Leading Lady (49 page)

“That’s no excuse for what she did.”

“No, of course not. But it helps me understand that showing her the rough side of my tongue would be giving Muriel just what she wants. I’m the
last
person to want to give her what she wants right now.”

“The second-to-last person, you mean.” Grady corrected.

“Yes.” Jewel picked up the telephone. “I’ll see about Bethia now.”

****

Sarah answered and said, after an exchange of subdued greetings, “She’s out in the garden with Father and Naomi.”

“How is she?”

“Mmm . . . not so well. But I’m glad she’s staying home and doesn’t have to face . . . anybody.”

Even over the telephone, Jewel could discern the restraint it had taken for Sarah not to say Muriel’s name. Father’s side of the family was always mindful of hers and Catherine’s positions in the middle.

“She should take as long as she needs,” Jewel assured her. “We’ll manage.”

“I’m sure she’ll return to work when the new production starts,” Sarah said. “She’s trying to prove to Father and Naomi that this hasn’t destroyed her. And who knows? Perhaps getting back into her old routine will help her. Even with . . .”

Again, she left off the name.

Thirty-Six

“We could marry next week,” Guy said after a second farewell kiss in the morning room. “Please, Muriel.”

She brushed a bit of lint from his sleeve, smiled. “I’m not ready.”

His brows drew together in an agonized expression. “Is it because you fear I’m after your money? If so, we’ll go to a solicitor, have him draw up some sort of legal document giving me no rights to it. And I’ll be wealthy in my own right one day. I promise.”

“It has nothing to do with money.”

“Then, what is it?”

“I’m still in mourning,” she said a little reprovingly. “I
did
find out I lost a brother just three months ago.”

“I’m sorry. Of course.” His sapphire eyes shone. “It’s just that I love you so much. When we’re apart, you’re all I think about.”

“I love you too.”

Gladys’s hopeless lessons had ceased a week ago, at great relief to the scullery maid, but Guy still came over those three days, and at other times when both schedules allowed. They had been back to the Savoy twice since that first time.

She stepped back so that he would loosen his arms and touched the tip of his nose. “But it’s off with you now. I have to leave soon. Grady wants me to sign a new contract.”

At her dressing table, she allowed Evelyn to twist tendrils of her hair into clever little curls about the crown of her head. Would Bethia choose today to return? Muriel had a strong feeling she would not resign. After all, she did not resign when asked to keep her distance after Douglas’s memorial. That was fine. What good was revenge if she could not witness its effect firsthand?

Her only regret was that Jewel would be furious. But
probably not for too long. Her cousin’s loyalty to Royal Court Theatre was the one ace Muriel held. After all, Mr. Whitmore’s leaving meant that the success of future productions rested in
her
hands. The insufferable Lord-of-the-Sheep may be getting some attention in the newspapers, but
she
had proven herself onstage. Once the novelty of him wore off, everyone would see that it was
her
devoted followers who kept the theatre filled.

And Bethia could have her beau back fairly soon. Already Muriel was growing a little weary of his company. If she cared about having someone follow her about with lovelorn eyes she would have encouraged Mr. Whitmore. Or bought an Irish Setter.

****

“We had the playbills delivered to the rehearsal room,” Jewel said to Mr. Birch in the office. “Please get Lewis to help you count them into stacks. We’ve appointments all day for contract signings.”

“I’ll see to it right away,” Mr. Birch said, but he continued to stand just inside the door.

At length Grady said, “Is there something else, Mr. Birch?”

“We’re wondering—upstairs—how Miss Rayborn is faring?”

“She plans to return after the break,” Jewel replied.

“Well, that’s good. The best remedy for a broken heart is to keep busy.”

The elderly man turned toward the door, but Jewel was on her feet and at his side before he could touch the knob.

“Wait.” She took hold of his coat sleeve. “What do you mean?”

Not
how did you find that out,
her initial thought, just in case he was merely guessing and was seeking confirmation from her.

He gave her an indulgent, yet sad, smile. “How long have you been employed here, Mrs. McGuire? The walls talk. And
it seems her fiancé has been seen about town with a certain actress.”

“Oh dear,” Jewel said. She had known, of course, that word would spread, but she had hoped that
The Bells
would be well under way first. The cast and crew were far fonder of Bethia than Muriel, and there were sure to be repercussions.

Repercussions that Muriel deserved, but such backstage dramas had a way of affecting performances in actors less disciplined than Mr. Whitmore and Mrs. Steel.

The elderly man leaned his head thoughtfully. “We believe—upstairs—that the future will eventually be brighter for our dear Miss Rayborn. It is obvious to us that Mr. Carey has a fondness for her. He’s a decent fellow, very thoughtful. And he has no liking for a certain actress, so there would be no danger there.”

“Everyone is fond of Miss Rayborn, Mr. Birch,” Grady said. “Not just Mr. Carey.”

“Yes, that’s so.” Mr. Birch nodded. “But there is fond, and there is
fond.
”

Jewel waved the elderly man out of the office. Gruffly, but gently, she said, “You three have too much time on your hands up there.”

****

“Does this mean the lead for the run of the play?” Mr. Carey asked after signing his name to two contracts—one for himself, one for Grady’s file. “Not temporarily?”

“That’s what it means, Mr. Carey.” Grady affixed his own signature to the contracts. “You read it yourself.”

“I didn’t quite trust my eyes,” the actor admitted.

“How do you feel, Mr. Carey?” Jewel asked.

He returned her smile. “As if this is a dream, Mrs. McGuire.”

“Well, being that I’m in your dream, kindly arrange it so I don’t have to wear these,” she said, touching the wire rim of her eyeglasses.

“And make me taller,” Grady said.

All three chuckled at this, and then Mr. Carey sobered again.

“Miss Lidstone said Miss Rayborn’s not feeling well. Is it serious?”

“She actually plans to return after the break,” Jewel said evasively, though she wondered why she bothered. If the news of the breakup was already out, it was just a matter of time before it reached Mr. Carey’s ears.

“I’m glad.”

Mr. Birch is right,
Jewel thought, catching the relief in the actor’s expression.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Grady said after Mr. Carey left the office.

She raised eyebrows. “And just how do you know that, pray tell?”

“Because I was thinking the same thing. But we’ve got to stay out of it, love.”

Jewel nodded. The last thing Bethia would be interested in was another romance. Instinctively she knew this to be so, even though she had had no experience with affairs of the heart until Grady entered her life. But, given that her cousin hopefully would recover from this over time, what could it hurt to have a friendship already established with a decent man such as Mr. Carey?

****

If he truly loved Bethia, he would not have fallen in love with me.

They weren’t officially engaged.

I had the best of intentions when I hired him for my party. I didn’t expect this to happen.

I’ve been so lonesome since Sidney died. Would you begrudge me a little happiness?

Remember, I’m your cousin too.

In the coach, Muriel mulled over which arguments would be most effective in the shouting match that was certain to
happen. She stepped up to one of the theatre doors just as it opened from the inside. Mr. Carey’s tall frame was garbed in a heavy tan cotton jacket, with large pockets and pinstriped black linen trousers.

“Good afternoon, Lady Holt,” he said, stepping back to hold the door with one hand, removing bowler hat with the other.

“Thank you.”

Odd that he did not use his title. She would rather give up her diamond rings than her title. And even odder was the gossip that he lived in poverty when he had the means to live lavishly. Halfway through the doorway she noticed the top third of a book sticking up in his pocket.

“The Time Machine?”
She paused, looked up at him “You read science fiction, Mr. Carey?”

“Sometimes,” he replied with a glance down at the book. “My mother sent me
War of the Worlds,
and I enjoyed it, so I bought this one on my way in.”

“I wish I would have known. I could have lent it to you.”

He looked surprised, and indeed, Muriel could hardly believe the words had come from her own mouth.

“Why, that’s very kind of you, even so,” he said and smiled.

“I’ve lots more books,” she said, surprising herself again. But after all, if they were to be working closely together, it was probably best that they at least be able to hold a pleasant conversation. As long as he did not carry it to extremes.

Like Douglas.

The thought shook her. She pushed it from her mind, substituting the more accurate
Like Mr. Whitmore.

They wished each other good-day, and as she drew closer to the office, she was glad for the civil exchange for another reason. Bethia was well liked. Once word got around that she had taken Guy from her, Jewel and Grady would not be the only people furious. She could weather that storm as well as she had weathered any others in the past, but it would surely be easier with a friend or two on her side.

Nice eyes,
she thought, recalling how his smile had caused them to crinkle at the corners.
I wonder why I never noticed before?

****

While Jewel worked at her desk, Grady thanked Muriel for coming and presented two identical contracts—one for her, one for the files. He explained that new contracts were necessary because of the delayed opening of
The Bells.
Muriel signed both without reading, for legal language was not her forte. But she was confident that Grady and Jewel would not abuse her trust.

Even now, when they were obviously angry with her.

“Thank you,” Grady said, signing and then handing over her copy. His smile seemed pasted on, and his gray eyes could have been peering at a wedge of cheese for all the animation therein.

“You’re welcome,” Muriel said. She looked over at Jewel, penciling in a notebook. “I spotted one of the new posters outside. It’s very nice.”

Her cousin raised her head and smiled. Politely. “Yes, we’re pleased.”

Neither Jewel nor Grady rose to escort her from the office. Muriel stood in the corridor, looking back at the closed door. There was more to this than a mere unwillingness to ruffle the feathers of their biggest star. The coolness in Jewel’s eyes suggested that they were simply co-workers forced to associate, not family.

She’ll get over it,
Muriel assured herself on her way back to the coach. But her steps were heavy. If Jewel would have shouted and railed, she could have defended herself, justified her actions. How did one defend oneself against politeness?

“Oh, there you are, your Ladyship,” Mrs. Burles said when Muriel walked into the house. “Mrs. Pearce is on the telephone.”

The last thing Muriel wished to do was chat over the
telephone. But with Georgiana still up in Sheffield, she had to make certain nothing was wrong.

“It’s that nanny . . . Prescott.” The voice coming through the line was as brittle as ever. “She’s too strict!”

Muriel drew in a deep breath, eased it out. “Mother, I’ll be there in four days. We’ll talk about it then. I have to go.”

****

“You don’t really need me for these contracts, do you?” Jewel asked.

Grady smiled at her. “Do give Bethia my love.”

Forty minutes later she was having tea in the Hampstead parlour with Uncle Daniel and Aunt Naomi. Sarah had gone to the shipping office, Aunt Naomi said, and Bethia was riding her bicycle out on the Heath.

“I’m surprised,” Jewel said.

“She said she needed the fresh air,” Uncle Daniel said from his chair. “I suspect it’s for our benefit, to distract us from worrying over her.”

“As if
that
would be all it took.” Aunt Naomi shook her head. “I wish Bethia didn’t feel she has to shield us. Sometimes its as if she’s the parent and we’re the children.”

Uncle Daniel gave Jewel a sad smile. “I suppose that’s what happens when your parents have been old for most of your life.”

“You’ve never seemed old to me,” Jewel said. “You have to remember, Bethia’s nature has always been nurturing. That’s one reason she excels at her job.” She set her empty cup and saucer upon the tea table and rose. “I need to get back to help prepare for tonight’s show.”

Even though she asked the two to keep their seats, both rose for embraces. Uncle Daniel apologized for the coach being away and attempted to give her money for a cab as if she were still twelve years old. Rather than feel insulted, Jewel liked the feel of being parented.

“The underground is quicker,” she said, kissing his bearded cheek and leaving before he could drop coins into her palm
for that as well. She met Bethia pushing the bicycle up the carriage drive. A moment later, the bicycle was lying on the soft ground and they were in each other’s arms. Over her cousin’s shoulder, Jewel spotted the gardener taking a couple of steps toward them, hesitating, then retreating to the back garden.

“I still feel as if I’m walking about in a dream,” Bethia said, stepping back at length to wipe her eyes with her fingertips.

Jewel recalled Mr. Carey saying the same thing earlier, but under happier circumstances. “I’m so sorry, Bethia.”