Vintage Love (191 page)

“At any rate I’m not sorry I’ve come,” she said. “I had heard about his new grandeur but I scarcely conceived of such magnificence as this.”

“He entertains like a prince,” Grant agreed.

They began to circulate a little and she saw some faces she knew. Then, standing a distance away, she saw both Blake brothers and their female escorts. Sir Edward Blake seemed older than she recalled, his skin darker, no doubt from the Indian sun. He was with a petite girl with straw-colored hair and a pretty face.

Howard was standing near the two with his wife who was also rather small, dark-haired and attractive except for a nose which was too prominent and spoiled the balance of her features. It gave her face a feral look and she glanced about her from time to time as if somewhat uneasy. Howard looked much as she remembered him, if a little strained at the moment.

Grant noticed she was staring at the group and glancing at her asked, “Do you also know the Blakes?”

She felt her cheeks burn. “I knew Howard Blake very well before I married Lord Carter.”

“Amazing! You know he is married now. That’s his wife, Nell.”

She said, “I’ve heard about her.”

Uncomfortable at the sight of the Blake brothers, Mary suggested, “Let’s move on!”

“I’m afraid we can’t,” her escort said. “Howard Blake has seen you and is coming over.”

She saw this was indeed true. Howard had left his wife in the company of Sir Edward and the other girl and was making his way to where she and Grant were standing. He had to push some people aside to get across quickly and this he did with some hurried apologies.

At last he reached her and said, “May! It has been so long since we’ve met!”

“It has,” she said, extending her hand. “It is good to see you.”

“I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw you,” Howard said, staring at her in fascination. “Your years away from London have made you more beautiful.”

She blushed again. “Compliments were always your long suit!”

“I mean it,” he said.

“I’m told you have a wife,” she said, her eyes meeting his.

“I have,” he said. Then, “Would you like to meet her?”

“Not just now. It is so crowded. I saw what a time you had getting over here,” she said.

“It was well worth it,” Howard told her.

She gave him another meaningful glance. “It has been good seeing you again. But you must not neglect your wife.”

Now it was his turn to blush. He said, “You may be sure she is not neglected. I shall look forward to seeing you again at another time.”

“I’ve just opened in a new comedy at the Maiden Lane,” she said.

“Excellent,” Howard said. “I shall get tickets. Give my best to your parents!”

“I shall,” she promised.

Howard then lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it before he left. She saw him make his way more slowly back across the room and she also saw his dark-haired wife watching him with a suspicious look on her pointed features. It seemed that the rumors of her being jealous were correct.

Grant Curtis eyed her with amusement. “I can see you and Howard have been close friends.”

“Yes,” she said.

“I was surprised that he asked to be remembered to your parents,” he said. “Doesn’t he know they are merely your foster parents? At least that is what you told me.”

She was at a loss for a moment. Then she quickly said. “They
are
my foster parents but most of my friends have long since ceased to make that distinction. They merely refer to them as my parents.”

He accepted her explanation. “That is understandable.”

They moved down the room a little nearer where the musicians played. Conversation was almost impossible here between the music and the loud talk around them.

All at once she saw the gaudily clad Jeffrey coming toward them. He came up to Grant Curtis and said, “May I take this dear friend of mine aside for a moment?”

Grant Curtis did not look overjoyed at the prospect, but he bowed and said, “Certainly.” And to her, he added, “I shall await you here.”

Jeffrey led her out of the ballroom by a side door and then down a short hall to another door which led outside to a garden. Quite a number of ladies and gentlemen were out in the terraced garden strolling beneath the trees. Paper lanterns with candles had been strung about and the air was delightfully cool in contrast to the heat inside.

“It’s beautiful out here!” she exclaimed as they stood together in the moonlight.

“You are still more beautiful than anything I know,” Jeffrey said gazing at her with tender eyes. All hint of the fop disappeared as he drew her to him and kissed her ardently.

They stood there in each other’s arms in the fragrant, moonlit garden. He held her close to him for a long while and when he let her go, he said, “If you only knew how much I’ve wanted to see you!”

“You appeared to be in no hurry,” she replied. “You could have found me at the theatre or my home.”

Jeffrey’s manly face was grim. “I hate to go back to the theatre — it reminds me of too many things.”

She looked up at him earnestly. “It must remind you of the fine career you had and turned your back on!”

“Fine career!” he scoffed. “I was penniless when last I saw you.”

“But you had the ability,” Mary insisted. “It only needed a turn of the coin, a twist of fate, a little more perseverance, and you would have been successful! This is no life for you!”

“Why do you say that?” he said. “I have never lived so well before!”

“You are playing a part!” she said bitterly. “The host of this affair is not really you! Even if you have money there is no reason why you should not return to the theatre. I’m wealthy and I have.”

Jeffrey offered her a mocking smile. “You are also a great lady now, Lady Carter! My hat is off to you!”

She said, “I do not think marrying Lord Carter was wrong. I helped make an old man’s last years happier. But if I
did
do wrong you could have stopped me! I offered to marry you!”

Jeffrey was at once contrite. “Forgive me, Mary! You did no wrong! And I shall always remember that you did offer to become my wife.”

“I have never forgotten you,” she said. “If you still care for me you will shed all these false trappings and return to the theatre. I’m sure the Waddingtons would welcome you and we could act together again.”

“Too late,” he said. “I’ve committed myself to this!”

“It’s your choice,” she said. “You can change your way of life if you wish.”

“We will see,” Jeffrey said. “At least we have found each other again. Please let us continue to be friends and see each other.”

“I am agreeable to that,” she said.

“Good,” Jeffrey said.

“Do one thing for me.”

“What?”

“Come to the theatre occasionally,” she said. “Watch a rehearsal. I’m sure it would be good for you.”

The man in the orange waistcoat smiled wryly. “Let me think about it. Now I must take you back to your escort or incur his wrath. He did not look too pleased at my dragging you away from him.”

“Grant,” she said with a reflective smile.

“Is he important to you?”

“Just a friend, and neighbor,” she said.

“I think he’d like to be more than that to you. Be careful, Mary,” Jeffrey advised as he guided her back to the crowded ballroom.

Grant was waiting for her just where he’d said he would be. As she joined him, she said, “Jeffrey has been showing me the garden!”

“Much cooler out there, my dear chap,” Jeffrey said, lifting his quizzing glass and smiling. “If I were you I’d take the lady back out there.”

“Thank you for the suggestion,” Grant said cooly above the din.

Jeffrey left them and shortly thereafter she and Grant took their leave of the party. Noel Hastings was at the door to bid them goodnight.

She told the portly former actor, “I must go now and rest for tomorrow’s performance. Try and get Jeffrey to come see me at the theatre, and you come too.”

Noel Hasting’s pleasant old face showed a bleak smile as he said, “I’ll try, my dear. But I make no promises. He seems to have turned his back on the theatre.”

In the carriage on the way home Grant Curtis said, “You know Jeffrey well.”

“Very well,” she agreed.

The young man looked at her. “I’d say he is in love with you.”

“I wish I were as sure,” she said with a sigh.

In surprise, Grant said, “Then you admit you are in love with him?”

Mary nodded and said frankly, “I would marry him tomorrow if he would say the word.”

“And I brought you back together,” Grant Curtis said in despair.

She gave him a small, sad smile. “Yes, you did.”

“Does this mean there’s no hope for me?” the young man wanted to know.

“We are neighbors,” she said. “I think of you as a dear friend. But I can’t encourage you further.”

Grant said, “At least you’re being honest!”

“Honesty is important between friends, don’t you think?”

“I do,” the young dandy at her side said. “And I will be equally honest with you. I don’t intend to give up even though the odds seem against me.”

As if to underline this when he bade her goodnight he did not content himself with kissing her hand but took her in his arms and kissed her full on the lips. Caught by surprise she made no attempt to stop him but made up her mind to avoid compromising situations with him in the future.

Her days became busier than ever. She was once more a stage favorite and at the same time a darling of the London social set. The invitations were endless and often she didn’t accept them. She saw Jeffrey on many occasions and from time to time he acted as her escort. Grant Curtis finished her sculpture and presented it to her. It was a good likeness and she was duly grateful.

The young man continued to see her occasionally but he did not send her any more bouquets of roses. In spite of what he’d said she felt that he thought pursuing her romantically was a hopeless task and so had taken her advice and decided to content himself with her friendship. This pleased her.

They finished the run of the first comedy and Hector Waddington found her a second play. This was a drama entitled, “The Squire’s Revenge”. Hector played the villainous squire and Peg his good-hearted wife. Mary was the object of the Squire’s revenge who in the play was rescued by the hero. In many ways it reminded her of those distant days when the evil Squire Gordon had taken her property from her and set her adrift in London, an all but penniless orphan.

It was during the rehearsals of this play that Jeffrey first returned to the theatre. He sat in the audience watching the rehearsal until it was over. Then he came backstage and talked with the Waddingtons and all his other actor friends from the old days. It was easy to see that he thoroughly enjoyed the reunion.

Afterwards he took Mary to luncheon at a well known West End eating place called The Shropshire Lass’. They talked of many things across the table and she was glad to note he was less foppishly dressed and he’d left his quizzing glass at home.

She said, “They were all glad to see you today. You could rejoin us any time.”

Jeffrey looked sad. “Don’t tempt me!”

Mary eyed him with curiosity. “What is the source of your vast income?”

He was at once on guard. Vaguely, he said, “A large estate in Scotland.”

She followed up, “It must be extremely large to give you so great an income!”

“There’s a distillery making good marketable whiskey and other interests,” Jeffrey said. “That is why I must go back so often.”

She was puzzled by his change in manner. He seemed actually uneasy. She said, “You do make a number of journeys away from London.”

“Because I must,” he said irritably. “I’d rather not discuss it.”

Mary saw that he was serious and so dropped the subject. She didn’t want to create problems between them. At the same time she wondered about this mystery concerning his income. She continued to see him at intervals, generally at some party or occasionally he would come to the theatre for a rehearsal or a performance.

Though she received invitations to many of the finest homes in London she had never been invited to Blake House, until late in September when she received an engraved invitation asking that she attend a ball to be given at the great house in Benjamin Square by Mr. and Mrs. Howard Blake!

At first she felt she would prefer not to attend. The mansion would have nothing but grim memories for her. And no doubt Sir Edward Blake would be there and she flinched at the thought of facing him. But she had cared a lot for Howard and she knew the invitation must have been instigated by him. For this reason she decided she should attend. Her first choice of escort was Jeffrey but he sent a message declining, explaining he would be away from the city on that night.

She asked Grant Curtis to accompany her and he agreed at once. She could see by his manner that her seeking him out had given him renewed hope. This caused her some pangs of guilt since she’d only approached him because Jeffrey was to be in Scotland.

Peg and Hector Waddington were anxious about her returning to the house where she’d been wronged and told her so. Peg warned her, “I don’t think you’ll enjoy yourself!”

Hector’s lined face had shown concern as he added, “And you’ll undoubtedly be exposed to that evil Sir Edward Blake again.”

“I know how to handle that rake now,” she said, her eyes hard.

Peg said, “He has never recognized you. But I worry if he sees you too often he eventually will. Then he might cause you trouble.”

“I’m sure I’ll be perfectly safe or I wouldn’t think of going to the party,” she told the couple.

After the play ended she met Grant at the stage door and he had a rich, red rose to pin in her hair. He gave her a knowing smile, saying, “I think it appropriate for the occasion.”

When they reached the house in Benjamin Square she felt her throat tighten. Her nerves were on edge as she mounted the stairs with Grant Curtis at her side. And when they were received by Howard and his sharp-faced wife, Nell, she felt that she’d like to flee from the scene. Sir Edward Blake was next in line and his impression on her was no better.