The Angel and the Rake

by Barbara Cartland

She pulled it down and brought it back to Angela.

  “Now put this on,” she said, “and bring the veil down well over your face.”

  While Nelly had been reaching for the hat, Angela had been putting on the dress that she had come in.

  Nelly, suddenly aware of what she was doing, gave a screech of horror.

  “You’re not goin’ out in them rags!” she said. “What am I thinkin’ of? I must be losin’ me mind!”

  She looked at the others as if it was their fault.

  “A travellin’ gown!” she said. “Somethin’ very attractive, but not in white. Young, very young!”

  They ran as quickly as they could and came back with two outfits that Nelly looked at in disdain.

  But Angela thought that they were the most attractive she had ever seen.

  One was of silk with a skirt that touched the ground and had two rows of frills round the bottom of it.

  The fitted coatee ended at the waist and was encircled by a sash. It was of the same blue which Nelly had chosen for her riding habit.

  When she put it on, she knew at once that never in her whole life had she looked smarter or appeared to have such an elegant figure.

  Nelly then took away the hat that she had chosen for her to wear and discovered another one.

  It was worn on the back of the head so that it made a halo for Angela’s golden curls.

  Nelly looked at her critically.

  “There’s somethin’ missin’,” she queried.

  “I cannot believe it is anything but perfect,” Angela pointed out.

  Nelly put up her hands.

  “No, you’re lookin’ like a Society girl, not what you should be – a Gaiety Girl!”

  Nelly then gave sharp orders to her assistants.

  A mirror was put on the table in front of Angela together with some pots and tubes that she knew were cosmetics.

  “You can say that you don’t need this,” Nelly said, “but I’m goin’ to give you a touch of rouge on your cheeks and some salve on your lips. Your eyes be exactly right as they are.”

  “I’ve never seen anyone with such long eyelashes,” one of the helpers exclaimed.

  “That’s what I was thinkin’,” Nelly answered, “and an angel wouldn’t look right if they wore mascara.”

  They laughed at this.

  Nelly powdered Angela’s face very lightly and then stood back to inspect her handiwork.

  “Now, don’t go and overdo it,” she said. “Everyone when they starts puts on far too much and, if you asks me, the Almighty knows best.”

  “Specially when it comes down to angels,” someone quipped. “And if ’is Lordship ain’t bowled over by ’er, then all I can say is he must be blind.”

  Angela saw one of the helpers nudge the other as if at a secret joke.

  It made her feel apprehensive.

  Perhaps, however, much as Nelly had tried to make her look the part, the Marquis would find fault.

  Then she was quite sure that by this time George Edwardes would have given Trevor the one thousand pounds that he had promised him.

  She sent up a little prayer to God that there would not be a hitch at the very last minute and that everything would go according to plan.

  Then Nelly said,

  “Here’s an ’andbag with all your needs in it. Now, come on, move fast and keep your head down.”

  Angela rose to her feet and Nelly unlocked the door.

  There was the sound of chattering voices and people moving about in the theatre.

  “Follow me!” Nelly ordered.

  She hurried forward, literally pushing people out of her way as she said,

  “Come on, come on! The curtain’ll be goin’ up and you’ll be late if you don’t ’urry!”

  One of the girls in the passage gave a little scream and ran up the stairs.

  If anybody glanced at Angela as she hurried after Nelly, she was not aware of it.

  She had her head down and she reached the office without there being any interruptions.

  Nelly paused and waited for her to reach her side.

  Then she flung open the door and shouted,

  “Hey, presto! The curtain rises!”

  Chapter Three

  As they drove away from The Gaiety Theatre again in a Hansom cab, Trevor said,

  “Well, you have taken the first fence in style!”

  “Do I really look all right?” Angela asked him.

  “You know perfectly well you look smashing,” he replied. “And George Edwardes was going into ecstasies about you.”

  “I was very nervous that he would be critical,” Angela commented.

  “Nobody is going to be critical where you are concerned,” Trevor said, “and remember, I am your cher ami and you are very fond of me.”

  “That is true at any rate,” Angela replied, “but I am terrified of all these lies. As Nanny always used to say, ‘one lie leads to another’.”

  Trevor laughed.

  “I remember her saying that and spanking me because I had lied to her.”

  But Angela was not really listening.

  She was looking out at the streets they were passing through and, when they had gone a little way, she realised that they had narrowed and were darker.

  “Where are we going?” she asked her brother.

  “I am taking you to dine at a small place where nobody will see us,” he answered. “Then, after I have collected my clothes, we will go back to the theatre to pick up your boxes before we take the train to Vaux.”

  Angela thought that this was rather frustrating and wasting time, but there was no point in saying so.

  Also the apprehension she felt about meeting the Marquis was growing with everything she heard about him.

  It seemed extraordinary that George Edwardes, who was so successful and had made the Gaiety Girls the talk of London, should be nervous of anyone.

  As if again he guessed what she was thinking, Trevor declared,

  “By the way George Edwardes has given me the cheque for one thousand pounds and I have it in my pocket.”

  “Oh, Trevor, how wonderful! You will put it in the Bank at once?”

  “I promise I will do so as soon as I possibly can,” Trevor answered.

  “It will help us for the moment,” Angela murmured, “but what of the future? Have you received any more commissions?”

  “If I had, I would have told you about them,” Trevor replied.

  He spoke rather sharply and she felt that it was a sore point and it would be best not to mention it again.

  The Hansom cab came to a stop outside what looked like a small restaurant in a badly lit back street.

  Angela stepped out onto the pavement and, as she entered the restaurant, she was aware that everybody turned to stare at her in her smart new clothes.

  The proprietor obviously knew Trevor well and welcomed him effusively at the door.

  He showed them to what appeared to be the best table.

  The restaurant was very small but furnished, although Angela was not aware of it, like a French bistro.

  The proprietor and Trevor consulted the menu, which was written out in longhand, and talked about the extensive choice of dishes for some time.

  Having decided what they should eat, the proprietor walked through a door that Angela thought must lead to the kitchen.

  Then a young waiter brought a bottle of champagne and Angela looked at it critically.

  “Are we not being rather extravagant?” she asked her brother.

  “I feel we have cause to celebrate what is in my pocket,” Trevor said.

  The wine waiter poured out the champagne and Trevor raised his glass.

  “To a glorious angel,” he toasted, “who really is raining blessings from Heaven upon a mere mortal.”

  “Don’t speak too quickly,” Angela begged him.

  They had to wait for quite a time before the food appeared.

  As soon as she tasted the first dish, Angela knew that it
was delicious and it was different from anything she had ever eaten before.

  Trevor was watching her closely.

  “Before you ask me,” he said, “the chef is French. I discovered this place about a month ago and have sent a number of people here and they all praised it.”

  “There are not many here at the moment,” Angela remarked.

  She looked round the small restaurant as she spoke and saw that there were only three other couples besides themselves.

  “It is very early yet,” Trevor answered. “People dine later in London than they do in the country.”

  They were finishing their second course when a smartly dressed man accompanied by a woman, who looked to Angela very exotic, came into the restaurant.

  The proprietor took them to a table.

  The gentleman was just about to sit down, when he saw Trevor.

  “Hello, old boy!” he called walking up to him. “I came round to your place this morning, but they said that you had gone to the country.”

  “And so I had,” Trevor replied, “but, as you see, I have returned.”

  The man who was speaking to him was looking at Angela.

  Somewhat reluctantly Trevor explained,

  “This, my dear, is an old friend of mine, Lord Grentham.”

  Angela held out her hand.

  “Surely anyone as beautiful as you must have a name?” Lord Grentham remarked.

  “Her name is ‘Angela’,” Trevor told him reluctantly.

  “Is that all?”

  “That is quite enough as far as you are concerned,” Trevor replied, “and I think the lady you have brought with you is growing impatient.”

  Lord Grentham’s eyes twinkled.

  “You are making it very clear that you have no wish for my company, but I am sure that I can contrive somehow to meet Angela again.”

  He smiled at her as he spoke.

  Then, as Trevor said nothing, he moved to where the lady he had brought with him was sitting.

  When he was out of hearing, Angela commented,

  “You were rather disagreeable to him.”

  “He is someone I have no wish for you to know,” Trevor replied.

  “But you said he is an old friend of yours.”

  “I have a great many friends who are not suitable to be yours and George is one of them. He is a roué and nice girls run away when they see him coming.”

  Angela laughed.

  “You forget that I am not a ‘nice girl’ at the moment but, to all intents and purposes, a Gaiety Girl.”

  Trevor held up his hands.

  “God forbid you should ever be that!”

  “But why, when you all say how beautiful they are and every man in London wants to see them and take them out to supper?”

  Trevor did not answer.

  He looked at his watch.

  “I think we should be going,” he said. “You have a great deal to do before we catch the train and it would be a great mistake to miss it.”

  Angela did not say anything.

  She thought, however, that the reason her brother was in so much of a hurry to leave the restaurant was because of Lord Grentham.

  She looked at him without appearing to do so and thought that he looked very raffish.

  At the same time he was reasonably attractive.

  He was obviously having an altercation with the woman with him.

  And only as Trevor paid the bill and rose did he realise that they were leaving.

  He hurried across the restaurant as they walked to the door.

  “Leaving so early, old boy?” he asked Trevor. “Shall I see you at The Gaiety after the Show?”

  “No, I will not be there tonight,” Trevor replied. “As a matter of fact, I am staying with Vauxhall and I hope to have a chance of riding his horses.”

  Lord Grentham looked somewhat surprised and enquired,

  “Is the Marquis having a party then? Why has he not asked me?”

  He was speaking to Trevor, but he was gazing at Angela.

  Trevor pushed open the restaurant door.

  “I will see you next week, Jonathon,” he said. “I expect we will be attending the same parties.”

  If Lord Grentham replied, Angela did not hear him.

  She felt her brother pushing her out of the restaurant and obediently she walked out onto the pavement.

  Trevor joined her and hailed an empty Hansom cab which was passing by.

  As they drove off, he said,

  “I had no idea that Grentham would turn up tonight. It was a mistake of mine to tell him about this place and as we know ‘a good deed never goes unpunished’.”

  “Why are you so against him?” Angela asked.

  “Because he is the sort of man Mama would not like you to know. He is, however, very influential and I have no wish to pick a quarrel with him.”

  “And you think you might quarrel with him over me?” Angela asked.

  “I saw the way that he was looking at you,” Trevor said angrily. “I would not trust him with any woman, let alone my sister!”

  Angela thought that it was very good of her brother to be so protective of her.

  She put her hand on his arm and said softly,

  “Don’t worry about me, Trevor. You know as well as I do that, when I have played the part of the angel for the Marquis, I shall disappear, never to be seen again.”

  She paused for a few moments and then resumed,

  “In any case I certainly could not afford to stay in London.”

  She thought that Trevor looked slightly relieved and went on,

  “Also don’t you forget that I shall look very different when these clothes go back to The Gaiety. Nelly has made it very clear that they are on loan to me.”

  “I know that,” Trevor replied, “and for God’s sake don’t spoil them. There was a fearful row last week when one of the girls spilt a cup of coffee onto her gown and so it had to be replaced.”

  “Does George Edwardes supply all the girls with their clothes?” Angela asked him.

  “Most of them,” Trevor replied. “They are the best advertisement he could possibly have for his shows. When the girls appear at Romano’s or any of the other smart places for supper, everybody stares at them as if they were still behind the footlights.”

  Angela thought that this must be exciting, but she said a little wistfully,

  “I suppose that there is no chance of my seeing them on the stage tonight?”

  Trevor thought for a moment.

  “I tell you what we will do,” he said. “Because you have been so kind as to help me out, I will see if there is a place in the box that George Edwardes always uses himself.”

  He paused and then suggested,

  “We can slip in there for a short while before we collect your clothes from Nelly. Then we will go straight to the Station.”

  Angela clasped her hands together.

  “Can we really do that? Oh, thank you, thank you, Trevor. I just know it will be thrilling for me.”

  “You must understand that you are not to talk to anybody,” Trevor warned. “If anyone tries to talk to you, just ignore them or else walk away.”

  He paused before he added,

  “I suppose really you ought to stay in the carriage and wait while I go into the theatre alone.”

  “Oh, please, Trevor, please!” Angela pleaded. “If I can just have a glimpse of the stage and the Gaiety Girls on it, I shall understand better what it is all about and how I should look when I play the part the Marquis requires of me.”

  “Very well,” Trevor said, “but only if you do exactly as I say. If there is any trouble, I shall be very angry.”

  Angela could not imagine what trouble there could possibly be.

  She was delighted at the idea of seeing the actual stage of The Gaiety Theatre and she thought that it would be a mistake to go on talking about it in case Trevor changed his mind.

  *

  They reached his lodgings in Half Moon
Street to find that Atkins had packed Trevor’s clothes in two trunks.

  “You seem to be taking a large amount of luggage with you for just two days in the country,” Angela remarked.

  “It is my riding boots that take up so much of the room,” her brother replied.

  “Nelly gave me two very spectacular riding habits,” Angela said. “Do you think I shall be allowed to ride?”

  “Of course you will,” Trevor replied, “and if you are not a good actress, you are certainly a very good rider and that it something that the Marquis will fully appreciate.”

  Angela raised her face and kissed her brother’s cheek.

  “This adventure is really getting exciting,” she said. “Thank you, Trevor, for suggesting it.”

  “I only hope that you will feel the same when it is all over,” Trevor said. “Now, come along, if you are going to see the last part of the show.”

  There was no sign of Atkins so Trevor carried his two trunks down the stairs.

  The porter, who was a different one from the one who had been on duty during the day, hailed him a Hansom cab.

  Trevor’s trunks were attached to it with ropes and they drove off to The Gaiety Theatre.

  The crowd outside the stage door was enormous and one or two of the women seemed to recognise Trevor.

  They all stared curiously at Angela and, because she was shy, she almost ran through the stage door.

  She could hear lively music coming from the orchestra.

  Just as she and Trevor entered the theatre, a crowd of girls whose costumes consisted mostly of feathers came hurrying off the stage.

  They ran up the stairs and, seeing Trevor, one of them shouted,

  “Hallo, Baronet! We missed you in your usual seat.”

  Angela looked at Trevor enquiringly.

  “Do you come here every night?” she asked him.

  “I do come here a great deal,” he answered quickly, “because I meet the people who are likely to require expensive horses, houses and anything else I can find for them.”

  He did not meet her eyes as he spoke and she was sure that there were other reasons as well.

  Trevor spoke to one of the men who seemed to be in charge of what was going on.

  Angela could not hear what he said and then he turned back and took her by the arm to lead her down the corridor.

  She had a quick glimpse of someone on the stage and at the side girls in very elaborate costumes were waiting to go on.