Exit the Actress (42 page)

“Beautiful,” I said.

In the candle-maker’s shop:

“Why slighted?” I could not care less about these spoilt foreign ambassadors and was only hungry for news of
him
but, even with Peg, was determined not to ask.

“Oh, such silliness. The Venetian did not greet the Spaniard at the door, and now they will not speak,” said Peg impatiently, handing her man a fat bundle of long white wax tapers—an unimaginable expense.

“And the French?”

“He’s
French,
” she said, throwing up her hands as if this explained everything. “Heaven knows why he has taken umbrage. It is all a mess and has landed in the queen’s lap, as the king is unwilling to deal with these brawling diplomats.”

In the milliner’s shop:

“The queen will find a way to soothe everyone,” I said, thinking of her tranquil air.

“She’s working on soothing Monmouth. The king promoted him to Lord Gerard’s post as the head of the Royal Life Guards last week—after years of Jemmy’s pestering. Jemmy is sweet but frightfully stubborn. Now he is strutting about in rich clothes, expecting to be named heir to the throne any day, but the king told him absolutely not. He didn’t take it well and is being difficult about it. In any case, Monmouth makes the queen uncomfortable, as he openly assumes she will never…” She glanced quickly at the milliner Madame Sophie.

I shook my head slightly. “No.” Best to be discreet; Madame Sophie is a notorious gossip.

“I had no idea Gerard was retiring,” I said, changing the subject and picking up a wide-brimmed pink hat—all wrong for my hair.

“He wasn’t going to retire. The king bought the post for Monmouth for
fifteen thousand
pounds, plus the cost of the swearing-in ceremony. Gets expensive, especially for this king and his currently … restricted budget. Ooh, what about this one?” Peg reached for a small green hat with ostrich feathers. She turned this way and that in the glass. It did not suit.

“So the
queen
is having to manage Monmouth’s growing expectations? That won’t be easy,” I said, putting my own hat back on.

“Perhaps the cream voile, Madame Hughes?” offered Madame Sophie, holding out a light, puffed creation.

“Frankly, I do not think she is up to it,” Peg said, trying the hat. “Confrontation of any kind is quite beyond her, and he is quite volatile.” She turned, examining herself in the glass. “Oh yes!” she exclaimed, turning to me. I nodded my approval; it set off her high pale forehead beautifully. “I’ll take two,” she said.

In the apothecary’s shop:

“Well, are you going to ask me?” questioned Peg, sniffing a pot of rose-scented face cream.

“I was trying not to,” I confessed, fidgeting with a vial of verbena scent. “Is it so very obvious?”

“He does care for you truly, Ellen. He knows you are distressed. He sent me—”

“He
sent
you?” I shrilled, louder than I had intended.

“Yes, I was supposed to make it look natural, but I could not lie to you. He sent me to find out if you would care to … that is, if you want to continue—”

“Continue,” I said, roughly picking up the glass pots and banging them down again on the marble counter. The apothecary looked at me warily. “Continue what? What is it that he wants of me?”

“To be your friend … and more, if you will permit,” Peg said simply.

“Is that you talking or
him
?” My voice sounded roughened and coarse.

“It is me, but the question came from him to Rupert to me.”

“Have you nothing to say in your own words?” I asked meanly, and then instantly regretted it. Peg has always been my friend and does not deserve such treatment.

“He wants you back, Ellen … if in fact you have deserted him.”

“All in secret though. Not like Castlemaine, constantly pregnant, like a ship in full sail. And not like dull, doughy Moll, also pregnant and quite obviously his mistress, although also quite obviously second tier.” I sat down on the bench with a hard, indelicate thump.

“No, not like them, like
you,
” Peg said gently, taking a seat beside me.

“And what is that, like me?” I asked warily, thinking of Rose.

“Ah, that is for you to determine.” Peg distractedly pulled at the lace of her cuff. I regretted my harsh words. Peg was clearly in the process of determining her own way as well. “He likes you, much more than he lets on,” she continued. “Rupert says he is quite smitten.”

“When does he find the time,” I asked bitterly. “Between Castlemaine and Moll and Frances Stuart and the queen and his horses and presumably ruling the country—”

“You know you care for him deeply. I can see that you miss him,” Peg said quietly.

“But how will it end?” I whispered, my true fear.

“For girls like us, how can we ever know that?” responded Peg.

Slowly, we wandered back to the theatre.

I have sent a note. I will see him and talk—no more than that. I have forbidden him to come to the theatre; that is
my
stronghold, my strength.

I have broken down and confessed all to my theatre family. Tom and Lacy called an immediate family conference. Bless them. Bless their unconditional love.

“Stand your ground,” Tom said with uncharacteristic belligerence. “You have made your position known, and now you must stick to it. You will not be kept a secret any longer. You must have status. You must have station…”

Teddy and Lacy nodded their vigorous assent.

“Yes, my love. If he sees that you can be so easily outmanoeuvred, he will not hold you in high esteem,” Lacy said helpfully. “It is your
wit
that sets you apart from these other court trollops. Do not compromise.”

“No. It is her
heart
that sets her apart,” said Rochester. He had entered the tiring room unnoticed and was insouciantly lounging against the door-frame. “It is your heart that he is drawn to. Do not bargain and brawl like the others. Love him, and you will receive all that you truly need.”

“To do that, I must trust him,” I challenged.

“Exactly.”

I returned to the theatre after supper to collect my Florimel costume—it has a tear in the sleeve that Rose has promised to mend for me—when Hart came into my tiring room. I looked up, startled. He usually takes care to avoid me in the theatre. Ruby hurled herself into his arms.

“You are worthy of him, Ellen,” he said quietly, without preamble, stroking Ruby’s folded ears. “You must decide if he is worthy of you.”

“Him?” I hedged, trying to gauge if he knew.

“Him.” He said with finality and, setting Ruby down, walked heavily from the room.

Yes. He knew.