The Mysterious Maid-Servant (8 page)

“Giselda will require not only a wedding ring,” the Earl said, “but also clothes.”

“Yes, of course,” Colonel Berkeley said in a different tone, “and that is where I can help you. Madame Vivienne, who dresses my theatrical productions is a genius. She will also keep her mouth shut, which is important. Otherwise the whole of Cheltenham will know that Giselda is being fitted out with a trousseau.”

“What about the servants? Especially if she stays here?” Henry asked.

The Colonel looked at him disdainfully.

“You do not suppose that any servants in my employment would dare to gossip about one of my guests or indeed anything that goes on in this house?”

He paused to add impressively,

“The outside world may talk about me, but I assure you that what occurs in any house I own is completely private, except that there are always inquisitive fools who are prepared to believe the worst.”

“There is to be no guessing about Giselda,” the Earl said firmly. “Send for this Madame Vivienne and she must be dressed as befits an heiress. At the same time quietly and respectably as would be expected of a widow from Yorkshire.”

“Have you thought of a name for her?” Henry enquired.

There was a silence as all three men seemed to be thinking.

Then the Colonel spoke first,

“Barrowfield will do. I remember there was a character of that name in one of the first plays I ever acted in, and he, or she, I cannot remember which, was supposed to have come from Yorkshire.”

“Very well,” the Earl agreed, “Giselda can be Mrs. Barrowfield, widow of a Yorkshire Squire who made millions from wool.”

“Her mother can have been a distant cousin of mine,” the Colonel said, “and that will eradicate any complication over names.”

Suddenly, as if the full implication of what was being planned swept over her, Giselda said in a frightened little voice,

“Please – I am afraid – of doing this. Supposing I let you down? Supposing I am – discovered?”

“Then Julius will marry Miss Clutterbuck,” Henry replied before anyone else could speak, “and there will be no great harm done one way or the other. Mrs. Barrowfield can disappear back to Yorkshire.”

He had taken it upon himself to answer Giselda’s plea, but she had been looking at the Earl and he knew she appealed to him for protection and reassurance.

“You will do it splendidly! And really you will have very little to do. Julius will come to call on me, I am quite certain, once Henry has told him that an heiress is staying in the house. You will be introduced and somehow – we must play this by ear – he will suggest that he accompanies you to the Spa and he may after a few casual meetings invite you to dinner.”

He realised as he spoke that the very idea made Giselda afraid and he told himself all that really mattered was that this solved her problem as well as his own.

“I have an idea,” the Colonel said. “Knightley has in his charge a collection of jewellery I use in my productions.”

He looked at Giselda and added, as if he sensed her nervousness at wearing anything valuable,

“The stones are only semi-precious – garnets, amethysts, and I believe there is a small string of pearls. It would seem strange for an heiress to possess no jewellery of any sort.”

“Yes, of course,” the Earl agreed. “Really, Fitz, it will be impossible to put on this production without your help. How soon do you think Madame Vivienne can equip Giselda so that she can take the stage?”

“Immediately, I should think,” the Colonel replied lightly. “And because I realise it is urgent, Talbot, I will go and see her myself and tell her to come here with all possible speed. She is sure to have a few gowns ready, enough at any rate for Giselda to make her first appearance.”

He smiled as he added to Giselda,

“That is the important moment! You have to evoke the interest of the audience and hold it for the rest of the play.”

Giselda made a convulsive little movement and he added,

“No first night nerves! I never allow my players to suffer from them. All I ask is that they should know their lines and do exactly as I have instructed them to do.”

“It is not knowing my lines that makes me so nervous,” Giselda sighed.

“Leave everything to me,” the Colonel answered in an almost caressing tone. “I will produce you, Giselda, and I can assure you I am very experienced at it.”

“I – think I would – rather leave that to – his Lordship,” Giselda said in a low voice.

The Earl could not help feeling a sense of triumph that she preferred to rely on him rather than on the Colonel. But if it was meant to be a put-down the Colonel was not prepared to take it as one.

“Of course,” he agreed. “This is Talbot’s play and I must not spoil his sense of the dramatic. At the same time I hereby appoint myself as Stage Manager and quite frankly, without being conceited, I am an extremely good one.”

“We all know that,” the Earl said, “but you are not to frighten Giselda. I am quite certain she has never done anything like this before and it will not be easy for her.”

“Who knows, we may have another Mrs. Jordan or Harriet Melon on our hands,” Colonel Berkeley remarked.

“Or even a Maria Foote!” Henry Somercote remarked slyly.

The Colonel looked at him and he added,

“I saw her in
A Roland for an Oliver
and I thought she was superb!”

“She is very beautiful,” the Colonel said complacently as if he was responsible for it.

“Giselda will make an adequate Mrs. Barrowfield,” the Earl said, “and that is all we require of her at the moment. Hurry, Fitz, and find Madame Vivienne for me and you, Henry, see if you can discover where Julius is staying.”

“He is staying at
The Plough
, and Miss Clutterbuck is at
The Swan
.”

“Then let us hope we can keep them apart.”

Henry Somercote leant against the foot of the bed.

“What exactly do you want me to stay to him?”

The Earl paused for a moment and then replied slowly,

“Tell him you have been to see me and that I am in good health. Then rave about the charming and delightful widow who is also staying at German Cottage.”

He paused a moment to say,

“Now I think of it, Giselda had better say when she gets the chance that she was accompanied from Yorkshire by an elderly aunt who was unfortunately taken ill and forced to stay in London, but will be joining her later.”

“A good idea!” the Colonel approved. “Always make your characters have a reason for everything they do. It is part of the credibility that should be present in every play.”

“And then?” Henry prompted.

“Suggest, casually of course, that you are calling on me later this evening and that he should accompany you – ” The Earl broke off to turn to the Colonel. “Could Madame Vivienne have Giselda ready by then? Surely she will have at least one gown that will fit her?”

“I imagine there will be dozens,” the Colonel replied. “Each one on Giselda more becoming than the last. Leave everything to me, Talbot! I am going straight away to find Madame Vivienne and I will also speak to Knightley before I leave the house.”

“I will come with you,” Henry said. “I feel sure there are a number of details in this important production that we should discuss together.”

“I will give you a lift,” the Colonel smiled. “I have my phaeton outside.”

“Thank you,” Henry replied. “The trouble about this town of yours, Colonel, is that there is too much walking.”

“All the doctors will tell you that it is good for your health,” the Colonel replied.

“And I am quite certain you are thinking out some way by which you can charge people for every footstep they take,” Henry laughed.

The two men went from the bedroom and the Earl waited, his eyes on Giselda.

He knew she was apprehensive. He knew too by the expression in her eyes that she could hardly believe this was not some fantasy that would never be put into action.

She moved towards the bed and stood holding on to the carved post at the foot as if she needed support.

“Do not be afraid, Giselda,” the Earl cautioned her gently, “I will write you now a cheque for the fifty pounds you need so urgently for playing your part in this deception.”

“It is too much!” she replied. “I am sure it is too much”

“If you think that, you can ask the Colonel what he pays the amateurs who act for him,” the Earl replied. “You will find that he gives them as much as that a week and since I envisage this masquerade may continue for ten days or more I am really getting you on the cheap.”

He saw that she was still unconvinced and added,

“You have obviously not heard the story of Edmund Kean who was paid fifty pounds in Cheltenham for a morning performance, fifty pounds in Tewkesbury in the afternoon and again the same sum at Gloucester in the evening, so that he earned one hundred and fifty pounds in one day.”

“I am not – Edmund Kean.” the Earl smiled.

“Must I say the obvious?”

“You are – only doing this to – save me,” Giselda said hesitatingly.

“That is certainly half the reason why I suggested such a scheme,” the Earl admitted. “The other half, as you are well aware, is because I do not want a usurer’s daughter as a close relative.”

“Supposing Mr. Lynd is not – interested in me?”

“I have never suggested that he should be interested in you as a person,” the Earl replied, “but he will undoubtedly be interested in your supposed money. Captain Somercote was not exaggerating when he said that Julius has been pursuing every heiress during the Season in London and making every possible attempt to marry one of them.”

He wondered if he should tell Giselda of Julius’s attempt to compromise a young girl and how he had escaped down a drainpipe.

Then he told himself that it would only shock her, although she might in fact not understand exactly what was implied.

The only difficulty about this whole scheme, the Earl thought, was whether anyone would credit that Giselda was a married woman.

There was something very young and innocent about her, something the Earl had certainly not found amongst the women he had flirted with and enjoyed himself before he was wounded.

In her plain blue gown she looked at the moment exactly what she was, a young girl bewildered by life and ignorant of all the subtleties and intrigues of the fashionable world.

Then he told himself that the only alternative to what he had suggested was Giselda’s own idea, the thought of which was something he could never contemplate.

In a voice that was authoritative because he knew she would obey it he ordered her,

“Go downstairs, Giselda, and ask Mr. Knightley for notes to the sum of fifty pounds. Tell him I will have a cheque ready when he wishes to collect it. You can take the money first thing tomorrow morning to Mr. Newell and arrange for your brother’s operation on Thursday.”

Giselda drew in her breath and for a moment there was a light in her eyes.

Then she said,

“If I fail you – if Mr. Lynd is not interested in me – I should give it back.”

“If you argue with me,” the Earl asserted, “I shall have a relapse and Newell will not be operating on anyone because he will be attending to me. For God’s sake, girl, stop making difficulties and do what I tell you to do!”

He spoke angrily and Giselda moved a little nearer to him.

“I am – sorry. I am upsetting you and it is the last thing I intended to do. I am grateful – more grateful than I can ever say.”

“Then show your gratitude by doing your best in a part that should come quite naturally to you, that of being a lady, which you are by birth.”

“ – and a servant by profession,” Giselda added with a smile.

“I look upon you as my nurse,” the Earl said, “and however grand you may become in your new clothes, however many balls and assemblies you attend in the person of Mrs. Barrowfield, you will attend to my leg and pander to my every wish whenever you are off duty.”

“You know I want to do that,” Giselda said softly, “and please – may I thank you again?”

There was something very gentle in her voice and an expression in her eyes the Earl had not seen before.

Then, because he knew it was the best way to deal with her, he said sharply,

“I have no intention of being neglected.”

“You will not be,” Giselda promised, “but I am sure now that you should rest.”

“I will rest as long as I am not kept in ignorance of what is going on,” the Earl thundered. “When Madame Vivienne arrives I wish to see her and tell her what I require. I will choose your gowns myself, one by one.”

“Yes, of course,” Giselda agreed.

Then a sudden thought struck her.

“Will – will you be – paying for them?”

“I shall be paying for them!” the Earl said positively. “And I don’t want any argument about it, Giselda. No one can put on a stage show without it costing money and I assure you that anything expended on your behalf will be very much less than what Julius has cost me this last year, let alone the sums I have coughed up in previous years.”

“How can he possibly spend so much money? What does he buy with it?” Giselda enquired.

“If I could answer ‘horses’, which would be true of the Colonel who spends a fortune on his, there would be some excuse,” the Earl replied. “But Julius’s money goes on drink and women and, of course, gambling.”

“How foolish!”

“As you say, very foolish and very expensive!”

“I could never admire a man who is a gambler,” Giselda said reflectively. “There is something so nonsensical in wagering money, especially if you cannot afford it, on the turn of a card.”

“And what about the other vices?” the Earl asked, “women for instance?”

To his surprise the colour rose in Giselda’s face and her eyes that had been looking frankly into his, dropped.

“In some – cases,” she said in a hard little voice that the Earl had never heard before, “such behaviour is – indefensible.”

She rose as she spoke and walked towards the door.

“I will tell the butler that when Madame Vivienne comes you wish to see her,” she said and left the room.

The Earl stared after her in surprise.