At the Highwayman's Pleasure(31)

‘Yes, perhaps the Lakes.'

‘Good. Then it is settled. And once you are rested,' Hywel continued,  pulling her hand through his arm, ‘you will sign with me for next  season-let us go and tell your admirers the good news!'

Hywel led her around the room, making sure that Charity spoke to all  the richer patrons, then introducing her to others who he hoped would  soon join their ranks.

‘And these gentlemen are come all the way from Beringham to watch the  play tonight.' He stopped before them. ‘Mrs Weston, if I might present  to you Sir James Fryton and Mr Keldy.'

Not by the flicker of an eyebrow did Charity indicate that she knew  those names, but she looked closely at the gentlemen as they bowed to  her. Both were well-dressed country gentlemen, ruddy-faced and  round-bellied. They were smiling now, but there was something forced  about their genial expressions that put her on her guard.

‘Delighted to meet you, m'dear,' murmured Sir James, lifting his quizzing glass to examine her.

‘And I,' declared Mr Keldy, his whiskery jowls quivering as he smiled.  ‘A masterly performance, madam, and worth the drive from Beringham.'

‘I understand there is no theatre there,' she remarked, watching them carefully. ‘Nor much of any type of entertainment.'

‘Oh, we manage.' Sir James gave a hearty laugh.

‘Is this your first time at the theatre, Mr Keldy?'

‘Oh, no, no, Sir James and I have seen most of your performances,  ma'am. We came at first out of curiosity-your name, you see,' he  continued, when she merely looked at him. ‘Weston. The same as our local  justice.'

Beside her Hywel was on the alert. Both men were watching Charity  closely. Knowing they were friends of her father, she suspected they had  been sent here to report back to him. But would he have told them she  was his daughter? Charity thought not. Phineas was too ashamed of the  connection to make it known.

Hywel said quickly, ‘Many actresses take a stage name, gentlemen.'

She gave a carefree laugh.

‘We do indeed. And the reports I have heard of your Mr Weston is that  he is no friend of the theatre. So you see, we could not be more  different.'

‘Of course, of course,' chuckled Keldy, looking relieved. ‘Nothing but a hum. I knew it all along.'

‘You were fortunate that the snow did not disrupt your production,'  purred Sir James. ‘I understand you, Mrs Weston, were prevented from  attending the first rehearsals.'

She had been expecting this and had her answer and her smile ready.

‘Why, yes, so foolish of me. I went off to spend a night with friends in York and then could not get back.'

‘How frustrating for you.' Sir James gave an artificial titter. ‘And so  worrying for your many admirers-why, there was even a rumour in  Beringham that you had been abducted.'

She opened her eyes.

‘Abducted?' Charity's own laugh sounded perfectly natural and full of  amusement. ‘How absurd. Such drama because I missed two rehearsals.' She  bent a quizzical look upon them. ‘I hope you did not think anything  wanting in my performance?'

Both men quickly disclaimed and after a few more words Charity moved on.

‘Friends of your father, I take it?' murmured Hywel, when they were out of earshot.

‘Yes. Sent here to spy upon me.'

‘But why should they think you had been kidnapped?'

She spread her hands. ‘Oh, you know how these silly rumours will spread.'

‘Could it be that he has some paternal concerns for you after all this  time?' She threw him a look of disdain and he added quickly, ‘Surely it  is not impossible that he has had a change of heart-'

‘Phineas has no heart,' she retorted. ‘The rumours will be an annoyance and he is afraid I shall publicly confirm them.'                       
       
           



       

They moved on around the rooms and Charity strove to put both her  father and Ross from her mind while she mingled with the crowd. It was  late in the evening when she noted the visitors who lived on the  Beringham road gathered about Sir Mark, discussing the latest attack on  the highway. Charity moved closer.

‘The Scarborough mail was attacked again only last week,' announced one worried gentleman.

‘But on the other side of the county border,' explained Sir Mark  patiently. ‘I have to defer to Justice Weston to deal with that.'

‘Are we sure it was the same man?' asked another.

‘Undoubtedly.' The first nodded. ‘The description was unmistakable. Big fellow with an Irish accent.'

‘And he took a purse off me a couple weeks' back,' added Sir James Fryton, unable to contain himself. ‘Damned scoundrel.'

‘I hear Weston has put up a reward,' put in Lady Beverley.

Mr Keldy nodded. ‘Aye. A hundred guineas. And he is organising patrols  to hunt the fellow down. It will only be a matter of time before we  catch him.'

‘Well, that will be good news,' said Sir Mark. ‘We cannot have such  disruption on the King's highway.' He looked about him, smiling  benignly. ‘However, I have had no reports of the fellow being seen this  side of Beringham, so you need none of you be anxious about your journey  home this evening.' He caught sight of Charity standing on the edge of  the group. ‘And of course those of us who live in Allingford have  nothing to fear at all.'

Charity returned his smile. If only they knew!

She turned away, stifling a sigh. If only she could see Ross, but it  was too dangerous, and she would never forgive herself if he was caught  because of her. Ross might consider that his cause was just, but if he  was arrested he would be hanged like a common felon. So she must keep  her distance, act as if they had never been more than casual  acquaintances. She tried hard to put the man from her thoughts, but that  was not easy when his absence was like a constant, physical ache deep  inside.

* * *

A dozen times a day Charity found herself thinking of Ross, wondering  what he was doing, hoping he was safe, and a dozen times a day she told  herself to forget him. There could be no future with such a man, but  somehow he had become lodged in her heart and no amount of reason could  remove him.

Charity was glad that there was no break in her work. They were opening  with The School for Scandal in two days, and rehearsals would soon  begin for All for Love. This was the first time the company had  performed the tragedy, so backcloths had to be painted and costumes  selected. Many of the cast wanted hoops and wigs, but Charity argued  that since the play was about the Egyptian queen Cleopatra they should  wear a more ancient costume. Hywel supported her, citing the example of  the great Mrs Siddons.

‘We should dress you all in the Greek style,' he suggested. ‘For the  ladies there will be sandals-no stockings-and muslin draperies. Except  for Mrs Weston. For you, my dear, it should be gold tissue, as befits a  queen. I will send for the cloth now, if your dresser can make it up.'

‘I can make up anything my mistress requires,' affirmed Betty, on her mettle.

‘Then that is settled. We will work on the designs tomorrow. The  handbills will say that we are presenting an authentic history. And  besides,' he added, rubbing his hands together, ‘the gentlemen will go  wild to see the actresses so scantily clad.'

‘Nay, since the fashion now is for these skimpy muslins they'll be as  properly dressed as the audience,' declared Betty, raising a laugh from  everyone.

* * *

The weeks passed in a hectic round of activity, and if Charity was not  able to forget Ross, she was at least able to put him to the back of her  mind during the day. At night it was a different matter and she was  prey to strange dreams, dreams where she was naked in Ross's arms and he  was kissing her, rousing in her such a need that she would wake, crying  for she knew not what.

She would recover, she told herself. She was attracted to Ross Durden  because he was so different from any other man she knew-dangerous, but  kind, too, in his own way-and she had glimpsed a touch of humour in him,  a seductive glimmer that had her believing it was more than a mere  physical attraction. But it could not be, so she would be wise to forget  him.

May brought warmer weather and the opening of Mr Dryden's play, which  was well received. Charity threw herself into the role of Cleopatra.  After the recent comedies she found the tragedy much more taxing and  returned to her dressing room each night emotionally drained. However,  the audiences were appreciative and she raised no demur when Hywel  announced they would give another eight performances. Betty was not so  sanguine and made no attempt to hide her disapproval.