by Dilly Court
There was no sound from her father’s room and she decided to take advantage of the quiet moments to work on her novel. Belinda’s story had taken a surprising turn when she was kidnapped by a handsome Spanish grandee. She had rebuffed his advances, but it had become clear that she was in danger of succumbing. The hero was now a dashing soldier who was making every effort to reach his love, but the Spanish noble was intent on enjoying his privileged life to the full and had planned Belinda’s seduction down to the last detail. Would she escape unaided or would her soldier come to her rescue? Nettie took her manuscript from the bottom of her valise, sharpened her pencil and set to work. Now she had the added impetus of needing to support herself and her father. She closed her eyes and visualised the scene in the grand duke’s castle. She began to write furiously as the words spilled onto the paper.
Chapter Eighteen
During the next couple of weeks Nettie wrote at every possible opportunity, although she managed to keep her work secret from everyone except Byron. He had been fortunate enough to get his old job back in the solicitor’s office, although he said it was just luck, as his replacement had proved incompetent and unpopular and had been sacked. The senior solicitor had commended Byron on his work and had promised him the position of head clerk when the present incumbent retired at Christmas. Nettie suspected that this was not what Byron really wanted, but when questioned he merely smiled and said he considered himself fortunate to be given a second chance. Nettie was not convinced.
Robert had gone out every day with his pad and tin of charcoal, and had taken up a position in Trafalgar Square, where he sketched the likeness of anyone who was willing to pay a few pennies for his work. When he returned home he spent every evening putting the finishing touches to the portrait of Jane Norwood, and early one morning he called Nettie into the studio.
‘It’s completed,’ he said wearily. ‘What do you think, my dear? You are always my most honest critic.’
Nettie stood back, gazing at Jane Norwood’s likeness captured for posterity in oils. ‘It’s excellent, Pa. You haven’t flattered her, and she is no beauty, but you’ve given her dignity that I don’t think she possesses.’
‘I hope so, Nettie. I simply had to get that face down on canvas or it might have haunted me for the rest of my life.’ Robert wiped his hands on a cloth.
‘You’ve been kind to her under the circumstances,’ Nettie said, laughing. ‘She looks a little stern, but you can still see traces of the pretty young woman she must have been when Mr Norwood fell in love with her.’
‘It’s hard to imagine.’ Robert turned his back on his work. ‘However, it’s done, and when the paint is dry I’ll get Percy to deliver it for me. I don’t care to listen to the woman’s critical appraisal because I know she’ll hate it. I just hope that Maurice is satisfied.’
‘I’m sure he will be.’ Nettie gathered up the gown she had been mending for Violet Fabron. ‘I’ll just take this to the theatre, Pa. Madame needs it for the play this evening.’
‘She pays you a pittance, Nettie. If she hired a professional seamstress it would cost her double. You ought to ask her for more.’
‘It wouldn’t do any good. Madame is very careful with her money, but the little she gives me will be enough to buy our supper. I’ve found a street seller who makes really delicious pea soup and it’s only a penny a cup.’
‘To think that not so long ago we were living like lords at the castle,’ Robert sighed, shaking his head. ‘But it was bound to come to an end, and now I need a new canvas and some paints, Nettie. How much money have you got?’
‘Not enough, Pa. Maybe I can find more sewing work at the theatre. I’m going there now, so I’ll ask around.’
‘My next painting will sell,’ Robert said firmly. ‘I’m going to paint pretty pictures that the wives of well-off merchants will want to hang on their walls, but I can’t work without the right equipment.’
‘Don’t worry, Pa. You’ll get your canvas and paints even if I have to steal them.’ Nettie hurried from the room, clutching Violet Fabron’s elaborate costume. She raced downstairs and was in so much of a hurry that she almost bumped into Lisette and Constance, who were on their way out of the building.
‘Where are you going in such haste?’ Lisette demanded. ‘You almost knocked us over.’
‘I’m sorry, but Madame is waiting for this.’
‘That wretched woman,’ Lisette said angrily. ‘I’ve tried several times to speak to her about a part in the play, but she refuses to talk to me. She muttered something about making an appointment to see the producer.’
‘I wish we could afford to go to the theatre.’ Constance fingered the embroidery on the satin gown. ‘I’m so tired of being poor. Percy hasn’t found suitable employment yet, and I can’t afford to pay a lawyer to take my case so I’m still tied to Duke. I feel as if I’m living in a bad dream.’
Lisette glared at her. ‘If you keep moaning like that I’ll have to ask you to find somewhere else to live. I’ve lost everything, but you don’t hear me going on and on about it.’
‘I have an idea,’ Nettie said in desperation. ‘Why don’t you come to the theatre with me? The doorman is an old friend and he’ll turn a blind eye, although I’m not supposed to take anyone with me. Anyway, once you’re inside you can have a look around back stage, and maybe Madame will be a little more helpful, or perhaps one of the other cast members would be willing to speak to you.’
Lisette’s downcast expression was wiped away in an instant. ‘Yes, of course. I should have thought of asking you in the first place.’
‘I suppose it might be diverting,’ Constance said sulkily. ‘I’m so bored and I hate this place. I almost wish I’d gone with Duke.’
‘I’m sure you don’t mean that, Constance,’ Nettie said briskly. ‘Follow me.’ She let herself out of the building and set off for the Adelphi Theatre, where the doorman greeted her with a toothless grin. Nettie introduced Lisette by her title, which had the desired effect, and the doorman admitted them without an argument. Once inside, Nettie made for the main dressing room and was told that Madame Fabron was on stage. No one questioned Lisette or Constance, and Nettie took them into the auditorium where the dress rehearsal had just begun. They sat in the second row, behind the producer and Lisette, for once, was silent as she watched the performance, tapping her foot in time to the music and her lips moved as if she knew the libretto by heart.
Amelie Fabron had a big part, as did her mother, but it became apparent that something was wrong when the orchestra played an introduction for the second time and no one appeared. Those who were already on stage peered into the wings.
The producer rose to his feet. ‘What the devil is going on? Where is Miss Leslie?’
A flustered stage hand put in an appearance, shaking his head. ‘I’m sorry, sir. Miss Leslie was taken ill. She’s very poorly.’
Lisette jumped to her feet. ‘I know the part. I played Madeleine in a production in Paris.’
‘Sit down,’ Nettie whispered. ‘You can’t do this.’
Lisette shot her an angry glance. ‘Don’t interfere. This might be my chance to prove myself.’
The producer turned to stare at her. ‘Who are you?’
‘I am Lisette Joubert. I was once the toast of Paris.’
He frowned. ‘Well, Madam, I’ve never heard of you, so please sit down.’ He turned his back on her. ‘Where is the understudy?’
The stage hand clasped his hands nervously. ‘She’s sick, too, sir. They seem to have eaten a dozen oysters each for luncheon, so I was told.’
Violet Fabron moved to centre stage. ‘We need to get on, sir. Maybe this person could stand in for now. Miss Leslie should recover in time for the opening night.’
‘Very well.’ The producer nodded. ‘Miss Joubert will take the part, for now. Let’s see how good her memory is.’
Lisette was on the stage almost before the words left his lips, and the orchestra stuck up once again.
/> Nettie clutched Constance’s hand. ‘I hope she’s doing the right thing. I don’t think I can watch.’ She closed one eye, holding her breath as Lisette launched into the lyrics of the comic opera, and there was a general sigh of approval as her voice rang out loud and clear.
Lisette seemed to be in her element. She lived up to her boast and knew all the words, and instinctively followed the actions of the other players. When the scene ended she received a round of genuine applause and the producer was obviously impressed. He handed her down from the stage.
‘You were right, Miss Joubert. You have obviously performed this part before.’
‘As I told you,’ Lisette said haughtily. ‘I was famous once.’
‘And what occurred to end such a promising career?’
‘I married an Englishman and I left the stage. Both were a mistake.’
‘If you are not otherwise employed, I could offer you the part of Miss Leslie’s understudy. She has one at present, but the girl is unreliable. Would you be interested?’
Nettie and Constance exchanged anxious glances.
Lisette was silent for a moment and then she nodded graciously. ‘I am free, as it happens, and I do love the Adelphi. I would be happy to accept, if the terms are suitable, of course.’
Nettie held her breath; Lisette was taking an awful chance, but the producer merely laughed and patted her on the shoulder.
‘I think we can come to an agreement, Miss Joubert. Come to my office and we’ll discuss the matter.’ He proffered his arm and led Lisette backstage.
‘She is rather good,’ Constance said enviously. ‘I wish I had a talent I could exploit like that.’
‘The condesa has lived by her wits for a long time.’ Nettie rose from her seat. ‘I need to see Madame and collect my money, or we won’t eat tonight.’
‘Perhaps we ought to have gone with the condesa,’ Constance said nervously. ‘That man’s intentions might not have been honourable.’
Nettie smiled. ‘I think Lisette was well aware of that, and I’m sure she can handle herself in a difficult situation.’ She lowered her voice. ‘I think Violet Fabron and her daughter have a worthy rival. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if the condesa ended up with the leading role.’
Constance glanced at the stage. ‘Madame Fabron doesn’t look too happy, and she’s coming this way.’
Violet Fabron stood in front of the footlights, arms akimbo. ‘What’s your game, Nettie? Are you trying to put us out of business?’
Nettie shrugged. ‘I don’t know what you mean, Madame.’
‘Yes, you do. You brought that painted creature to our lodgings, and now she’s getting cosy with the producer. I’ve met her type before.’
‘You were the one who encouraged the producer to give her a chance,’ Nettie said impatiently.
‘Yes, but I thought she’d make a mess of it and I’d get the part.’ Violet’s eyes flashed angrily.
‘You tell her, Ma.’ Amelie rushed to her mother’s side. ‘I’m the next in line for Miss Leslie’s part, if anything should happen to her. And who is that person? Is she an actress, too?’ Amelie pointed at Constance. ‘There’s no work here for the likes of you.’
Constance sprang to her feet. ‘I’m Mrs Marmaduke Dexter, a respectable married woman.’
‘Duke? You’re married to Duke Dexter?’ Amelie threw back her head and laughed, and the chorus, who had lined up behind her, joined in until tears were running down their cheeks, leaving streaks in the greasepaint.
‘You know my husband?’ Constance’s voice shook with emotion.
‘Of course she doesn’t,’ Nettie said, glaring at Amelie. ‘Mademoiselle Fabron is a respectable young woman. Her papa would be very angry if he thought that she was intimate with a man like Duke Dexter.’
Amelie shot a wary glance at her mother. ‘No, of course not. It’s hearsay.’
‘And should be disregarded as such.’ Nettie grabbed Constance by the arm. ‘We’re done here, anyway. Let’s go.’
‘I can’t trust you any more, Nettie Carroll,’ Violet said bitterly. ‘I’ll find another seamstress to alter my gowns, and you’d better keep that young person away from my Amelie – she’s got a temper like a tigress when she’s roused.’
Nettie hesitated, turning her head to give Violet a straight look. ‘Maybe you ought to ask the tigress how she knows so much about Duke Dexter, and perhaps she’ll recall an evening at the Gaiety Restaurant not so long ago.’ Nettie guided Constance from the auditorium and out into the street, nodding her thanks to the doorman as they left the building.
‘What was all that about?’ Constance demanded. ‘How did that person know Duke?’
‘Duke has quite a reputation when it comes to young women.’ Nettie shivered as a cold wind whipped at her skirts. She wrapped her shawl more tightly around her shoulders. ‘Let’s go home; I think it’s going to rain.’
‘No, you don’t get out of it that easily.’ Constance came to a sudden halt. ‘I won’t move from this spot until you tell me what that Amelie creature meant.’
‘I don’t know the full extent of their relationship, but not so long ago I was at the Gaiety with Byron, Ted and Pip. Duke was there with a group of people and Amelie was one of them.’
‘Was she with him?’
‘Yes, at least that’s how it seemed. She was hanging on to his arm and flirting with him. I dare say it meant nothing to Duke.’
‘I’ll scratch her eyes out.’
Nettie stared at her in amazement. ‘But you hate Duke. You’re in love with Percy and you’re going to marry him when your annulment is granted.’
‘Yes, of course I hate Duke, but that doesn’t mean that actress can claim him as one of her beaux. He’s still my husband.’
‘I don’t think I’ll ever fully understand you, Constance. It must be because you’re French and you see things differently.’ Nettie glanced up into the lowering clouds. ‘I felt a drop of rain. We’d best hurry or we’ll get soaked.’
‘I do love Percy,’ Constance said breathlessly as she quickened her pace in an attempt to keep up with Nettie. ‘But he’s a penniless boy, and Duke might be less than honest in his dealings, but he’s rich and clever.’
Nettie opened the door to Ma Burton’s lodging house and stepped over the threshold as the rain began to fall in earnest. ‘What are you saying, Constance?’
‘I don’t know anything, any more. My life used to be boring, but safe, and now it’s neither. One minute I’m engaged to a dashing young man who’ll inherit a castle in Spain, and now I’m living in this dreadful place without a penny to my name, and no prospects. I wish I’d never left Paris.’
Nettie stared at her, frowning. ‘Are you saying that you’d go back to Duke, given the chance?’
‘Oh, I don’t know. Maybe.’
Nettie was trying to think of a suitable answer when she heard heavy footsteps and a dragging sound emanating from the steps leading down to Ma Burton’s lair in the basement. She waited, hardly daring to breathe. Ma rarely left her quarters and when she did it was always for something momentous. Nettie could not decide whether to retreat quickly, or to wait and find out what had caused the reclusive landlady to emerge into daylight.
Gasping for every breath, Ma Burton heaved herself up the last step. Leaning on her cane, she waddled across the entrance hall to face Nettie and Constance.
‘Where was you?’ she demanded. ‘You’ve got a lot to answer for, young woman.’
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ Nettie protested.
‘You’ve brought trouble to my door. I should have known better than to let you and your friends take up residence. This is a respectable lodging house.’
‘Respectable?’ Nettie laughed. ‘Your sons are notorious criminals, Ma. You deal in stolen goods – everyone knows that.’
‘Wash your mouth out,’ Ma said furiously. ‘My boys are businessmen, and if they learn that you’re spreading lies about me, they’ll break every bone in your s
kinny body.’
‘What sort of house is this?’ Constance shot a nervous glance in Nettie’s direction.
Ma curled her lip. ‘You’ll find out if my boys learn that you entertain people like Duke Dexter and Samson Wegg.’
‘What are you talking about?’ Nettie asked angrily.
‘They’re in the condesa’s parlour. I didn’t want no one to see such as them hanging around my front door.’ Ma moved a step closer to Nettie. ‘Get them out of here and you and your pa can go, too. Unless, of course …’
Nettie stood her ground. ‘Don’t threaten me, Ma. I think I know enough about you and yours to put you away for a considerable length of time. As to the visitors – you can call the police if you wish, or get your boys to throw them out. In fact you’d be doing us a favour.’
‘Well, you’ve got a cheek, miss.’ Ma backed away. ‘Get rid of them, that’s what I say. Get them out of here, or there’ll be trouble.’ She made for the stairs with surprising speed and her booted feet clattered on the bare treads.
‘Was she telling the truth?’ Constance asked anxiously.
Nettie pushed past her and opened the door. ‘There’s only one way to find out.’ She paused, giving Constance a steady look. ‘But if Duke is here you’d better make up your mind which way to go.’
‘What will I do?’
‘That’s entirely up to you.’
Nettie marched through the small entrance hall and let herself into the parlour. ‘So it’s true,’ she said calmly. ‘I never thought to see Duke Dexter and Samson Wegg in the same room, unless of course they were under arrest.’
Duke rose from the armchair by the empty grate. ‘You’ve got nerve, Nettie Carroll. I’ll say that for you.’
‘How did you know we were here?’ Nettie demanded angrily.
