“Of course, I’ll have to approve your purchases, but so far you’ve proved yourself very frugal.”
Excited, she sat back down. “I want to buy twenty dressing gowns and twenty pairs of warm slippers.”
“What?”
“For the poor actors.”
“Good Lord.”
“When I first came to London, I was living at Mrs Potter’s boardinghouse. None of us had any money, and barely anything to eat. Now Rory’s been put on salary, but only two pounds a week, and he pays a pound a week for his room at Darry House. The others apprentices still earn no wages. The older actors make more, but some have large families and …” Sir William’s eyes were closing so she shouted, “It’s been a very cold winter.”
He jerked awake. “It has.”
“My dressing room is on the top floor. There’s no stove and it’s very cold.”
He sat up, rolling his shoulders. “There’s no heat backstage?”
“There are stoves on the stage level, but none up above. It’s all right for me. I have a warm dressing gown and slippers, but the others sit in their worn coats and their boots. Many have holes in the soles. They can’t afford to mend them let alone buy the new ones they really need. Now that I have so much, and they still have so little …”
The smile crossed his face. “You wish to outfit the entire company.”
“But they’re almost all men, and Isabelle says men won’t take presents from women unless they can give something twice as expensive in return. Is that true?”
Sir William cocked his head. “Yes, it is an unspoken code among gentlemen.”
“It’s a very stupid code.”
He frowned disapprovingly.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean …”
He raised an eyebrow. “My dear, you are too young to understand certain—”
“They need the clothes and they’d take them from a man. Why won’t they take them from me? Is there some way I can buy them, without their knowing who—”
“Gifts from an anonymous patron?”
“Is that possible?”
“Why not? Simply have the clothes delivered with a note saying that the benefactor wishes to remain anonymous. You need their measurements.”
“I work in wardrobe, so I have those already.”
He sat back, smiling. “Very well then. I’ll take you shopping. This will be our first outing, together. Dressing gowns and slippers …” He thought for a moment. “Sounds like some need boots and coats as well.” He scratched his cheek. “Best would be a store credit, somewhere like Harrods. Then they can purchase whatever they wanted. Have you been to Harrods? Ridden on that moving staircase?”
“A moving staircase? That sounds frightful.”
“Actually, it’s rather fun.”
At 10 o’clock the next morning, Sir William’s chauffeur drove Elly to His Majesty’s Theatre. Dressed in a comfortable, faded school frock, she climbed the stairs to the principal men’s dressing room. She lifted two heavy costumes off the rack and carried them upstairs to the costume shop. Connie Vickers, the wardrobe mistress, was showing a thin, pretty dark-haired girl the name-tags in each costume piece. Elly hung up her costumes, and Connie smiled.
“Oh dear, hasn’t anyone told you your purgatory is over? We have a new apprentice, Jane Baker.”
Surprised and pleased, Elly shook her hand. “Hello, Miss Baker, I’m Elly Fielding. Are you living at Darry House?”
Jane smiled. “I will be.”
Connie looked through the few garments left for mending. “Miss Baker’s covering you in The Tempest. High time they got you a proper understudy. She can handle this mending, so enjoy your day off.”
Elly was thrilled. “Thanks so much. Good to meet you, Miss Baker.” She hurried downstairs, wondering what to do with her free time. Sir William was taking her to Harrods, at 2 o’clock, but it was only 10.15. She had hours before anyone would miss her. The day was cold, but fair, and she felt wonderfully free as she left the theatre and walked toward Piccadilly Circus.
A row of hansom cabs stood ready for hire. Just for fun she asked a driver. “Cabbie, do you know where number 2 Dombey Street might be?”
He nodded. “Oi do, Miss. Li’le bi’ of a street, in Bloomsbury.”
“I see.” Her heart pounded. “How long would the drive be?”
“This time o’ day, no time at all.”
“Wonderful.” She climbed into the cab. The cabbie flapped the reins and they drove away. Leaning back, she watched the streets fly by. Her cheeks felt like fire. Isabelle would be furious if she knew. Elly calmed herself, thinking that Robert couldn’t possibly be home. He would be working at one of the big houses. She just wanted to see where he lived, then tell the cabbie to take her to Green Park. She planned to walk home from there. No one would even know she had taken the ride.
They were quickly at 2 Dombey Street. It was a narrow, three-storey building. From the carriage window she could see that one side of the slanted roof was a skylight of panelled glass. She smiled, picturing Robert, working and sleeping inside. Ready to ask the cabby to drive her to Green Park, she saw a shadow move to-and-fro behind the window. Robert was home. Shaking, gasping short breaths, she paid the driver, and walked to the front door. It was unlocked. She went inside and up a narrow staircase. There was one door on the top floor. She quietly knocked.
“Just a minute,” Robert’s voice sounded from inside.
Elly thought she was going to faint. The door opened.
Robert smiled then looked horrified. “Darling …” he quickly looked behind her. “Are you alone? Why are you here?”
Elly mumbled. “I … I had no work this morning. I’m not expected home until 1.30. I wanted to see where you live. Is it all right?” The smell of paint and turpentine reminded her of the art studio at school. Behind him was a wall of unfinished canvasses.
“Of course it’s all right.” He quickly stepped back and she walked inside. A potbellied stove poured out warmth. Cheery sunlight streamed through the skylight. Sketches lay in neat piles, and an easel stood by the window. A narrow bed and wardrobe stood against the far wall. He grabbed her, devouring her mouth, pulling off her hat, and unbuttoning her coat. Startled, but delighted, she pulled away and carefully folded her coat over a chair.
When she turned back, he was staring at her, smiling. His chest heaved with excited breaths. “Sorry, darling. I’m just so pleased to see you.” He held out his arms and she fell into his loving embrace. He gently kissed her face and neck.
At school he had worn layers of clothes under his artist’s smock. Now she unbuttoned his smock and was startled to find smooth naked flesh. She moved her fingers over his warm skin, sprinkled with soft, dark hairs. In a flash, their arms, tongues and fingers frantically explored. His hands moved over her body, unclipping hooks and buttons. Before she knew it, they were both naked on his narrow bed.
“Wait!” Robert pulled away, and crossed a leg over his erection. “I’m sorry. This is how it was the last time. I hurt you so badly, I’ll never forgive myself.”
Elly gasped for breath. “That wasn’t your fault. I didn’t know what to do. I still don’t know what to do, but want to do it – all of it.” She looked down his smooth slender body. “You’re so beautiful, like a statue in a museum.” She bit her lip and ran her fingers over his shoulders, down his arms and over his chest. When she reached his belly, he opened his legs, so she could see his swollen cock. Her hand jerked back, and he laughed sweetly.
“There it is, darling. If you really want it, it’s pining for you.”
She swallowed and stared with huge eyes. He reached one finger, and circled her soft pink nipple. She gasped with pleasure and he gently pushed her onto her back. “You’re astoundingly beautiful.” He ran his hands over both breasts and down to the copper mound between her legs. He chuckled, “I’ve sketched you so often, guessing this was the color.”
She sat up, alarmed. “You drew me naked?”
> He laughed, blushing. “I burned the sketches immediately after, I promise. All those months at school.” He closed his eyes and sighed. “I wanted you so badly and couldn’t touch you. At least drawing you … pretending we were …”
She lay back, panting. “I didn’t know you thought about me … that way.”
“Since that first day I saw you, on the train.”
“My goodness, I feel like such a goose.” Her cheeks flushed bright pink.
He stroked her smooth, slender thighs. “I never imagined human skin could be this white. Italian marble couldn’t be more perfect.”
She smiled and reached her arms around his neck. His mouth opened, and their tongues gently explored. Taking her hands in his, he pushed them far apart and lowered his mouth over one perfect breast, then the other. She moaned as he reached his hand between her legs. When she moved her legs apart, he smiled, and kissed the insides of her thighs. She lay back and closed her eyes, as he moved his fingers through the soft curly mound. His tongue caressed her baby-soft folds of skin. After a few moments, her back arched. She gasped for breath, cried out, and clamped her legs together. An embarrassing wetness spread between her legs. He pushed his fingers inside and she gasped. He nuzzled her ear. “The last time, I should have waited till you were ready. You’re ready now. Are you sure you want me to …?”
“Yes, yes, please.”
Smiling, he positioned himself and carefully slid inside. She gasped with pain. Within a second, that pain became a sensation so exquisite she could hardly breathe. His thrusts became strong and hard. He pushed into her, again and again. Suddenly, he groaned loudly, pulled out, and collapsed, shaking on top of her. When the shaking stopped; he lay limp and helpless. Her thigh felt wet. They were both gasping, lightly sweating, curled tight in each other’s arms. She shivered and he pulled the bedclothes around them.
When he had breath enough to speak, he said, “I finished outside you. I’ll never forgive myself for the last time. We were lucky you didn’t conceive, but I’ll—”
Elly whispered, “It wasn’t just luck.” He looked confused, so she continued. “Isabelle’s gifted with herbs. She gave me some and my bleeding came early.”
He sat up alarmed. “Lady Richfield knows that I …”
Elly hugged him. “It’s all right. She doesn’t fault you at all. I told her all about us, and she said that you did everything right. She said that I was dumb ignorant, like most women. The bleeding came while I was at the theatre. I felt ill and Miss Stewart allowed me to rest in her dressing room.”
Robert thought he would faint. “Katherine Stewart knows as well. Does anyone else?”
“Only Mr O’Connell, but none of them fault you. I told Isabelle that you asked twice before you … you know. She said you were extraordinary – that I may have found a prince.”
“Just a minute.” He lay back. His eyes budged. “You told Lady Richfield what I did, and she said I was a prince?”
“Yes. She said I’d learn to do it eventually, and that my next lover should be experienced.”
He cringed. “I am experienced – very experienced. I was taught by the very best Parisian …” He shook his head. “I just forgot it all, that night at Heathhead School.”
Elly’s eyes shined. “Is there more? Can you teach me? I want to learn everything.”
He laughed and hugged her. “There is a great deal more, and I would love to teach you, but we may not be together again, at least anytime soon. Lady Richfield said—”
“She said you can’t marry me because I’m rich and you’re poor, but I don’t see why that matters.” He sighed sadly, and she whispered, “Unless, of course, you didn’t want to marry me.”
“Didn’t want …?” He shook his head. “If I was rich, and you were a starving artist, I’d marry you tonight.”
B–ring, b–ring. They both jumped with surprise. Robert lurched out of bed, reached behind a pile of sketches, and found a candlestick telephone. He put the earpiece to his ear and spoke into the mouth piece. “Bloomsbury 868 … Robert Dennison, here …” He listened, and looked at a clock on the wall. “It’s nearly noon … Yes, 12.30 will be fine … Thank you, sir. I’ll be right over.”
He hung up, grabbed his clothes off the floor, and tossed Elly hers. “That was Mr Gildstein. He just had the telephone installed. Now, I don’t have to waste time waiting for late clients. They just call when they want to sit for me. I’m off to Belgravia. The underground stops at Green Park. You’ll be minutes from Hamilton Place, let’s hurry.”
Elly walked into the Hamilton Place mansion at 12.25. Still reeling from the wonderful love-making, she sauntered languidly up the stairs towards her room. Isabelle was in the hall with the housekeeper. Elly made a quick little curtsy and smiled on her way.
“Elly?” Isabelle’s voice stopped her.
She turned around. “Yes, ma’am?”
Isabelle dismissed the housekeeper. She walked away, down the winding stairs. Isabelle looked at Elly. “You’re home early. And you look very pleased with yourself.”
Elly panicked, sputtering. “I … I am pleased. You see there’s a new apprentice, and she’s carrying the costumes now. It was a horrid job. I’m so glad to be rid of it. That’s why I looked so pleased.”
Isabelle beckoned with one finger, and Elly guiltily walked to her. “You’re absolutely glowing.” She put her face next to Elly’s, sniffed, and stood back, whispering through clenched teeth. “Bloody hell! You’ve been with a man. An educated guess would be Robert Dennison, even though I told you not to go to his loft.”
Elly cringed, waiting for some horrible punishment. She was stunned when Isabelle shook her head. “I should have known you’d find a way to see him. How could I have been so stupid?”
Too afraid to speak, Elly stared at her guardian.
Isabelle coughed out a laugh. “I, better than anyone, know that two lovers will find a way to be together, no matter what.” She raised both hands. “And you, of all people, never take ‘no’ for an answer.” She blew out an angry breath. “Bill’s taking you shopping today.”
“Yes ma’am, at 2 o’clock.”
“Good. You have time for a bath and complete change of clothes.”
“I planned to wear a good frock.”
She pulled Elly closer. “Listen to me. You are to take off everything you are wearing and send every stitch for cleaning. Have a full bath. Dress entirely in clean clothes, and have Mary brush rosewater through your hair. Understood?”
“Yes, ma’am.” She turned to go.
“Elly?”
She guiltily turned back.
Isabelle’s glower relaxed. “Was it wonderful?”
Elly burst into a glowing smile. “It was.”
Isabelle nodded. “Good.”
Elly laughed as she sped towards her room.
Chapter Three
Mary, the Yorkshire maid, was laying out Elly’s good frock and shoes. “Yer early, Miss. I wasn’t expectin’ y’ for—”
“I wasn’t expecting me either. Fast as you can, Mary, run me a bath. I need to change all my clothes, top to bottom.”
Mary looked startled, but did as she was told. Elly tore off her clothes and stepped into the bath with the water still running. Mary took a large clip and twisted Elly’s long hair on top of her head. Elly slid under the warm water as Mary soaped a large sponge and washed her young mistress down. Soap bubbles pored over Elly’s shoulders, and she laughed. “You’re getting so good at this, Mary.”
The young maid laughed back. “I were just a servin’ maid back home. Miss Charlston’s ever so kind, teachin’ me to be a proper lady’s maid. There’s so much to learn.”
Elly wiped the sponge over her face. “You’re learning faster than I am. I’m afraid you’ll be a proper lady’s maid before I’ll be a proper lady.” The girls splashed and giggled.
****
Elly clutched Sir William’s arm. “I’m falling.”
“Hold the handrail, si
lly goose.”
With her free hand, Elly clutched the heavy rubber banister gliding upward with the moving staircase at Harrods Department Store.
“Careful there.” Sir William held her straight, as she jerked her pointed heel from between thin wooden planks in the moving step.
Above them, a woman stumbled and started to faint. An attendant at the top of the escalator helped her off and waved smelling salts under her nose.
Elly and Sir William awkwardly stepped onto solid ground.
“Tot o’ brandy, sir?” Another attendant offered Sir William a small glass.
“Thanks, but no.” He whispered to Elly, “Worst brandy in England.” She laughed as they walked to the lift and proceeded to the top floor.
Inside the opulent store office, a credit manager in a morning suit and spats nodded politely. “Good afternoon, Miss, Sir. How may I assist you?”
Sir William smiled at Elly. “My ward wishes to gift dressing gowns, slippers and store credits to sixteen actors and four actresses at His Majesty’s Theatre, and she wishes these gifts to be sent anonymously. Everything will go on my account.”
Whatever the credit manager felt about this unusual order, his face showed nothing but a desire to serve.
Elly gave him a list of names, and Sir William smiled broadly. “So, m’ dear, let’s go shopping.”
The men’s department was huge. There seemed to be acres of dressing gowns, and Elly was delighted. She quickly moved down the rows. “This blue will bring out Rory’s eyes … but he’d love that red.” She went down her list. “Purple: definitely for Peter. He loves to play the king. Green for Todd …” She giggled in anticipation. “I hope everyone will be pleased.”
Sir William sat in an easy chair, crossed his arms and smiled. “You’re remarkable. I’ve never seen a woman make up her mind so quickly, or look so happy shopping for other people.”
When Elly finished, it took three salesmen to wrap sixteen packages of men’s robes and slippers. With only four women to supply, their trip to the women’s department took only minutes.
Elly was ready to leave when Sir William remembered, “You haven’t shopped for yourself.”
Beauty's Doom: The final instalment of the romantic Victorian mystery (His Majesty's Theatre Book 4) Page 3
