At the Highwayman's Pleasure(32)

           



       

‘He shouldn't have done it,' she grumbled, helping Charity into her  wrap at the end of another tiring performance. ‘It's dead on your feet  you are, ma'am, and no mistake.'

‘I am not sleeping well,' admitted Charity. ‘But that has nothing to do with the play. Indeed, I like being busy.'

‘But 'tis the summer, Miss Charity, and you need a rest, I can see  that. Perhaps a little sea bathing. I hear that's very good for one.'

‘Then mayhap we will go back to Scarborough when this play is finished  and take the waters.' Charity sat in front of her mirror and began to  remove her headdress. ‘Betty, would you call upon Mr Jenkin and give him  my apologies? He is taking everyone to supper this evening, but I think  I should go home to my bed.'

‘Aye, I will.' Betty nodded. ‘Not that it's like you to be retiring straight after a performance. Just goes to show-'

She caught her mistress's eye in the mirror and was silenced. With her lips pressed firmly together she went out of the room.

Charity gave a sigh of relief. She was very fond of Betty; she had been  her maid and her dresser for many years and consequently was not afraid  to offer her opinions. She thought Charity was working too hard and she  said so. However, Charity knew it wasn't the work that was tiring her,  it was the sleepless nights, thinking of Ross Durden. She worried about  him, wondering each morning if he had been riding out that night, if he  had been caught. The fact that her father was in part responsible for  Ross's situation did nothing to help. She found herself wishing that the  kidnap plot had been successful and that Ross had obtained the justice  he was seeking. That would have meant her leaving Allingford,  disappearing lest her father beat the truth out of her about the Dark  Rider's true identity. It would have brought her no nearer to Ross, of  course, but sometimes she thought the price would have been worth it, if  it meant Ross could give up his dangerous double life.

I love him.

The words hovering around her consciousness for so long now rang in her  head, as clearly as if she had spoken aloud. Brushing out her curls,  she thought it ironic that after more than a decade in the theatre, when  many men, rich and poor, rakes and nobles, married or single, had  offered to lay everything they possessed at her feet, she should fall in  love with someone so ineligible, a man who had not courted her or made  her promises of undying devotion-in fact, he was so intent upon  rebuilding his estates and seeking justice from her father he had no  time for her at all.

‘It is a very sad state of affairs,' she told her reflection. ‘You have fallen for the one man whom you cannot have.'

She heard a knock on the door and immediately straightened, hope  rushing through her. Had he come at last? She turned to face the door,  but as it opened the smile of welcome died on her lips.

Phineas came into the room, his wife hanging on his arm.

‘No doubt you are wondering why we are here,' said Hannah with a glitteringly false smile.

‘Not to compliment me upon my performance, I suspect.' Charity's cool response made the other woman's eyes snap dangerously.

‘I have persuaded your father that he should talk to you.' Hannah came  farther into the room, her eyes taking in the colourful chaos of their  surroundings. Brightly hued gowns hung on a row of pegs on one wall,  while garishly patterned scarves were thrown over the dressing screen,  jostling for space with cream and white muslins. Charity hoped Hannah  was suitably incensed by the decadence of the opulent robe of gold  tissue that she had just removed and which was now draped suggestively  over the daybed in the corner. She eyed her visitors coldly.

‘We have nothing to say to each other.'

‘Word is out that you are my daughter,' said Phineas.

‘Mere rumours. You may be sure that I have not told anyone, not even those friends of yours you sent to question on me.'

‘Perhaps you have not spoken of the matter,' said Hannah. ‘Nevertheless  it is now generally understood that Phineas is your father.' She spread  her hands and gave a humourless smile. ‘Your fame is widespread, my  dear.'

‘Perhaps it was that damned highwayman,' snarled Phineas. He came  closer, bending to thrust his face close to hers. ‘Did you not tell him  your little secret? Did you not hatch that kidnap plot together?'

Charity forced herself not to lean away.

‘I have no idea what you are talking about.'                       
       
           



       

‘The Dark Rider,' he continued, his mouth contorted with anger. ‘Is he not your lover?'

Her heart gave a little leap of fright, but she reminded herself he had  no proof. As long as she remained strong and convincing he would have  to believe her. A puzzled frown creased her brow.

‘The Dark Rider,' she repeated slowly. ‘Ah, yes. I remember that was  what they called the man who held up our coach when I first came to  Allingford. He stole a kiss-dear me, it would appear that little  incident has been magnified out of all proportion.'

She saw the doubt in his eyes and allowed herself a smile.

‘You should check your facts before throwing out such accusations, sir.'

‘Now, now, Phineas.' Hannah pulled him away. ‘You know we agreed the  kidnap threat was all a sham. The fellow backed down quickly enough when  you called his bluff.'

‘Kidnap?' enquired Charity, looking bemused. ‘Who was kidnapped?'

‘Don't give me that innocent look, girl. I know your tricks!'

‘Phineas, this is not how we meant to go on,' said Hannah sharply. ‘We came to talk sensibly with your daughter.'

‘Daughter!' Phineas looked at Charity with undisguised loathing. ‘Do  you think I want it known that a child of mine is no better than a  common whore?'

Charity drew herself up. ‘How dare you come in here and insult me.'

‘Insult? It is no more than the truth. You parade yourself on stage, sell yourself-'

‘I am an actress, sir, nothing more, nothing less.'

‘Would you have me believe you are a virgin still?' He spat out the  words. ‘I have seen you on the stage. No one could think you an innocent  who has seen how you flaunt yourself. And this latest role, an Egyptian  queen-pah! A painted Jezebel making love to men, all in full view of  your audience-you could not be so convincing if you were not experienced  in such matters.'

She rose, keeping one hand on the dressing table to steady herself. She  was blazingly angry, but the old terror was fighting to get out as she  looked into her father's livid countenance. She was a woman now, not a  girl. He could not harm her; he could not take off his belt and thrash  her here in her own dressing room.

No matter how many times she repeated the words in her head, the  familiar fears were just under the surface and it was a struggle to keep  them down.

‘You have said quite enough,' she told him. ‘You should go now.'

‘My dear, pray do not be too hasty.'

Hannah addressed her, a patronising smile stretching her mouth while  her eyes remained cold. Charity wondered how Ross could ever have loved  this woman.

Hannah continued. ‘We do not want to quarrel, Charity, dear, but you  must see that the situation is impossible. Your father is a respected  man-'

‘Not in Allingford!'

‘A respected man,' repeated Hannah, ignoring Charity's interruption.  ‘It does his reputation no good to have you here, blatantly flaunting  yourself.'

‘That, madam, is nothing to do with me. I have a job to do-'

‘But you should not do it here,' Hannah retorted, her temper snapping.  ‘You must see how...how degrading it is for your father to have you  plying your trade in the next town.'

‘It is a respectable trade. I am not ashamed of it.'

‘But it would be better if you plied it elsewhere.'

‘Better for whom?' Charity asked her, noting the flush of angry colour building on the woman's cheeks.

‘This is getting us nowhere,' exclaimed Phineas. He turned his venomous  gaze upon Charity. ‘I know why you are here. You wish to humiliate me.  You know that I am opposed to all forms of play-acting-'

‘But your wife seemed to enjoy The Provok'd Husband. Is that not so, ma'am?'

‘Yes, I- No.' Hannah shot a nervous glance at Phineas. ‘One cannot help but be swept up in the moment....'

‘Aye, that is how the devil works, drawing in respectable people until  they cannot see the damage such evil is doing to their souls.'

‘Nonsense,' retorted Charity. ‘You hate to see anyone enjoying  themselves, it is as simple as that. This is a legally licensed theatre,  we are breaking no laws and I intend to remain here until I judge it is  time to leave.' She pointed to the door. ‘I have had a tiring day and I  would be obliged if you would both go. Now.'