Vintage Love (185 page)

Once they ventured into Benjamin Square and she found herself trembling despite all the good fortune she’d known since she’d lived there. Fortunately Jeffrey didn’t notice how upset she was and went on chatting as they strolled along. When they were in sight of Blake House she saw its door open and Lady Blake come out accompanied by her son, Edward. The devious Edward was wearing a colorful army uniform. The two entered a waiting barouche and to her relief it drove off in the opposite direction.

So Edward had joined the army! It was a likely career for a titled gentleman’s son, especially now that the war with the French was at an end and being an officer in His Majesty’s forces would be relatively safe. Trust Edward to look after his own skin, she thought bitterly.

She and Jeffrey went on to Regent’s Park where he rented a row boat and they spent an hour enjoying the sunshine and fresh air out on the pond. It was while they were drifting on the sunlit ripples that he rested from his exertions at the oars and asked her, “Mary, will you marry me?”

Mary found the question a startling one. She knew she cared deeply for Jeffrey and was sure he had a sincere regard for her. But she had not thought that he would ask her to be his wife.

She hesitated and then said, “I do care for you, Jeff!”

The brown-haired actor rebuked her, “That is not an answer to my question.”

“I know,” she said slowly.

“Well?” he said.

She sighed. “There is no one else. And I do feel I might be able to be your wife one day. But aren’t we rushing things?”

“I think not.”

“I do,” Mary said. “I have not been with the Waddingtons for very long. Nor have I had much stage experience.”

He said, “You are now a star. All London flocks to see you.”

“It’s all so new to me,” Mary said. “We have our work on the stage together and we spend most of our free time in each other’s company. Isn’t that enough?”

Jeffrey said, “It is no longer enough for me.”

“I’m sorry,” she told him. “I was very confused and afraid when the Waddingtons took me in. I do not wish to leave them so soon. They look on me as their own daughter.”

The young actor frowned. “That is the problem. I know they have great ambitions for you. They probably would not approve of your marrying me. And soon, I’m going to leave the Maiden Lane Theatre.”

This was unwelcome news to her. She said, “You are?”

“Yes,” he said. “You remember I plan on forming my own company. I think it time I left Hector Waddington’s management. Noel Hastings has agreed to join me in the venture.”

Noel Hastings was a stout, old character actor who was one of the mainstays of the Maiden Lane Theatre Company. She said, “Noel is a fine actor. You are fortunate that he is willing to join you.”

“That is why I must make my decision fairly soon,” the young man said. “And I want you for my wife and leading lady.”

Mary hesitated. “It is a wonderful offer.”

“The question is, will you accept it?”

“Will you be playing in London?”

He shook his head. “I must make my name in the provinces first. Then I can get bookings in London. But not until I’m known elsewhere.”

“I can’t answer you now,” she said. “Pray let me consider it.”

Jeffrey nodded. “I have no desire to press you. But, dear Mary, I had to tell you how I feel.”

Nothing more was said as they became busier with the final rehearsals of “Taming Of The Shrew”. Yet Mary gave it much thought and secretly worried about it. One day at rehearsal the portly Noel Hastings, who was playing her father, took her aside backstage.

“Have you decided to throw your lot in with us?” the old actor asked hopefully.

“You mean Jeffrey’s new company?”

“What else?” he said. “The lad is counting on you. I hope you won’t let him down.”

Mary said, “I’m giving the matter serious thought.”

“We will be leaving in a month or so,” the stout Noel Hastings said. “You must be prepared to decide before then.”

Mary promised that she would. But then the play opened and she forgot everything else for a while. It was a tremendous success and the night after its opening rumors flew around backstage that the Prince Regent himself was coming to see it. Everyone was excited and Mary found it hard to believe.

But shortly before curtain time Hector Waddington came to her dressing room and informed her proudly, “The Prince Regent will be here tonight and he is holding a party after the performance. A few of us, including you and Jeffrey, have been invited to attend.”

She gasped. “I have no proper gown!”

The old actor smiled. “That will be no problem. It is the wish of the Prince Regent that you attend in your dress as Katherina. And Jeffrey, likewise, will wear his costume as Petruchio.”

Mary said, “I shall be so nervous I won’t be able to give a decent performance.”

“My child, when the lights come up and the curtains part, all will be well, mark my words,” Hector assured her.

And the veteran actor proved right. Though she was vaguely aware of the royal party sitting in the box reserved for them she soon forgot their presence in her dedication to playing the brawling Katherina. The audience was receptive and the play went better than ever before.

As soon as the curtain came down a disgruntled Jeffrey turned to her onstage and said, “I resent our being put on show for that royal oaf!”

“The Prince Regent?”

“Who else?” Jeffrey asked impatiently.

“I think it will be a splendid adventure whether he is an oaf or not,” Mary said with a smile. “Especially as you will be present along with Hector and Peg.”

“I was considering refusing to attend,” Jeffrey said.

“You must accept the invitation if only for the good of the company,” she told him.

The party of four from the theatre company left in a carriage for the royal soirée. On their arrival they were led into a grand ballroom where the festivities were already taking place. Musicians were playing at one end of the room and a number of nobles and their ladies were engaged in a stately dance. The chandeliers shed a soft glow over the sea of glittering jewels, evening gowns, uniforms, and the elegant attire of Regency rakes at their most magnificent.

The rotund Prince Regent was seated in a high-backed chair near the entrance to the room and a Colonel Atwater took the theatre party over and presented them to the royal personage. An agreeable smile spread over his broad face and he murmured politely to Hector and Peg, but gave special attention to Jeffrey and Mary.

“Gad! You two made a splendid pair of hostile lovers,” he said with a chuckle.

“Thank you, Your Highness,” Mary said with her deepest stage curtsey.

He gestured for her to rise. “Do you truly have such a wicked temper?” the Prince Regent asked her.

“I think not, Your Highness. It is Shakespeare who wrote the lines,” she said.

“And damme he wrote them well!” the portly Prince Regent roared. “And you play them well! Go and enjoy the dancing, both of you! You’ve quarreled enough tonight on the stage!” And he spluttered with laughter at his own joke. The Colonel and the other syncophants gathered around him joined in the merriment.

Jeffrey, red-faced, led her away from the Prince Regent in the direction of the dance floor. “Now we must perform like trained monkeys!” he raged.

“You mustn’t be so sensitive,” Mary reproved him. “I want to enjoy the music and the dancing!”

And they did. They were the center of attention in their stage costumes. As they danced into the early morning hours among the brilliant company she found herself with a number of partners. Jeffrey was equally sought out by the ladies of the royal party and now seemed quite happy with it all.

She finished a gavotte with the Colonel who had first introduced her to the Prince Regent when suddenly a new face presented itself. She almost gasped her shock. It was Edward Blake who had come to pay his compliments, resplendent in a blue Dragoon’s uniform.

“Miss Waddington,” he said, eyeing her appreciatively through a quizzing glass, “I was at the theatre tonight. You were delightful!”

Mary realized at once that he did not recognize in the poised young actress the kitchen slavey he’d cruelly taken advantage of.

Boldly she opened her fan and waved it languidly as she said, “You are so kind! I’m delighted to have a compliment from such a handsome officer.”

The Colonel said, “This is Captain Edward Blake, of our regiment!”

She raised an eyebrow. “Are you a relation to Sir John Blake?”

“My father,” Edward said smugly.

“Indeed,” she said, widening her eyes in pretended surprise.

“May I have the next dance, Miss Waddington?”

“No thank you,” she said archly. She gave the older Colonel a coy smile. “I’d much rather stay and chat with the Colonel. I find him
so
interesting.”

It was her moment of triumph. Edward’s handsome face crimsoned and he bowed. “Very well,” he said coldly and walked away.

For Mary this was the highlight of the evening. It made amends for some of the humiliation she’d suffered at Edward Blake’s hands.

Jeffrey was quite drunk on the way home and held her in his arms and sang love songs to her. Hector and Peg Waddington, seated across from them in the carriage, watched with interest, and a certain disapproval.

The next morning Hector took occasion to have a serious talk with Mary in the drawing room of their lodgings. Peg was not present and the veteran actor was serious as he sat with Mary on the divan.

“You were a great success at the party last night,” he said.

“I’m glad. I think our going there will help the company.”

Hector Waddington nodded. “I’m sure of it. The Prince Regent has promised to return again to see you as Katherina.”

She blushed, “I’m sure he is too generous in his opinion of my performance.”

The actor said, “He likes pretty girls. And you are an extremely pretty girl. But I wish to discuss another matter with you.”

“Yes?” She waited to hear what it might be.

“In a word, Jeffrey!”

“Jeffrey?”

“Yes,” the old actor said. “I understand that he and Noel Hastings are leaving the Maiden Lane Theatre to establish their own company and to tour the provinces.”

“I have heard so,” she agreed.

Hector gave her a sharp look. “Has he talked to you about this?”

“Yes,” she said.

“I noticed when he was drinking last night he showed great affection for you. Peg noticed it as well,” the actor-manager said.

Mary paused. “He has asked me to marry him.”

“I thought so,” the old actor said with a sigh. “And I may say that Peg and I have encouraged your friendship with him. He is a fine, talented, young man.”

Her eyes widened. “Then you think I should accept him? He wants me to be his wife and leading lady of the new company.”

The veteran actor looked weary. “I’m sorry, my dear. But I cannot recommend you taking either offer.”

“No?”

“Jeffrey is a good actor but not a great one. I doubt that he will succeed as an actor-manager. And unless he is a success your role as his wife would be dismal. The theatre can treat its people cruelly.”

“You and Peg have done well,” she pointed out.

“We are the exceptions,” he said. “And before this we had long years of hardships.”

She said quietly, “I did not tell him I would go with him.”

“You mustn’t,” Hector warned her. “Not just now when you are building your own reputation in London.”

“Nor do I want to desert you and Peg,” she said.

“Deserting us is not the important thing,” the old actor assured her. “What matters is what it might do to your own life. Wait and see whether Jeffrey succeeds. Meanwhile you will be bound to meet other young men.”

She said, “None that I shall like better than Jeffrey.”

“Perhaps not,” he said. “If so you can always go to him. Or he can come back to you. I watched you last night at the royal party. You were as great a lady as any of them. I see no reason why you may not find a wealthy and titled husband who would give you a fine life.”

“The theatre is my life,” she protested.

“The time will come when your looks fade and you are weary,” the veteran actor warned her. “Then you might well be happy to have a wealthy husband to take care of you. It is something to think about.”

She was thinking about Edward Blake as she said firmly, “I do not wish to marry for money or title. I think one should only marry for love!”

Hector Waddington spread his hands. “That’s the way it is in plays, but in real life there are other considerations. At least I have your word you will not go away with Jeffrey, and that you will reserve your decision about whether to marry him for a while.”

“You have my solemn promise,” she said.

The weeks went by with shocking swiftness. Soon the day came for her parting with Jeffrey. She was in the theatre rehearsing the role of Beatrice in “Much Ado About Nothing” when he came backstage to say goodbye. They stood alone in the wings solemnly facing each other.

“I shall miss you,” Jeffrey told her.

She gazed up at him. “Don’t forget me!”

“Small chance of that,” he said bitterly.

“Who is your new leading lady?”

“A girl from a touring company which has just broken up. She has talent and looks but she’s not a May Waddington!”

She smiled. “I’m sure you’ll do well with her.”

“I’ll manage,” he said. “But I shall always see your ghost standing behind her on the stage.”

“Write to me,” she begged him. “Write to me often!”

“I’ll have a great deal to do,” he warned her. “I’ll be acting and managing the tour. It won’t be easy. But I shall write whenever I find a moment.”

“You may be sure of a prompt reply from me,” she said.

“Don’t let being a London star go to your head and don’t become too friendly with any of the Prince Regent’s toadies!”

She laughed. “No fear of that I intend to work hard.”

“I must go,” Jeffrey said with a heavy sigh. “Old Noel is outside in a carriage waiting for me.” He gazed at her with sad eyes and then took her in his arms and kissed her tenderly.