‘Calm down, sir,’ said the other, both hands aloft. ‘You are perfectly entitled to dispose of your capital as you wish. I accept that. But there’s really no need to hector me. Anybody would think that this was a matter of life and death.’
It was all that Beyton could do to retain his self-control.
CHAPTER TWENTY
One of the most enjoyable ways in which Hannah Granville could pass the day was to embark on a shopping expedition. She always spent more time examining items than actually buying them but that, too, could be pleasurable. Since she was now well known by sight to any theatregoers, she needed the protection of a man and had the company that morning of Felix Dalrymple. As they strolled down Piccadilly, past Fortnum and Mason, the grocers, and past John Hatchard, the celebrated bookshop, they looked a handsome pair. There was no need for Hannah to carry any money because her fame was enough to command instant credit and she’d already run up a large bill at a milliner’s in Conduit Street and a dressmaker’s in Bruton Street. To be able to say that they served such a fine actress was a persuasive advertisement for both shops. While she revelled in her morning promenade, she was conscious that her companion might not get the same satisfaction from the endless perusal of dresses, hats, and the multiple accessories that went with him. After spending the best part of half an hour choosing a new purse, she turned to Dalrymple.
‘Have I bored you enough, Felix?’
‘You could never bore me,’ he said, gallantly.
‘Perhaps you wish to do some shopping on your own account.’
‘There’s nothing of which I have immediate need, Hannah, so I am content to watch you bringing joy into the mundane lives of shopkeepers.’
She laughed. ‘I don’t flatter myself that I do that.’
‘While you are inspecting their wares, I am watching those who serve you and they are invariably excited by your presence in their establishments. The longer you stay, the more thrilled they are.’
‘I like to dress well and making the right choices takes time.’
‘The result is always exquisite.’
She squeezed his arm by way of thanks for his compliment. Strolling on, they came to a shop with bolts of fabric in the window. The bright colours and the subtle sheens caught Hannah’s eye.
‘Could you bear to indulge me yet again, Felix?’
‘I’ll do so willingly.’
‘You’re too kind.’
‘Not at all,’ he said, complacently, ‘I relish my position as a figure of constant male envy. You turn heads wherever you go, Hannah, and, as a result, I reap a harvest of jealousy. Step inside the shop and it will happen yet again.’
His prophecy was fulfilled the moment she entered the emporium. Ignoring their wives or female companions, every man in there gazed at her with undisguised interest before shooting an envious glance at Dalrymple. The manager abandoned the customer to whom he was talking and scuttled across to her, bowing as if in the presence of royalty and rubbing his hands together.
‘You are most welcome, Miss Granville,’ he said. ‘How may I help you?’
‘We’ve come only to look.’
He stood out of her way. ‘Then please do so as long as you wish.’
‘Thank you.’
She began to examine the various fabrics on display, feeling their quality as she did so. Dalrymple waited patiently, offering a smile to the men still staring at them. A few people walked past and offered her compliments on her performance. Hannah thanked them graciously but took care never to engage in conversation with any of her admirers. As she moved further into the establishment, she was suddenly confronted by Charlotte Skillen, who let out a cry of delight.
‘Good morning, Miss Granville,’ she said, ‘what a happy encounter this is! I never thought I’d have such good fortune. Allow me to say what a wonderful performance you gave as Belvidera.’
‘Thank you,’ said Hannah, enjoying the praise
‘We thought you were truly magnificent.’
‘It’s kind of you to say so.’
‘In fact, my husband has not stopped talking about you.’
Hannah was rocked. ‘Your husband?’
Having looked at her properly for the first time, she recognised the woman she thought she’d seen with Paul Skillen. During his time with the actress, Paul had always insisted that he was a bachelor. She felt horribly betrayed. Instead of being involved in what she believed was an untrammelled love affair, Hannah had simply been a diversion for a married philanderer. The idea that she’d been a hapless victim of his charm made her erupt with anger.
‘Take me out of here, Felix,’ she snapped.