Wicked and Wonderful (19 page)

“Yes, of course.”

Whatever her fears about the awkwardness of the social situation, the rehearsal pleased Judith enormously. Margaret had a great deal of ability, there could be no two opinions on that score, but Miss Currivard had something of brilliance, even perfection, in her playing.

After a very short time, Judith felt as though she had been performing with Miss Currivard forever.

When some time had passed and Miss Currivard was stretching her arms overhead, Judith glanced at the clock and said out, “Good heavens! We have been here for two hours. I would not have believed it possible. I feel as though only a few minutes have passed. Indeed, I must confess I have never enjoyed myself more.”

“Nor I,” her patronness said, rising from the stool. “Do you know how many times little shivers traveled all over my neck and arms in listening to you sing? You have an extraordinary voice.”

Judith was embarrassed by such a profound compliment but thanked her nonetheless.

Mr. Doulting appeared at the door of the conservatory. “We have just been informed that nuncheon is served. The rest of the party has gone from the front of the house, but Aubrey and I have come to collect you.”

Judith barely had time to compose her nerves before Kelthorne arrived from the hallway on the opposite side of the conservatory. How was it she had forgotten just how tall he was, how noble his features, and how bright and warm an expression was perpetually in his eye?

“Well met, Miss Lovington,” he said, bowing slightly to her. “I trust you are recovered from your ordeal at Cheddar Gorge.”

“Yes, very much so, thank you.” Though his concern was genuine, his words took her instantly back to that moment of seeing the stag fall almost at her feet and of later learning that it was he who had fired the shot that saved her life. “I owe you so very much,” she said, half laughing, as though relieved all over again.

He shook his head as well, as though he too had just recalled the entire ordeal.

Mr. Doulting said, “I trust Mr. Hemyock is being forbidden the use of the troupe’s firearms.”

Judith turned to him and laughed. “He has suffered wretchedly since that time, most fortuitously. His arrogance continued unabated until it was finally borne in upon his stubborn mind that not one person believed him guiltless. Indeed, John—that is, Mr. Ash—nearly came to fisticuffs with him over the matter. But Mr. Hemyock is a brilliant player, as I am sure you must agree. He just lacks sense.”

Mr. Doulting offered his arm. “You are being too kind to say he lacks sense. I am come to believe he lacks a brain.”

Judith laughed, as did Miss Currivard.

“And now, Aubrey, lead the way with our lovely Miss Currivard.”

Judith glanced up at Mr. Doulting, who gave her a wink and allowed his more exalted friend to take the lead.

Mr. Doulting’s company as they made their way to the dining room on the opposite side of the house was as engaging as it was amusing.

“What are your interests, Mr. Doulting, other than an enjoyment of ale and the like?”

He shook his head and grimaced playflully. “This is a very bad beginning if this is your only opinion of me. And I have been trying so hard to curtail my, er,
interest.
I am desolate at having been discovered.”

Judith would have answered him in kind, but she saw that his gaze was fixed to Miss Currivard, who upon reaching the end of the hallway had turned to speak with Lord Kelthorne. Instead, she ventured, “She is quite beautiful.”

Mr. Doulting sighed heavily. “Fearfully so,” he said. He then eyed her uneasily and added hastily, “Of course, everyone thinks so.”

“Of course,” but she smiled regardless.

“I believe I must confess to you that when Aubrey and I reached the hallway beyond the conservatory, we heard you singing. We could not help but wait and listen for some few minutes, ‘twas so beautiful. Do you despise us for spying on you?”

“Had you been discovered,” she said, “I should have supposed you were being considerate in not interrupting our rehearsal.”

“Why, yes, now that I think on the matter, I believe that is precisely what we were doing.”

Judith chuckled. She liked Mr. Doulting very much. He was forthright in everything, a good, just, tolerant man and obviously an excellent friend to Lord Kelthorne. She wondered if the earl realized, however, that Mr. Doulting was in love with Miss Currivard. She had noticed his interest before. She had noticed how he strove to entertain her when Lord Kelthorne was absent from her side. She also noticed that not once did he cross the bounds of propriety or even of friendship for she sincerely doubted that Miss Currivard had even the smallest notion of his
tendre
for her.

Chapter Nine

Judith was quite surprised by how easily she adapted to genteel society. Miss Currivard had insisted she dine each day with the castle party, following their rehearsal, and so she had.

Because she had been raised in just such an environment, in a home that was lovely with tradition, beauty, and elegance, her manners more than once caused Lady Radsbury to start and, on the third day of rehearsals, to say, “Good God, Miss Lovington. I vow I have told you things I have not even told my sister and you, an actress.”

She then regretted her words. “I beg your pardon. I was not thinking. You see how confused I am about who you really are. It is no wonder that my brother... that is... I beg you will forget everything I have just said to you.”

She rose from her seat quickly. The yarn she had been gathering into a ball from the same strands spread in a loop between Judith’s arms, dropped to the floor. She even quit the drawing room, leaving Judith to stare at the empty seat, a blush descending hotly on her cheeks.

She felt tears spring to her eyes and might have given way to such powerful feelings had Kelthorne not come to her in that moment and picked up the yarn. As one who had assisted his sisters over the years, he sat down and began winding the yarn.

“I see Mary has taken a pelter but I would not refine too much upon it, Miss Lovington. She is often out of frame.”

Judith was not certain what to say. She was still so astonished by Lady Radsbury’s conduct, and at the same time shocked by her own feelings, that her mind would not settle. She moved in rhythm with each winding of the yarn, her own arms rising and dipping to better facilitate the task.

“Indeed, Judith,” he said very quietly. “Please do not be distressed.”

She looked up at him as he continued winding the ball. “I am trying valiantly not to be,” she said at last, taking a deep breath. “And I promise you, your sister was not angry or offended. Merely—” Judith looked away from him unable to complete her thought.

“What, then?” he asked, again very quietly.

Judith glanced about the chamber. Mr. Doulting was seated at the pianoforte entertaining Miss Currivard who in turn was laughing and holding her side. Miss Banwell and Miss Upton were pouring over the latest issue of
La Belle
Assemblee
as though nothing in the entire world could be of greater importance. And the rest of the party was gathered about the whist table from which place a sudden groan erupted from two of the players and cheers from the others.

Judith gathered her thoughts. “Merely, your sister became quite flustered when she remembered that I belong to the troupe camped in your vale.”

“Ah,” he said, smiling and nodding. “As to that, I believe we have all had such an experience over the past several days. You see, there is nothing in your manners or speech that would set you in the smallest way apart from the guests in my home.”

She smiled, liking the intimate conversation very much. Without giving it too much thought, she said, “My governess would have been so pleased to hear you say so. You cannot imagine how much your words would have delighted her.”

“Your governess?” he queried, lifting a brow.

She knew what he was thinking, that she had just revealed something of her past to him. For several days she had been able to parry his inquiries quite masterfully. In this moment, and perhaps because of his kindness, she was not so reluctant to keep such information from him. “Yes, my governess. She was an excellent woman, highly intelligent, and a good friend to me in a time of great need. Yes, she would be happy to hear you say that I had not disgraced her excellent name.”

“Do you never write to her nor hear from her?”

“She left England some time past and moved to the Colonies.”

“Would that be eight years past?”

Judith nodded.

“I see. And do you miss your home?”

She could hardly speak for fear her feelings would best her. Finally, she said, “You can have no notion how very much.”

“Did you live in a castle?” He was smiling, but she saw great sympathy in his eyes.

“No, but my father’s home was quite lovely. A small manor of ancient origin and design and in a prosperous area of Sussex.”

“I wonder that you were ever able to leave it,” he said quietly, regarding her closely.

She held most of the memories at bay, save a very sweet one of seeing her father sitting in his Bath chair beneath an apricot tree. A thick blanket covered his legs and though the day was lovely, like these dreamlike summer days she had been enjoying of late, he’d had need of a layer of warmth. Though he’d been ill, he was smiling that day, watching her try to fly a kite on a perfectly windless day. She had run up and down and up and down a hundred times, a thousand times. He had laughed at her so. Maybe that was why she continued to try to fly her kite when even the leaves on the apricot tree were silent. How she had loved his smiles.

She knew she had told Kelthorne more than in any previous conversation and ordered herself to be more guarded. She therefore ignored his searching comment and instead, said, “I think you would have liked my father. He was such a good man and not in the usual style. He often said he would forgive a man anything were he just to live without hypocrisy before the world.”

Lord Kelthorne paused in the yarn wrapping. “That is very broad thinking, indeed.”

She smiled. “I said you would have liked him.”

He smiled as well. “I suppose I would.”

A burst of laughter erupted from near the pianoforte.

Judith’s gaze was drawn to Mr. Doulting and Miss Currivard.

Once more, she glanced at Miss Banwell and Miss Upton.

They were smiling and laughing together as well.

“You have been doing that all day,” Kelthorne said quietly, once more wrapping the yarn about the growing ball.

Judith brought her attention sharply back to the earl. “What do you mean?”

“I have observed you several times watching the others with an expression very near to longing in your eyes.”

Judith sighed. “How could I not when Miss Banwell and Miss Upton put me so forcibly in mind of my cousins? They used to reside in Kent, but since they were older than I and very beautiful, besides being in possession of excellent dowries, I would expect they are married by now and living in other places.”

She watched a frown grow between his brows. She felt uneasy. She should not have alluded to her past for it was most dangerous. She had even given clues to her identity that ought not to be given.

He looked at her, his penetrating blue eyes piercing her heart yet again. He opened his mouth but she spoke hastily, preventing his speech. “Pray do not ask,” she whispered, “for I cannot give you answer.”

“Why?” he asked bluntly.

She felt a blush creep up her cheeks. Her heart beat strongly in her chest. “Because I cannot.”

“How is it you left your home and your good father to take up with an acting troupe? How could he have let you go?”

How could she tell him he was dying when she left or anything else about that wretched day eight years past. “Some decisions, even despised, are absolutely necessary.”

He ground his teeth. “Are you to remain a mystery forever? Why will you not trust me with the truth?”

“Why will you not trust me that I simply cannot?”

He shook his head but she supposed the logic of her response made some sense to him for a small smile, reaching to his eyes, appeared on his lips.

Once more her heart gave pause. She met his gaze fully and tried to breathe but, as often happened, she found it impossible. Of course he was handsome and that might normally have accounted for the breathlessness that overtook her. However, in this moment, she rather thought the present enchantment that descended on her had more to do with his interest in precisely who she was. She found she desired nothing more than to tell him everything, to tell him of Lord Stolford’s heinous conduct and of her stepmother’s wickedness, yet she could not. She still feared that were Stolford to learn of her whereabouts he would once more pursue her, particularly since she had been given to understand that his county seat was in Somerset as well.

The thought that he might not be far from Portislow caused her to shudder inwardly.

She was relieved of having to continue the conversation with Lady Radsbury’s announcement that the coach was ready to take her back to camp. If the hour was earlier than anticipated and even if Miss Currivard appeared quite surprised that she was being sent away, Judith for her part found herself grateful. There was too much temptation for her at Castle Portislow, and that of a varied sort, to allow her to remain with a proper degree of equanimity. She feared revealing too much to Kelthorne and she was growing far too comfortable in her discourse with Miss Currivard. In her opinion, Lady Radsbury had shown great good sense in sending her away so she could not repine.

Perhaps because of Lady Radsbury's concerns, the two remaining rehearsals were kept both secluded and brief although Judith was still continually overwhelmed by how easily and rapidly she fell into conversation with Miss Currivard. She shared with the tradesman’s daughter so similar an opinion on so many subjects, that by the last day of rehearsal it seemed to her that she might as easily have been friends with Miss Currivard for years rather than a scant sennight. If more often than not she lay awake at night in her tent, yearning for that which she knew could never be, in what was proving to be a beautiful stolen season, she felt such longings to be a small price to pay for the pleasures of Miss Currivard’s understanding, friendship and daily tea with her in the small music room at the castle.