The Masked Heart (Sweet Deception Regency #2) (15 page)

For the most part Robbie had been patient, but by the increasingly grim expression of his brother's face, Drew wondered how long this state of affairs would continue. Would the girl come to her senses before Robbie lost all patience with her?

He finished off the brandy, wondering if the Farrington men were doomed to solitary lives. Neither he nor Robbie seemed to have much luck in the women they chose to pursue.

Chapter Eight

Blaine's heart jolted at the sudden appearance of Drew Farrington. She hadn't seen him since the night he had rescued her from Stoddard and hadn't expected him at the Forsythe's musicale. She watched as he bent to speak to his hostess. She liked the tumble of curly brown hair falling on his forehead and the way he brushed it impatiently away from his face. Then she remembered his visit to the theatre and she could feel heat rise to her cheeks beneath her makeup.

After he had left her at the theatre and she was not so caught up in the spell of enchantment that his nearness spun around her, she had indeed been angry. But more than that she had been disappointed in him. In Wiltshire she had admired Drew and felt his return to the pursuit of La Solitaire was somehow a betrayal of her judgment. As he crossed the Aubusson carpet to join the group around the gold satin sofa on which she sat, she tried to forget her anger at him for her role as Lady Yates.

"What ho, Farrington," Reggie Torrance called, giving a casual salute to the newcomer. The dandy eyed Drew's elegant turnout and made a mental note to find out the name of his tailor. "What brings you out in the light of the day? Always said you had a tin ear for musicales."

"It was surely the pleasure of your company," Drew responded, earning a chorus of laughter from the others in the group. "Besides, if you will notice, I took great care to arrive after the musical portion of this charming affair. Miss Meriweather. Robbie." He nodded his greetings and then turned to the figure on the sofa. "Lady Yates. I hope I find you well."

"Exceedingly," Blaine answered crisply. She ignored the eyebrow raised in surprise at her tone. "And you, Lord Farrington. I trust all of London was suitably appreciative of your return."

"Only in some quarters, ma'am." He lowered himself into a vacant chair, his eyes still intent on Lady Yates. "Have you been enjoying your visit to London?"

"Most assuredly, thank you." She wished he would not stare so at her. She knew her makeup and costume were excellent but she was always uneasy that somehow he would see through her disguise. However as she searched his face she could discover no signs of recognition and she relaxed against the pillows of the sofa. "I do not get out as much as I would like but I fear I tire much too easily to keep late hours."

"You should have joined our party last night, Lady Yates," Reggie said, his pallid face lit for once with enthusiasm. We went to Covent Garden to see Kemble in Othello. The man is a genius."

"Oh, yes, Lord Farrington," Fleur said, her face rosy with excitement. "It was ever so magical."

"I cannot agree," Robbie said, ignoring the pout of his lady-love at his contradictory words. "The man's a poseur. He plays his parts as if above the common touch. It is all external and artificial elegance."

"And what would you have, Robbie?" Blaine asked, much interested in his assessment of Kemble whom she knew well. He was Sarah Siddons' brother and Blaine had acted on stage with him often during her time at Covent Garden. "Do you find something lacking in his performance?"

"That's it exactly, Lady Yates," Robbie answered, his eyes narrowed in thought. "I do always feel there is something missing. I am not sure what exactly."

"Passion," Drew interjected. "The man has majesty but one never gets the sense of a living, breathing character beneath the role."

"How very interesting, Lord Farrington," Blaine said, surprised at Drew's perception. "Yet with it all, he remains a very popular actor."

"Not so much since the riots at the Covent Garden five years ago," interjected Edward Baxter, another one of Fleur's flirts.

"Riots?" Fleur squealed, half in fear, half in excitement.

"Let me tell you, my dear," Reggie took up the story. "It was after the fire and the opening of the New Covent Garden. The man was close to ruin and only a loan from the Duke of Northumberland allowed him to rebuild. He hoped to recoup his losses by raising the prices of the private boxes but where he made his mistake was raising the price in the pit by sixpence."

"That is not so very much," Fleur said artlessly.

"My dear child, the pit is a sacred arena and the English are not ones to take umbrage lightly," Edward said, eager to get back in the limelight. "I was privileged to be present on opening night. The bill was Macbeth followed by a musical farce called the Quaker. From the moment Kemble set foot on the stage, pandemonium broke out. The audience had handbells, clappers and other noisemakers. I myself had come armed with a watchman's rattle."

"Oh, how exciting. Don't you wish you'd been there to see such a thing?" Fleur said to the listeners in general who dutifully murmured a similar thought.

Blaine said little as she remembered all too well sitting with a tearful Sarah Siddons as the woman told her of the appalling behavior of the audience. There were placards calling for a return of the Old Prices and the members of the pit began to chant "O.P" until the whole house had taken it up.

"Kemble showed himself a true thespian," Reggie picked up the threads of the tale, earning himself a black look from Edward. "He and the other actors continued with the play even though the lines they recited were practically inaudible. Every night was the same. Sometimes Bow Street runners would be called in to eject the worst of the ringleaders but still at every performance there was a hubbub. Finally after sixty days Kemble restored the old prices to the pit although he kept the new price for the boxes."

"It all sounds quite exciting, but I feel rather sorry for the actors," Fleur said in a soft voice.

"Bravo, child," Blaine said, wanting to hug her sister for her kind heart. "I cannot condone such rudeness. It has always surprised me that such a rough element is permitted to take over in a situation such as this."

"Truly, Lady Yates," Reggie said. "You cannot imagine the sort of manners that hold sway in the upper galleries. I have seen gentlemen hang coats and even waistcoats over the galleries and sit in their"- he lowered his voice in horror - "in their shirtsleeves."

"I'll admit in some theatres, the audience can be an unruly lot," Drew said. He smiled at Lady Yates whose mouth was pinched in a thin line of disapproval. "I have seen those in the upper galleries dropping orange peelings on the heads of those in the pit. Naturally the pit responds by throwing things into the boxes. For the most part, it is all in good fun. Only occasionally does it get out of hand."

"Common courtesy, would dictate more respect for the actors on stage." Blaine spoke briskly, annoyed that the group should find such behavior acceptable.

"Sometimes those on stage are so dreadful, it is a service to the audience to interrupt them." Reggie broke into laughter at his joke and the others smiled in agreement.

"If the players are talented, the audience is usually well behaved," Drew said. "I was recently at a performance which was astounding. It was a small provincial troupe but their lead player was quite above the ordinary. His name is Edmund Kean and I found his acting totally electrifying. Mark you well his name as I feel he has the talent to quite put Kemble in the shade."

Blaine had seen Kean act and she too had felt overwhelmed at his performance. She leaned forward eagerly, anxious to hear Drew's critique of the man. "I believe I have heard of the man, Lord Farrington. Short, odious person I was told."

"That may be, Lady Yates," Drew answered gravely. "But as an actor he is unforgettable. When first he comes on stage there is invariably a rustle and some sniggers in the audience. He is short with narrow shoulders and a lithe body. I have heard he learned equestrian tricks in Saunder's circus and studied ballet and fencing which perhaps accounts for his agile movements. He has a slender face, topped by wildly curling black hair. He is not imposing as is Kemble but his dark eyes glow with a fiery passion that is evident even to the one shilling gallery."

"I have some acquaintance with Sarah Siddons, Lord Farrington," Blaine said, caught up in the interesting subject. "She did not think much of him. She remarked that he would never be a great actor because of his height."

"Do you really know Sarah Siddons, Bl-" At her gaffe, Fleur covered her mouth with her hands, eyes wide in horror as she stared at her sister.

"A word such as blast or blimey is considered very bad
ton
, my girl!" Blaine snapped to cover the gaffe. "Please apologize to the company or you will be thought of as fast."

"I am sorry," Fleur said, staring around in an agony of embarrassment. "I quite forgot myself in my excitement."

"Prettily said, my dear." Blaine caught her sister's eye and gave her a smile of encouragement. Fleur had done so well playing her part that she was entitled to the mistake. Heaven forbid there were no others. "Now to answer your question. Yes, I do know Sarah Siddons and she is a charming woman."

"But she's an actress," the irrepressible girl blurted out.

All charity she felt for her sister disappeared in the face of such a comment. "Despite what you might think, Fleur, the theatre is not fraught with vice and immorality. There is a certain amount of it to be sure but then look around at society and you will find many who are quite beyond the pale of respectability."

"Oh, I say, Lady Yates," Reggie gasped. "One can hardly compare the two."

"Do you feel society would be the poorer for the comparison?" Blaine dismissed the dandy with a cold look. "Sarah Siddons has done much to improve the performance of the actors. Many emulate her style, to the eternal gratitude of audiences."

"I have seen her many times, Lady Yates, and I agree with you," Robbie said. "Two years ago I came to town for her farewell performance as Lady Macbeth. I have never seen the part played so chillingly."

"She is wonderful, is she not?" Blaine smiled warmly in remembrance of her friend's many kindnesses. "Sometimes she could be quite outrageous. She once refused to go on until the attendants changed the carpet even though the performance was already in progress. It was her opinion that tragedies could only be played on a green carpet."

Under cover of the general laughter, Blaine watched Drew. When amused, his eyes crinkled at the corners and his generous mouth stretched in a broad grin. She had to admit, the man truly was a handsome devil.

"Do tell us more, Lady Yates," Reggie begged. "It is not often we have one among us who can tell us secrets of the famous Mrs. Siddons."

"I never tell secrets, Mr. Torrance," Blaine said, smiling to take the sting out of her setdown. "It was all a long time ago and many are privy to similar information so I shall not be considered a tattlemonger."

At this, the others burst into a chorus of denials that this would ever be the case.

"Do tell us more, Aunt Haydie," Fleur said, earning a nod of approval from her sister.

"Perhaps you have noticed the draperies that many of the actresses have taken to wearing." Receiving several nods, Blaine continued. "Some still stick to wearing the fashions currently in vogue but others have chosen to don the lovely flowing fabrics that Mrs. Siddons has made her trademark. Sarah always considered that the head and shoulders should be free to move naturally rather than to be restricted by the inventiveness of the milliner and hairdresser. She also felt that the shifting fashions did little to enhance an actress' performance since formal gowns were overdecorated with ribbons, lace and other fripperies."

"Her wardrobe has a very classical look to it. Was she influenced by the Greek theatre?" Drew asked.

"In a way," Blaine said, pleased that he had noticed. "Her very good friend, Mrs. Damer was a sculptress and it was through her interest in Greek statues that Sarah thought of the soft effect of the flowing draperies. But of course when she played tragedy, she wore heavier materials to lend dignity to the role."

"How sad that she is retired now," Fleur said. "From what you tell me I feel I have missed someone very special."

"She is that, child," Blaine answered. "But never fear. Sarah is an old warhorse. Occasionally she makes brief appearances and, true to the lady she is, it is invariably to benefit some other actor. Now enough of this chatter. You young people should be circulating instead of letting an old lady rattle on about her memories."

Despite their vociferous comments, Blaine shooed them away with the excuse she was tired and would just as soon sit quietly for a time. Robbie, Fleur and Reggie ambled away but to her dismay, Drew remained lounging in a chair beside the sofa. Her eyes met his in a question and he smiled.

"I too relish the quiet," he said. "Besides I wanted to speak to you to assure myself that all goes well with you. You have not been much in evidence."

"Just because I do not keep the unseemly hours of a rakehell is no reason to surmise that I am poorly," Blaine said. Despite her feeling that she ought not encourage him, she was unable to keep a spark of mischief from her eyes. "In truth, milord, everything is working out reasonably well. Your aunt's house and staff could not be more to our liking. I am quite sunk to all conscience at being so pampered."

"And Fleur?" he asked. He noted the quick dart of her eyes across the room and the quick worried look as she watched the little blond girl.

"I try to tell myself she is very young," she sighed. "But I confess to a strong urge to shake the girl until her teeth rattle. I would hate to see her throw away her chance for such a fine husband as Robbie because she is too bird-witted to appreciate the fine qualities of your brother."

"It is heady indeed to have such a bevy of admirers," Drew said. "I trust she will come around before Robbie loses his temper. Perhaps we are too hard on her."