The Notorious Mr. Hurst
Page 18
The set drew to an end at last, Maude dropped a hasty curtsy to her partner and craned to see where Jessica was. She would go to her now—but, no, at the far end she could see her on Gareth’s arm. Leaving.
Maude felt like fleeing the ballroom too, but something—stubborn pride? The need to be in Eden’s arms one more time?—kept her there, dancing and chatting and smiling. When he came to claim her hand for the last dance, Maude was ready to drop.
‘Do you want to dance?’ he asked, pausing at the edge of the floor. ‘You look…tired.’
‘A gentleman should not say such things to a lady,’ she said in a rallying tone. ‘We are always radiant.’
‘Well, I am not a gentleman and you are not radiant.’ He turned back and led her to an alcove. ‘Let us stay here, in plain view. Besides, I have something to give you.’
‘You have?’ He was taking something from the pocket in the tails of his coat, a dark morocco jewellery box. Maude’s heart turned over with a thump. ‘Eden—’
‘I put it in this because otherwise I would be sure to sit on it and squash it,’ he explained, placing the box in her hand. Maude opened it. Inside, nestling on red plush, was one marchpane sweetmeat. Her heart thumped back to its normal location. ‘You did not eat any at supper,’ he explained, his face serious. ‘I came away from the jewellers with that box empty because I had taken a pair of Madame’s earrings to be cleaned.’
Maude looked down at the small yellow-and-green confection and then up at his face. For one startled moment she had thought he was going to give her jewellery and instead he had given her marchpane.
‘Sugar’s good for the nerves,’ Eden added, his eyes smiling into hers. ‘We make sure nervous actresses drink sweet tea.’
‘That was very thoughtful, thank you,’ she said, meaning it. He had remembered that she liked it. Something out of the corner of her eye made her turn her head. ‘Oh dear, people are looking.’
‘They think I am about to fall to one knee, perhaps, and they are ready to faint with shock or rush forward to rescue you,’ he said sardonically. ‘I suggest you eat it immediately, which will confuse them, if nothing else.’
Maude popped the sweet into her mouth, shook the dusting of sugar out of the box and handed it back. The curious onlookers turned away, some of them smiling. That fast Lady Maude again! She could almost hear them saying it.
‘Now, let us dance,’ she said, laying her hand on his arm. ‘I think we waltz rather well together.’
‘You feeling all right, my lady?’ Anna placed the breakfast tray on Maude’s knees and peered at her. ‘You look proper peaky this morning.’
‘I didn’t sleep very well.’ That was an understatement; she doubted if she had slept a wink all night.
‘I knew I should have let you lie in, no matter what you said,’ the maid pronounced, pulling back the drapes. ‘Eight o’clock is no time to be getting up the morning after a ball. You’ve got dark circles under your eyes.’
‘I must see Lady Standon first thing this morning,’ Maude said, wrapping her fingers tightly round her chocolate cup for the comfort of the heat. She had to make thing right with Jessica. ‘And then we will go to the theatre.’
There was a noise from the landing. Rainbow appeared to be arguing with someone, which was unprecedented.
‘Anna, go and see what on earth is going on…’ Maude began, but the maid was already round the screen that shielded the bed from the door.
‘Oh, Lady Standon! But my lady said she was coming to call on you this morning…’
‘You see, Rainbow. I knew Lady Maude would be awake, so you can stop looking starchy and let me in,’ Jessica said firmly. ‘Anna, I want a private word with your mistress.’
Maude put down her cup and slid out of bed. ‘Jessica?’
‘Oh, my dear!” Her friend flew round the screen and caught her in a warm embrace. ‘I’ve been perfectly miserable—how are you?’
‘Miserable too. Jessica, I am so sorry, I should never have said you were hypocritical, or mentioned that morning, or been cross at all. I know you are worried about me.’
‘Oh, I am!’ Jessica sat down on the edge of the bed, her arm around Maude’s shoulders. ‘But I wouldn’t tell Lord Pangbourne, I promise.’
‘I know. Jessica, I should have listened to you and Bel—it’s like riding a tiger, isn’t it? How do you get off it again safely?’
‘What is?’ Jessica was looking bemused.
‘Sex,’ Maude said bluntly. ‘I thought there was kissing. And then there was bed and he’d…you know. I didn’t know there was all that stuff in the middle! How on earth do you think with that going on?’
‘You’re not supposed to,’ Jessica said, unsuccessfully fighting a smile.
‘But I need to think, I need to plan and see what is happening and judge how he’s feeling. And when he…we…My mind just turned to jelly.’
‘Maude, you can’t do this like planning a complicated social event, with a list for this and that and things to be done that will get you a result. Either the man falls in love with you—and Heaven help you both if he does—or he doesn’t. Now tell me, what exactly happened?’
Looking back, it wasn’t all very clear, but blushing rosily, Maude did her best to explain.
‘Oh, my,’ Jessica murmured. ‘Well, I take back what I said about him—the man has enviable self-control. Now listen, I am going to be very, very frank about things because I do not want you being taken by surprise again. Not,’ she added, ‘that I hope you ever find yourself in that situation with a man you aren’t married to.’
‘You did,’ Maude pointed out.
‘I married him, and very eligible he is too,’ Jessica retorted. ‘Now listen, and if you do not understand, ask me questions.’ She looked around. ‘But ring for a jug of chocolate first, I am going to need it.’
‘Her ladyship’s back, Guv’nor.’ Howard put his head round the office door. ‘Bloody hell, you look rough this morning.’
Eden growled and put down his pen. ‘Send someone with some hot water.’ She was here? The day after the ball? After what had happened? ‘What’s she doing?’ he called after the stage manager.
‘Prowling up and down the aisles with a tape measure, a notebook and that maid Anna. I’ll send Millie with the water.’
Eden stripped to the waist and took his shaving gear from the cupboard. The face that glowered back at him from the glass had a heavy growth of stubble, dark circles under its eyes and hair that had been raked by his fingers into wild disarray. Perhaps he should walk out looking like this, then she would see the real him, the unworthy, uncivilised creature under the veneer.
There was a tap on the door, Millie came in, gave a started squeak, set down the hot water jug and scuttled out. Eden set to work restoring the image he so carefully cultivated: controlled, polished, unapproachable and impregnable. The razor slid through the soap foam on his face, slicing away the whiskers, leaving a clean, smooth track in its wake. If only he could cut away last night as easily. But Maude was under his skin now, too deep to reach without cuts that would be agonising.
When he was finished, hair slicked back, neckcloth tied, he strode out of the room without giving himself time to think.
Maude was on stage, bent over the table, drawing on a large sheet of paper. He walked silently across and looked over her shoulder. It was a rough plan of the theatre. ‘Good afternoon, Mr Hurst,’ she said, running her pencil carefully along a ruler’s edge. He could have sworn he had made no sound.
‘Good afternoon, Lady Maude.’ She turned her head, her hands still resting on the table, and smiled up at him and he realised what had been making him dizzy all those times he had thought himself unwell. Maude. She looked tired, but the unhappiness had gone from the depths of those big hazel eyes. ‘Have you made up your quarrel with Lady Standon?’
‘Yes—how did you know?’
‘You don’t look sad any more. Your friends are important to you, aren’t they?’
Maude straightened up, put her fists into the small of her back and stretched. ‘I had a note from Bel—Lady Dereham—she has taken your Miss Hunter under her wing, says she does not deserve to be a wallflower and she intends to promote her as an original. Bel also says I am to congratulate you upon your perspicacity.’
‘Miss Hunter?’ He stared blankly at her. ‘Oh, the gawky girl.’
‘Yes, the one you picked on as a stalking horse in order to follow me round the dance floor glaring at Sir Frederick,’ Maude said severely. ‘I shall not disillusion Bel and tell her you ruthlessly scooped up the nearest unfortunate young woman.’
She turned back to her plan, sucking the end of her pencil until he removed it from her. ‘You’ll make your tongue black. What are you doing?’
‘Planning out the tables and so on for the special event. We’ll have to think of a name for it. Which blocks of seating may I have removed?’
‘Let me see.’ He joined her, shoulder to shoulder, at the table. ‘I see you have drawn sight-lines in. We could take these and these, put the buffet tables here, the string band in this large box here…’
Somehow, working on such a practical task with Eden, the restraint between them eased. They sat on stage while the work of the theatre went on, sketching, thrashing out problems, occasionally getting up to measure something or go down into the stalls to check the view.
Maude felt warm, happily relaxed with him and he did not seem to try to avoid touching her, or appear awkward with her. Whether that meant that he simply discounted what had happened and could put it behind him, or whether he was a far better actor than he had let her suspect, she did not know. It was simply happiness to be with him like this, doing something practical, seeing his mind work, watching those big, sensitive hands as he sketched out ideas in the air or on paper.
‘We’ll need the stage in ten minutes or so, Guv’nor.’ It was one of the hands, standing looking up at them from the orchestra pit. ‘Got to get set up for this evening.’
‘Lord, is that the time?’ Eden was sitting on the edge of the table, legs swinging, hair loose on his shoulders, as relaxed as she had ever seen him. A pang of love and longing struck Maude with almost painful intensity. She must have made a sound, for he turned his head to look at her and their eyes locked. There was that look again in the dark depths, the look that made her breath hitch in her throat and her pulse stutter.
‘Eden—’
‘Late afternoon post, Guv’nor.’ It was Millie, balancing a pile of correspondence.
‘Put it in the office,’ Eden snapped. ‘I am working with Lady Maude.’ The moment, and whatever it had held, was gone.
‘It is all right,’ Maude said. ‘We have finished for today, after all. Please, make sure there isn’t anything important.’
Eden tossed the pile on to the table and sorted through it rapidly. At the bottom, a large letter on thick paper covered in seals crackled importantly. He ran his thumb under the wax, sending red fragments flying, and smoothed it out. Something about the quality of his stillness caught Maude’s attention as he scanned the letter again and then a third time.
‘Is something wrong?’ she asked, unable to bear the suspense any longer.
‘Wrong? No, far from it. It is the agents for the Unicorn. The owner has died and they ask if I wish them to approach the heir with an offer to purchase.’
‘Who is it?’ Maude came to his side and put her hand on his forearm. Under the fabric of the sleeve she could feel a vibration. It seemed to pulse up her arm, infecting her with his tension.
‘They do not yet know. The solicitor dealing with the will is to write—they expect to know in a week or so.’ He looked up, his eyes burning with a fierce excitement. ‘They will sell, surely? Why should they want a theatre? It is something you set out to acquire, not something you keep if it comes to you by accident.’
‘You are right, most people would want to realise the asset as soon as possible, especially if they have an inheritance to deal with. Oh, Eden, I’m so pleased for you—the Unicorn, yours, at last.’
‘I must not count on it, not until it is certain,’ he said soberly, then caught her eye and grinned. ‘Oh, to hell with caution! Maude, it is going to be mine, I know it.’ And the next thing she knew he caught her around the waist, lifted her in the air and was whirling around the stage in dizzying circles, laughing up at her. ‘Yes, yes, yes!’
Maude laughed back, safe with his hands spanning her waist, safe with his strong back holding her up, as dizzy as he was with joy.
‘What on earth are you about, darling?’ The trained voice from the wings brought Eden to a halt, the laughter dying out of his face. Slowly he lowered Maude to the floor, released her and stepped back. ‘Auditioning for the corps de ballet?’ Madame Marguerite enquired, strolling on to the stage. The feathers in her hat swept down to the shoulder of her deep plum-coloured gown, diamonds winked and flashed at ears and throat, her skirts swished across the boards. She looked, quite simply, magnificent and Maude, her hair in her eyes and her skirts in disarray, felt like a thirteen-year-old romp caught playing with the village boys.
‘Celebrating,’ Eden said flatly.
‘I hardly dare ask what, darling,’ Madame said, running a critical eye up and down Maude’s tousled figure. ‘But it is Lady Maude, is it not?’
‘Madame,’ Maude rejoined politely, resisting the urge to tug at her skirts and push back her hair. She was not going to react like a naughty schoolgirl, whatever the provocation.
‘Well now, and when were you going to tell me this happy news?’ Madame Marguerite enquired. ‘I do feel, Eden darling, that a quiet word would have been more appropriate—every stage-hand must know by now.’
Oh, my God! She thinks we have become betrothed, Maude thought, hardly knowing where to look. Of all the hideously embarrassing misunderstandings.
‘I saw no point in telling you until we know the theatre is definitely on the market,’ Eden said. Whether he had understood what his mother had assumed, Maude could not tell, but she could only admire the delivery of the line.
The actress produced an exaggerated start of surprise. ‘The theatre?’ she enquired, in ringing tones, managing to make three dramatic syllables out of the word.
‘Yes.’ Eden began to gather up the letters. ‘The owner has died and the agents are finding out if the new owner will sell.’
Madame appeared momentarily speechless; not a state, Maude guessed, she was often reduced to. It did not last long. ‘Eden darling, a word, if you please.’ She swept Maude with a look that was assessing and speculative. ‘Lady Maude,’ she said coolly, before she swept off stage.
‘I must be going.’ Maude tidied her hair by touch. ‘Anna!’
‘Here, my lady.’ The maid hurried out of the wings with Maude’s muff and bonnet. ‘I’ve called the carriage, my lady, seeing what the time is.’
‘Thank you.’ Maude looked across at Eden, his face as cool and unreadable as it usually was. ‘I will see to the invitations, which will take a day or so. Shall we call it The Unicorn Musicale?’ He nodded, unsmiling. He must be thinking about Madame’s false assumption that they were betrothed. He would be feeling trapped by that, coming so close on the realisation of how much she desired him.
There was an ache inside her, not just embarrassment, but something else. The sudden change in him hurt, she realised. Whenever she believed they were getting close, Eden brought down an intangible barrier and retreated behind it. Was he truly so unable to love, to make
himself open to another person, to trust her enough to make himself vulnerable? She needed love, and she would sacrifice everything for that. But lack of it would kill her spirit, she knew it. It would be better to put some distance between them, just for a little while.
‘I…I may not come to the theatre for a day or so, there is so much to do for this. I will send notes, of course. And you will let me know if there is any news?’
‘Of course.’ He agrees so readily, he is relieved that I am going. Her heart sank a little. ‘I will see you at the special committee meeting we arranged for planning the event?’
‘Next week? Yes, of course. Goodbye, Eden.’ Maude paused, tying her bonnet strings. ‘I’ll be thinking about the Unicorn, and wishing you luck.’
Chapter Seventeen
‘Madame?’ Eden closed the door of his office behind him and went to sit in the high carved chair. He felt decidedly unfit for dealing with his mother in one of her moods. His body was still jangling with nerves and arousal from being around Maude, the thought that he might have the chance to buy the theatre was threatening to fill his brain to the exclusion of all else, and, on top of it all, his leading lady was leaping to quite ridiculous conclusions.
‘What are your intentions towards Lady Maude Templeton?’ she enquired.
‘Intentions? To continue with my existing partnership with her. Her insights are useful and I find the charity work she has involved me with surprisingly interesting,’ he said coolly, instinct warning him against allowing Madame any hint of his feelings.
‘Don’t try to cut a sham with me, Eden. Any fool with half an eye can see the pair of you are like April and May,’ Marguerite retorted. ‘Are you sleeping with her?’
‘No.’ Eden got a tight rein on his temper. ‘You are speaking about an unmarried lady of quality.’ It was probably not the most tactful of observations to make to someone who had been a lady of quality herself, before she had turned her back on her family and her chances of a respectable marriage.