Songbird (37 page)

A
lonely heart had replaced my broken heart.  I desperately wanted to see Brett
again and long before Brighton.  I wondered if he would write.  The Post Office
had been amazing and delivered my letters no matter where I happened to be. 
Sometimes the address simply said
Miss Emmeline Barri, The lady of the
Flowers
, but the envelopes still turned up at the hotel or theatre. 
Amongst my pile of letters, containing not only praise for my performance, but
also quite a few marriage proposals, there was never one from Brett.  And I
didn’t dare write to him.  I was so afraid that his marriage, so precariously
balanced on a knife-edge, would deteriorate even further if I pressed my
attentions too far.  Had he been unmarried I would have written and asked to
meet him; nothing would have stopped me.  The overwhelming yearning to see
Brett continued; the emptiness inside me growing each day.

We
journeyed through Devon and Cornwall and by the time we reached Truro I had had
enough of Andrew’s ill-temper.

“Aren’t
you happy with the tour?” I asked him when I had finished the first of two
performances.

“It’s
going very well,” he said dryly.

“Then
why the long face?  You’ve not been yourself since Bath.”

He
looked uncomfortable.  “Bath?”

We
were in the dressing room and Martha was busy tidying up as usual.  I decided
to take matters into my own hands.

“Martha,
could you give us a moment, please,” I said.  She looked at me and then at
Andrew, pulled a face and left the room, grumbling.  I held out my hand.  “Come
and sit down,” I said softly.

He
hesitated for a few seconds.  “What is it?” he muttered.  He threw himself down
in the armchair, staring at me with eyes that seemed devoid of emotion.

I
leaned towards him.  “You must tell me what’s wrong.  I’ve always hoped that we
are friends.”

“We
are friends and there’s nothing wrong.”

I
became impatient.  “Andrew, there is something troubling you.  Your temperament
since May has been awful and it all started when you received that letter in
Bath.  Now, I assumed it was from a lady friend and if it was and it contained
bad news, then I’m truly sorry.”

“You
are?”

“Yes,
I am.  But your snappish mood is not pleasant at all and it can’t go on. 
You’re making everyone miserable.”

He
paused before saying,  “So, you think I’ve been spurned by a lover?”

“I
assumed that.”

He
glanced across to the window where the street light filtered through the thin
curtain.  “Perhaps I should tell you everything.”

I
gave a sigh of relief.  “If it would make things better.”

He
stood and walked over to the lamp standing on the table, staring at it as
though it gave him solace.  It lit up his face and I saw he was biting his
lip.  He looked up.  “Call Martha and we’ll go back to the hotel.  We can talk
before we retire.”  He gave a half-smile.  “Unless you want to wait until
tomorrow?”

I
shook my head.  “I’d rather hear what you have to say tonight.”

The
journey to the hotel only took five minutes and once inside, Martha wished us
goodnight.

“Where
would you like us to talk?” said Andrew, as Martha disappeared up the stairs.

I
shrugged indifferently.  “Anywhere.”

He
looked towards the lounge.  “There doesn’t seem to be anyone in there.”

“The
lounge will do,” I said and walked towards it.

It
was quite a comfortable room with red flock wallpaper and palms dotted about. 
There was an abundance of chairs and couches and I chose a seat and unpinned my
hat, placing it on the occasional table at the side.  Andrew came to sit beside
me.

“Where
to begin,” he murmured.

“The
beginning is always the best place,” I laughed.

He
didn’t share my amusement.  “Do you remember what quid pro quo means?”

I
looked at him aghast.  “Yes I do.  Something for something.  What are you
suggesting?”

“Before
I tell you anything, I want you to tell me something first.”

 I
stared at him.“What do you want to know?” 

“It’s
personal.”

I
sank back against the cushions in despair.  “Is it about your marriage
proposal?”

He
licked his lips nervously and shook his head,  “No, it’s not that.  I want to
know if Lady Emily Shelbrook is your daughter.”

His
words came as a terrible shock that made me catch my breath.  “What makes you
think that?” I whispered.

“I
know you’re in love with her father and I’m convinced you had an affair with
him.  And that little girl was a result of the affair.  And no doubt he put up
the money for your academy fees.”  He laughed bitterly.  “I think his wife must
be a good sport to take on his illegitimate child.”

I
jumped to my feet.  “You can think what you like.  It doesn’t concern you.”

“Oh,
yes it does,” he also rose from his seat, “especially when your reputation and
mine are at stake.  Do you realise what would happen if the newspapers got wind
of this.  They’d have a field day pulling us to bits.”

“Who
would tell the papers?”

“People
who know the truth.”

“What
people?”

He
scowled at me.  “Anyone who finds out, damn you.”

“But
very few people know…” I blinked in horror realising that my unguarded words
had told him everything. 

We
stared at each other and then my knees went weak.  I collapsed back onto the
couch and leaned forward, holding my throbbing head.  I closed my eyes and took
in steady breaths.  I felt the cushion dip as he sat next to me. 

“So,
we’ve got to decide what to do next,” he said.

I
finally found the words to answer him and raised my head to look into eyes that
were filled with disappointment.  “We don’t do anything except carry on with
the tour.”  I sighed despondently.  “All right, I admit it, I had Lord
Shelbrook’s child and that child is Lady Emily.  The affair…” I gasped at the
falseness of the description,  “…happened nine years ago and long before I went
to Covent Garden.  It didn’t stop me being successful then, so why should it
ruin this tour.”

He
gave a crooked smile.  “I like your bravado.”

“It’s
not bravado, it’s being pragmatic.”  I felt emotionally drained.  “I’m so weary
and must go to bed.  Now you know the truth about me, I hope you’re happier.”

“Is
that why you wouldn’t marry me, because you’re in love with Lord Shelbrook?”

I
considered this carefully.  “I hadn’t seen Brett for many years when we met
again that Christmas but I realised that I had never stopped loving him.”  I
searched Andrew’s expression hoping he would understand.  “I turned you down
for the reason I gave at the time.  I can’t marry you because I don’t love you.” 
I stood and scooped up my hat.  “Goodnight and I’ll see you in the morning.”

 He came to his
feet slowly and as I turned to go, I caught the wary look in his eyes and his
lips parted as if to speak.  But then thinking better of it, he closed his
mouth, pressing his lips together.

It
was only when I was in bed that I realised that the entire discussion had been
about me.  We had never mentioned his heartbreak, his letter and his lady
friend.

CHAPTER
THIRTY-SIX

I
lost
heart with the tour after that.  The joy of singing abandoned me and I was glad
to leave Truro and head for St Austell where I was playing for one night only
and then on to Plymouth for a four-night run.  Only letters from Nan and
Diamond kept me going. 

I
pondered on my plans after the tour.  I would return to Gibson Place, of
course, but I felt I couldn’t continue working with Andrew.  In the days after
our talk, his attitude changed in that he seemed kinder even tender towards me,
although the anxiety returned occasionally.  At least my confession had gone
some way in settling his mind.  He had mentioned that my phenomenal success
with this tour almost guaranteed a tour of the northern counties the following
year.  I wasn’t so sure.

I
knew that my bank balance was healthy and with the dividends from the
Anaconda
Mining Company
pouring into my account, I was a wealthy woman.  I wondered
if I should take my singing abroad, or retire, or set up my own music academy. 
Whatever I decided, one thing was certain, if I did continue touring then I
must find another manager.

We
arrived in Plymouth at the beginning of August with a few days in hand before
my first night.  Miss Rupp spent two days teaching Danny about this busy naval
port before they again said goodbye as they set off on their second trip to
Claythorpe House.  Danny was full of excitement and when the month was done,
they would travel back to London so that he could start school.  With his
departure my melancholy deepened and the morning he left, I finally wrote to
Brett.

At
first, I told him about Danny and Miss Rupp’s journey to Hampshire and how I
wished I was with them.  I said that the tour was continuing to be successful
but I was very tired of travelling and was looking forward to its end.  I
didn’t tell him that I loved and missed him although I yearned to.  I thought I
was only chatting and completely missed the fact that my unhappiness was very
apparent in every sentence, in every word I wrote.

On
the first night in Plymouth, I sang some of my favourite songs from Gilbert and
Sullivan’s
HMS Pinafore
along with a few opera arias.  I closed with the
naval hymn
For Those in Peril on the Sea
, before the habitual flower
throwing into the audience.  On the second and third night, I repeated the
programme, since the first had been so well received, but on the third night I
left the stage with a heavy heart.  I reached the wings and nearly dropped the
flower basket in surprise.

I had
expected Andrew to be waiting with Martha, but instead Brett stood by her side,
laughing heartily at my incredulous expression.

I
threw the basket to her and held out my arms to him.  “You’re here!  What are
you doing in Plymouth?”

He
took my hands and kissed my fingers.  “I read your letter, thought you sounded
sad and immediately packed my bag and caught the train.”

I was
conscious of Martha’s curiosity and gently removed my hands.  “Well, it’s
lovely that you should.”  I glanced at Martha.  “Where’s Andrew?”

“He
had to go out.”

“During
a performance?”

“He
said it was urgent.”

Brett
took my hand once more.  “Then perhaps you and I could take supper at your
hotel?”  I nodded with enthusiasm, even though I generally didn’t have supper
after a performance but went straight to my room.  “I’ve booked into the same
one as you, for the next two nights.”  He bent his head closer.  “I thought we
could spend tomorrow together.”

I
burst into spontaneous laughter that lifted my spirits.  I couldn’t believe he
was there.  I hadn’t seen him for two months and I had missed him every single
day.  And just when I couldn’t bear to be without him a moment longer, he had
travelled over a hundred miles to be with me.

We
walked to the dressing room where I undressed behind a bamboo screen while
Brett sat in the armchair.  We talked avidly all the time.  Emily was not with
him since his wife had taken her to Claythorpe for a summer visit.

“Well,
she’ll have a lovely time with Danny and Abigail,” I called to him.  “I really
envy them.  I wish I could visit.”

“Yes,
it’s a lovely place,” he called back.  “And they’ll probably spend all their
time riding and swimming.”

 “Well,
I hope they take care,” I said, coming from behind the screen.

He
clicked his tongue.  “Now then, don’t start worrying about him.”  He let out a
gasp.  “My, you look wonderful.  I’ll be a very proud man tonight.”

I had
decided to wear one of my stage creations, since it was all I had available for
a supper engagement.  I didn’t want to put on a simple skirt and jacket for
such a special occasion.  I had stopped wearing a bustle the year before since
they were now going out of fashion and the skirt of my gown was more
bell-shaped with a small waist, this particular one made of white satin with
short puffed sleeves and a low neckline.  In my hair, a comb of white osprey
feathers curled elegantly round my head. 

“Do
you like it?” I said, giving him a twirl. 

“Breathtaking,”
he smiled and rose from his seat.

I
went to him and our hands linked again.  “I’m so pleased you’re here,” I
whispered.  Martha coughed.  “Let’s go.  Come on, Martha.”

We
travelled by cab and as soon as we arrived, Martha wished us a hasty goodnight
and went straight upstairs to bed.  Brett and I went into the dining room and a
waiter showed us to a table. 

“This
is the second supper we’ve enjoyed together,” I said, taking the menu offered.

“And
I hope we have many more,” he smiled.

“How
is Emily…and Angelique?”

“They’re
both well.  Angelique caught a bit of chill while we were in Bath, but she was
fully recovered by the time we left.”

“Did
the waters do her any good?”

“The
jury’s still out on that,” he grinned.

The
waiter came to take our order.

“This
is a lovely hotel,” I said, looking around the lemon and cream room with
yellow, flowered curtains and a beautiful chandelier fixed in the centre of the
ceiling.  “This is my fifth night here and I don’t think we’ve stayed in a
hotel for this long before.”

“You
must be getting weary.”

I
gave a jaded laugh.  “Sometimes I’m so exhausted, I’m too tired to breathe. 
It’s been a long five months.”

“You
wouldn’t think it.  Your performance tonight was as fresh as if it was your
first time.”

“That’s
because I forget myself once I’m out there in front of the audience.  It’s only
afterwards that the fatigue sets in.”

“Well,
I enjoyed watching you.”

I
leaned my elbow on the table and cupped my chin in my hand.  “You watched the
whole thing from the wings?”

He
nodded.  “I arrived at your dressing room intending to wait, but your maid said
to come along with her and watch you from the side.  I’ve never seen a stage
from that angle before.”

The
waiter brought our order and we settled down to eat.

“Jane’s
gone,” I said, picking up my knife and fork.

Brett
stared at me.  He seemed to be thinking this over, as he shook out his napkin
and placed it across his knee.

“Gone? 
Do you mean she’s given notice?”

“No,”
I said, shaking my head.  “She just packed her bags one morning and left.  Nan
and Diamond were very surprised.  They thought she was happy working for them.”

He
frowned.  “I don’t understand that.  I would have considered that kind of
behaviour completely out of character.”

“Nan
thinks she found a young man and went off with him.”

Brett
shrugged and then smiled.  “Well, that’s the servant class for you.  Utterly
unreliable and disloyal.”

“Not
all of them,” I rebuked him and then changed the subject.  “How is it you’re not
at Claythorpe with your wife and daughter?”

“I
told them I’d follow after I’d visited you.”  The horror on my face amused him
and he chuckled over his wineglass.  “I’m teasing you.  I told Angelique I had
some business to attend to and I’d travel to Hampshire as soon as possible.”

“So
she doesn’t know you’re here with me…on business?”

He
chuckled again and rubbed his finger along my jaw line.  “No, my darling.  She
doesn’t.”

His
smile gave me courage.  “Brett, I’ve something to tell you.”  He didn’t answer
and refilled my glass, his eyes telling me that he was listening.  “Andrew
knows about us…and about Emily.”

A
look of surprise and then disquiet passed across his face.  “How does he know?”
he said, taking a gulp of wine.

“Actually,
I don’t know.  He could see how I was with you, both in Bath and Bristol.  He
also saw how fond I was of Emily.  I suppose he worked it out for himself. 
He’s assumed we had an affair and Emily was the result.”

He
breathed a sigh of relief.  “Well, he’s very astute.  But I think he can be
trusted to take it no further.  I believe he cares too much for you to spread
any gossip.”

“He
keeps proposing,” I said, tongue in cheek.  Perhaps I shouldn’t have told him
that but I wanted to know how he would react.

“Does
he now!  And you keep turning him down?”  I nodded.  “I’m very pleased about
that.”

“I
thought you would be,” I said coyly.

“I’m
not very keen on sharing you with another man.”

“I
share you with your wife.”

“No
you don’t.  My wife and I sleep separately.  I can’t imagine that would be the
case if you married your manager.”

“Yes,
he’d definitely want to share my bed.  He’s quite a passionate man is Andrew.” 
I strained to keep my face straight.

“Now
you’re trying to make me jealous,” he said, smiling. 

I
fluttered my eyelashes at him and then realised that being in his company was
making me giddy with happiness.  I must pull myself together.  I was a grown
woman not a silly schoolgirl.

“Yes,
I’m sorry.  Sometimes my mischievous nature gets the better of me.”

He
caught his breath.  “Come to my room.  Stay the night with me,” he whispered. 
I looked round, but the few diners there were not interested in us.  I looked
back at the man sitting opposite me, his blue-green eyes shimmering with
desire.  A man that I loved with all my heart and had yearned for.  I nodded. 
He stood up abruptly and put his hand under my elbow, helping me rise from my
chair.  “We’d better go before I throw you on the floor and ravish you here and
now.”

Despite
his impatience, we walked slowly from the dining room, not wanting to attract
any attention.  We crossed the foyer to the stairs and when we were hidden from
view of the desk clerk, he slipped his arm round me.  I raised my face for a
kiss and he responded passionately. 

We
reached the top of the stairs and came face to face with Andrew.  His
expression was dark, ominous as he glared at us. 

“I
thought you’d gone out,” I said, trying not to look him in the eye.  I was
conscious that my face must be flushed.

“I’d
like to speak with you, if you don’t mind?”

I
groaned in despair.  “It’s so late.  Couldn’t it wait until tomorrow?”

Brett
cleared his throat and then raising my hand to his lips, kissed my fingers. 
“Thank you for a wonderful evening, Isabelle.  I will see you in the morning.” 
He left me standing in the corridor.

Andrew
watched him walk away, the muscles in his jaw twitching and then turned to me. 
“I saw you in the dining room together.”

I
felt appalled.  “You were spying on me?”  He didn’t answer.  “You didn’t want
to speak with me, did you?”

“No,
I wanted to prevent you keeping company with that man.”

“Why,
Andrew?”

He
shook his head.  “He’s a married man and you’re my responsibility.  I don’t
want you to see him again while you’re on tour.”

Anger
surged up from my stomach and I found words wouldn’t come.  I turned swiftly
and went to my room, banging the door behind me.

I woke up still
feeling angry.  Andrew had gone too far, prying into my personal life.  He was
my manager and nothing more and as I dressed I decided to confront him.  But
first I would breakfast with Brett.  That I was adamant about.  As I searched
for my shawl I noticed an envelope pushed under my door.  I read it and then
let out a cry of dismay.

My Darling,

Please
forgive me for leaving you, but I believe it will not be in your best interest
if I should stay.  Your manager has obviously taken a dislike to me and
therefore I’m travelling to Hampshire to be with our daughter.  Finish your
tour, my sweet Isabelle and when you are done we will meet in Brighton.  And then
come to my home at Standford Park and spend time with Emily and me.