Vintage Love (175 page)

Charles sighed. “And all the while I wrote you letters from the front, I had the sincere hope that you were coming around to my point of view. That you were gradually falling in love with me.”

“I am so fond of you, dear Charles!”

“But I do not stimulate the torment of love in you my brother does,” the young man in the red and blue uniform said bitterly.

“Do not be cruel to me, Charles,” she begged him.

He patted her hand. “I have no wish to do that, believe me. But I was shocked and hurt when I heard from George that you two had become lovers again.”

“I’m sorry.”

“His plight is desperate enough as it is,” Charles said. “If his affair with you came out it would prove such a strong motive for his murdering Virginia that I’m sure any jury would convict him.”

“But that kind of violence was never in our minds!”

“A jury might find it hard to believe,” the young officer said dryly. “Thank goodness you have kept it a secret. The newspapers would make much of it.”

“I don’t care what it might do to my career but I worry that it might hurt George’s defence,” she said.

“And you are quite right in that,” Charles told her. “I have talked a long while with George and he is concerned more for you than himself. He is resigned to whatever fate may have in store for him.”

“That is his weakness,” she exclaimed. “He is not the kind of fighter you are. You must give him support and help him find the courage he needs to win his case!”

“I will do all I can,” Charles said. “I have talked to Dora. She mentioned her visits to you. I can take over the task of messenger now. In fact, it might be wise if we were publicly seen together. Let your name be linked with mine.”

“To throw any who might suspect off the track?”

“Exactly.”

“I can see the sense in that,” she agreed. “And yet it will keep me in as close touch with George as is possible, since you will be in constant daily contact with him.”

“True. Dora is doing a fine job with the youngsters.” He paused. “You will not mind my saying this, but
she
is the one whom George should have loved and married. Neither you nor Virginia could supply him with the kind of support offered by Dora.”

Fanny grimaced. “You may be all too right in that. I have thought of it myself.”

He nodded, then started on another theme, saying, “I’m happy to tell you that George has the best possible defence in the person of Mr. Charles Williams, Mr. Montagu Matthews and Mr. W. S. Robinson.”

“I know little of such matters so I do not recognize the names,” she said. “I’m glad that in your view he has a good firm of solicitors.”

“I’m fully satisfied,” Charles said. “I have talked most with Montagu Matthews whom I like the best. The trial has been set for Thursday morning, November 8th at ten-thirty.”

“So soon!”

“Better to get it over with,” he said. “The longer the wait, the more time the papers have to write sensational stories.”

“I can see that,” she said.

“The Judge will be Mr. Justice Hawkins, who has the reputation of being severe in cases of this sort.”

“Who heads the prosecution?”

“The Solicitor-General himself,” Charles said grimly. “None other than Sir Alan Norville. So the public may be sure that their peers are being prosecuted by the best talents and shown no special favors.”

Fanny said, “The fact that George has a title will go against him, if anything.”

“I’m afraid so,” Charles agreed.

“I must be there in court,” she insisted.

“It will not be a pleasant experience.”

“I must be there with him!”

Charles gave her a warning look. “It also might be risky.”

“Not if I come with you,” she said. “Especially if we carry out our plan of being seen in public places together. It will only look as if I have come as your lady friend.”

“I suppose we might take the chance,” Charles said with caution. “I think we ought to begin by having dinner at the Holburn House tonight. Enough people will see us there.”

Fanny hesitated, remembering her promise to have dinner with David Cornish. She said, “I’d like to, but—”

“But what?”

“I have already promised to have dinner with an actor friend who has asked me to become a member of his company.”

Charles wrinkled his brow. “Surely you can cancel that. Our being seen together is urgent now. I heard about the theatre burning and realize you must consider your career. But which is more important to you—George, or your future in the theatre?”

She said, “There can be no question. At this moment George urgently needs my allegiance.”

“So that must solve it,” the young captain said. “Leave word with the old lady that a friend has unexpectedly returned from the Crimea and you could not refuse him the pleasure of your company on his first evening in London.”

Fanny hesitated only a moment more. “Very well,” she said. “I’ll do it. But we must leave before seven. That is when he is coming for me.”

“We can leave whenever you are ready,” Charles promised her.

They dined together in the Grand Salon of the Holburn Restaurant in view of what seemed half of fashionable London. An orchestra played sedately at one end of the room and the food and drink was as elegant as the company. Fanny selected quail as her main dish while Charles decided on salmon. It was one of her first appearances in public since the fire and she was aware that many eyes were on her and her handsome soldier escort.

Charles smiled across the table at her and said, “I can hear the whisperings about us gathering like the in-coming waves of the ocean.”

“I’m not sure I enjoy it,” she told him.

“But you are used to being in public view on the stage. I’m a modest soldier normally exposed to only a small band of my fellow officers. The ordeal is bound to be worse for me.”

“I contradict that,” she said. “Being on display here has little in common with appearing in a role behind the guarding footlights.”

“You must give a light-hearted performance. Show no worries or the whole purpose of our little excursion on the town will be defeated. You wouldn’t want that!”

“No, I wouldn’t want that,” she said, managing a smile. All the while she was filled with concern about George and feeling guilty for having broken her engagement with David Cornish. David did not deserve such treatment.

The evening went well. Several theatre-goers paused by their table and asked Fanny when she would be appearing on the London stage again. She mentioned the opening of the David Cornish company and said she hoped to be the leading lady in his productions.

It was past ten when Charles saw her to the door of the flat. He said, “This evening has meant a lot to me, apart from what we may have done to help George. I shall keep in touch with you and we must be seen together often.”

Standing in the shadowed hall with him, she begged him, “When you see George, give him my love!”

“I shall,” he promised. “And do you not have even a single chaste good-night kiss for his brother?”

“Goodnight, Charles,” she said gently. “And thank you!” Her kiss was brief and surely chaste but seemed to satisfy him.

Inside she consulted Hilda, who had gone to bed. She roused the old woman from her sleep and asked, “How did it go? What did David say?”

Hilda, in her nightcap, blinked sleepily at her. “What do you expect? He was hurt and angry!”

She sank down on the side of the bed. “I knew he would be!”

“Can you blame him?”

“No.”

“I stressed the fact that Captain Palmer was a war hero but it didn’t make much difference to him,” the old woman said. “He left with the promise of coming to ask you for an explanation in the morning.”

“I see,” Fanny said dully.

“What are you going to do?”

Fanny looked down at the carpet. “I shall have to tell him the truth. In fairness, I can do no less. Now that Charles has returned I shall be seeing him a lot. He will be my link with George.”

Hilda gave her a concerned look. “You have another course! Desert this unhappy love and lover. Refuse to see the soldier brother as well! Give your future to the theatre and David. It is what you were born for!”

Fanny could not help but be startled by the old woman’s impassioned words. And she knew well that Hilda Asquith might be right. This was her last chance to free herself from George. She was not sure that he would allow her to return to the stage even if he were acquitted and they eventually were married. He might refuse to let her return to acting.

And acting was her life! She knew that now just as her father had known it long ago. But her sense of loyalty and her love for George would not let her desert him in his desperate hour of need. She must stand by and see the outcome of the trial before thinking about her own future. And she must be frank in explaining all this to David Cornish.

She broke away from these sobering thoughts to tell the old woman, “I may be making the wrong choice. But I cannot see that I have an alternative. Tomorrow I shall be completely honest with David.”

Following an almost sleepless night she felt little prepared for her confrontation with the young actor-manager. She put on her favorite rose moire gown and tried to bide her pallor and weariness by spending time on a flattering new hair-style.

David arrived promptly at eleven as he had said. She bade him to sit with her on the settee but he refused, and insisted on standing through her long and uneven explanation. Somehow she managed to tell it all. Then she looked up at his stern, young face and waited for his reaction.

It came soon enough as he said angrily, “So this is the man you have loved since your girlhood! This titled murderer!”

“George is not that!”

David Cornish made a dramatic gesture of disgust with his hand, thrusting away her protest. “The court seems to think so since they are putting him on trial for the murder of his wife!”

“He must be declared innocent!”

“That remains for a jury to decide,” David reminded her.

“I cannot help my love for him,” she said, a sob in her voice.

David knelt by her and took her hand in his. “You have foolishly given yourself to this man long enough. And what have you received in return? A few furtive rendezvous and the total loss of your peace of mind. You’ve even threatened your career.”

“I had no choice. Neither did he. Our love was too strong for us to cope with!”

“That sounds like a line from a badly-written melodrama,” David said scornfully. “Now his brother is using you. Between them all they will ruin you. Give up this senseless love and dedicate yourself to the theatre where you belong!”

She looked at him sadly. “A woman needs more than a career. I want love and affection as well.”

“I offer you that,” David told her. “I will marry you tomorrow if you say the word, or you can ask me to wait until you are ready, and I will. In the meantime you can go on to further glory on the London stage under my guidance.”

“I do not question your genius for the stage,” she said. “Nor do I know a better friend, than the one I have in you.”

David’s sterness vanished a little. “In that case the matter should be settled.”

“It’s not that easy!” she protested. “You must be patient a little longer. Wait until the trial is over. Then I shall give you my answer.”

His face shadowed again. “And if he is acquitted? Will you marry him?”

“I’m not sure how I’ll feel then,” she said. “Or what his feelings will be!”

“And if he is convicted?”

“The conviction must be appealed,” she said. “I know him to be innocent.”

“Either way you are throwing your lot in with him and turning your back on me and the real people in your life!” David said angrily. “Do this and you will live to hate yourself!”

“There is hatred in my feelings now!”

He got to his feet again. “I find it hard to believe. You are so intelligent in other ways. In this you are a hopeless case.”

She looked down. “I’m sorry, David.”

“I wonder about that,” he said bitterly. “And I promise you I’m going ahead with my plans, with you or without you. I shall begin rehearsals on the fifth. If you are not at the Windsor for the first rehearsal I shall find a replacement for you.”

“I understand,” she said quietly. “You are justified in all that! I ask nothing of you!”

He sighed. “The sad thing is, you could have anything I have to offer. Everything that is mine! But nothing that I offer balances your love for that murderer!”

She broke into sobs at this but he did not attempt to offer her solace. Instead he angrily picked up his hat and cane and strode out of the apartment, slamming the door after him. In effect, she realized, he was walking out of her life.

• • •

The days and nights which followed were not easy ones for her. The news concerning George would be good one day and bad the next. His attorneys were filled with confidence about their case on Monday and by Wednesday morning would find some weakness in their argument. In the meanwhile she continued to see Charles and he gave her all the support he could.

They went out together enough for the gossips to note their friendship. Yet he never embarrassed her by trying to press his own case while the fate of his brother hung in the balance. Fanny did not know which bothered her most, her concern for George or her estrangement from David Cornish.

Hilda had begun rehearsals with the actor-manager and she brought daily news of what was happening at the theatre home to Fanny. David had selected a new comedy for his first play and when she had not shown up he had found another young actress of talent to take her place.

Hilda told her, “I’m sure he’d chuck her in a minute and make her understudy if you were to join us. This girl is not a quarter the actress you are.”

“You know it’s impossible, Hilda,” she said wearily. “The trial begins Thursday and I must be there.”

“You should be in the theatre and not a courtroom,” the elderly actress said. “The theatre is where you belong!”

Fanny put her arm around Hilda. “I’m sorry, dear Hilda. I do hate deserting you all!” But she knew nothing would change her mind.