the cloak tight around her. She did not want to have to explain a torn sleeve to either of them. She stood up. “Is the afterpiece finished?”

  Jake nodded. “It weren’t much good. Nor the play neither.” His face took on a strange expression. “Mr. Kean, he’s just so good I can’t get myself worked up over them other fellows.”

  Samantha nodded. “Well, Jake, I guess we’d better get going. Hester will be waiting.”

  “Yeah,” Jake replied. “We don’t want to keep no one waiting, do we?” The mischief in his eyes told Samantha clearly that it was not Hester he was talking about. She swallowed a sigh. She could not get over the feeling that Kean’s revelation had forever changed things between her and the earl. She could not say how they were changed. That would have to come later, she thought wearily as she bade Maria good night and followed Jake down the corridor to the stage door.

  Jake stepped out and surveyed the street. He stood in puzzled concentration for several minutes while Samantha stood shivering beside him, the cold forgotten in the knowledge that was slowly forcing itself upon her. The familiar carriage with the Roxbury crest was nowhere in sight. They stood waiting just a little longer to be sure, and then Samantha said, “Come, Jake, let’s go home.”

  She had her answer, she thought as she stumbled along the pavement, blinking back tears. Things were changed between her and the earl, all right. Things between them were over. Finished.

  Chapter 16

  The days and nights that followed seemed to run into one long blur. At wo
rk Samantha did what her job called for; she stitched and delivered and waited in the wings. At home she ate and talked, went to bed and got up. But none of it seemed real. It was like some kind of a dream - actually a nightmare - in which a vital part of herself was missing. If only she could wake up some morning and find herself once again heart-whole. Perhaps time was the answer. She told herself so often during the day. But still the days turned into weeks and the weeks into a month, and the pain and sense of loss seemed just as great as ever.

  Every night she told herself that she would not peek out between the curtains at the earl’s box, but every night she did. And every night the box was empty. The Earl of Roxbury came no more to Drury Lane.

  Each night as they trudged home through the snow Samantha forced herself to keep her gaze on the ground. But in that first moment when they came out the door, she could not stop her eyes from going of their own accord to the place where his carriage had waited.

  Samantha grew paler and paler, thinner and thinner. Hester scolded crossly, but Samantha could only reply, “I’m just not hungry.” When Hester pressed, as old Maria did, to know what was bothering her, she simply shook her head and insisted that nothing was wrong; she was just a little under the weather.

  November moved into December. The weather grew worse and so did Samantha. Still Roxbury stayed away from the theatre. And then, just before Christmas, Rae and Miss Walstein opened in Jane Shore. Samantha, looking out over the house, bit back an exclamation of surprise. There in his box sat Roxbury. Her heart leaped into her throat at the sight of him. She recognized the richly clad woman beside him as Harriette’s sister, Amy. As Samantha watched, the woman leaned toward Roxbury and smiled. Sudden tears filled Samantha’s eyes. She could have been sitting there, close to the man she loved, basking in his smiles, if only she hadn’t stuck to her principles. Reason tried to tell her, as it had before, that such happiness was all too often short-lived, but this time reason was too weak to prevail. With a sigh Samantha admitted to herself that if the earl came backstage now and asked for what he had before, her terrible longing to be with him would more than likely have conquered everything else, principles included.

  But he was not going to come backstage, she reminded herself as she let the curtain fall shut. He was not going to come near her at all. She had to blink rapidly for some minutes to keep back the tears that this thought prompted. She just needed time, she told herself. More time and she would be able to forget him. Surely there would come a day in which every time she closed her eyes his face did not appear, a day when she could no longer remember the strong line of his jaw or the way his dark hair curled over his collar, a day when those dark eyes would no longer probe hers in imagination. Surely, given enough time, she could even forget the feel of his arms as he held her and the beat of his heart under her ear.

  But when? When? her aching heart demanded. And she had no answers. She could not ask Hester, whose plain face had taken on a new radiance with her marriage to Jake. Nor could she ask old Maria. She did not want to burden her friends with her sorrows.

  But during intermission that night, as she was making her way back to the work room for a forgotten item, Kean’s door opened and he motioned her inside. With a sigh Samantha obeyed. Actually she didn’t want to talk to anyone; she simply wanted to go home and sleep. Sleep was her only refuge now. Sometimes even it failed.

  Kean frowned. “Whatever it is that’s wrong,” he said gruffly, “I want to know.”

  “Nothing’s wrong.”

  Kean’s frown deepened. “That’s a lie. The biggest Banbury tale I’ve heard in months. Now, Miss Samantha Everett, I want the truth. Why are you moping around like someone half dead?”

  Suddenly Samantha felt too tired to lie. Besides, it would be a relief to speak of this pain. “First, you must promise not to tell Hester or Maria,” she said. “I don’t want to worry them.”

  “They’re worried already,” said Kean, “but never mind. I won’t tell them. Now go on.”

  Samantha took a deep breath. “It’s - that is, I -” She hesitated.

  “Go on, girl,” urged Kean. “Give me the story.”

  “You know how Roxbury hung around me. And you know what he wanted.”

  Kean nodded. “But he hasn’t bothered you since he learned the truth.”

  “That’s just it. I - I had already formed a partiality for him, a great partiality. I didn’t really know it until the night he - learned the truth. And I haven’t seen him since. I just don’t know what to do. Nothing is right. Food tastes like straw, the plays are dull, and part of me seems to have died.”

  “I see.” Kean looked serious. “Just let me think a little.” He spent the next few minutes in deep thought. Then he smiled. “I have it!”

  “Have what?” asked Samantha.

  “A plan for you. After all, though you were kind enough not to say so, I was responsible for the earl’s discovering the truth. I was pretty far in my cups, I admit, but I didn’t expect him to behave like this.”

  “It’s not your fault,” said Samantha. “He was never in the market for a wife. And now he’s not looking for a light-skirt either. At least, not in me.”

  “Well,” said Kean, “maybe we can fix that.”

  “How?”

  “This is what you do. You send the earl a note -”

  “I can’t do that!” Her faint hope subsided.

  Kean looked stern. “Let me finish what I was telling you. Then you can tell me what you think.”

  Samantha nodded.

  “All right. Now, in your note you tell him that you’ve decided to look for a husband.” His warning hand silenced her protest. “Naturally you want to look among the ton, and since you have no experience, you thought to ask his advice.”

  Samantha could keep still no longer. “But how will that help?”

  “First, it will get you in his lordship’s presence.”

  “But I don’t want to marry anyone else. I want to be with him!” Samantha cried.

  “I know that,” said Kean. “And so do you. But the earl will not. At least not until you begin to refuse his suggestions. Then the obvious may occur to him.”

  Samantha felt herself coloring up. “And if it doesn’t?”

  “Then you have lost nothing.”

  Samantha considered this.

  “Just realize what you are doing, Samantha,” the actor said. “This step, once taken, cannot be reversed.”

  “I know. But I need him so much. Oh, Ned! What shall I do?”

  Kean shook his head. “I’m a man, Samantha. All my study of human nature can’t help me think or feel like a woman. You’re the only one who can make a decision like this.”

  Samantha’s head dropped into her hands. “Oh, Ned, I should have stayed in Dover. Then none of this would have happened.”

  “Samantha Everett!” Kean was plainly disturbed. “You know better than to talk like that. People have to fight for what they want.”

  “At least before I had a kind of contentment. Now I’m miserable.”

  “Come on, Samantha,” Kean said urgently. “You’re miserable because you’re waiting around for others to fix your life. Take things into your own hands. Do something.”

  “But if it doesn’t work?” she wailed.

  “Then do something else. You’ve got to keep trying. Now, here’s a pen and paper. You write the note, and I’ll get a boy to deliver it.”

  “But Ned!”

  “Do you love him?”

  She nodded. “Then trust me, Samantha. Give my plan a try.”

  Samantha pulled up a chair to the table and dazedly set to work. Ten minutes later she surveyed the finished document and heaved a great sigh.

  “Read it aloud,” said Kean. “We can catch any mistakes better that way.”

  Obediently Samantha read. “To the Earl of Roxbury. Dear Sir, I have recently come to a big decision in my life. I have decided to enter the venerable institution of marriage. However, being a stranger t
o all the ton except yourself, I thought I might presume upon our brief acquaintance to the extent of asking your opinion in the matter. If you are willing to advise me in this undertaking, please tell me when we might meet to discuss it. Most sincerely, Samantha Everett.”

  Kean nodded. “Very good, Samantha. You should have written plays.”

  This brought a feeble smile to her lips. “Don’t be silly, Ned. This is just an ordinary letter.”

  “But you turn such an elegant phrase.”

  “Please, Ned, don’t tease me. It’s one thing to write the letter. But what if he agrees to see me?”

  “You just repeat what’s in the letter and then play it by ear.”

  Samantha shivered. The thought of being in Roxbury’s presence again was both exciting and frightening. How could she bear it if he looked at her out of those dark eyes grown suddenly cold and refused her request? But if he refused to see her, said the voice of reason, she would merely get a cold note in return, not an interview. And if he consented to see her - Her mind could not carry her much beyond that. The thought of just being close to him seemed to send her blood racing. If he offered again to set her up in keeping, she would accept him, she thought, suppressing a sigh. Life like this was no life at all.

  Kean nodded. “Now seal it. Here’s my candle and wax. I’ll have a boy deliver it to his box.”

  “But she’s there,” said Samantha. “Amy.”

  Kean shrugged. “Do you imagine the earl lets his women read his letters? Besides, Amy’s been off again on again with Roxbury for these many years. Theirs is a purely business arrangement.”

  A sudden shiver overtook Samantha. Was that what she would have with the earl - a purely business arrangement? The thought was fraught with suffering to come. Why, she wondered, couldn’t she moderate her behavior? Why must she feel so strongly about Roxbury? So strongly that it really seemed that there was no point in living without him? With trembling hands she dropped the wax on the fold of the paper.