Playing The Duke's Mistress

Miss Fairmont had performed even better tonight, if that were possible.

‘So you’re going ahead with your plan to court Miss Fairmont?’ Herbert asked. ‘That’s fast work. Oh, I say, there’s Mabel. Must dash.’

He scuttled away towards the stage door.

Darius frowned as he backed into the shadows in the alleyway. For some reason Herbert’s comment rankled.

Miss Coop appeared from the door encased in yellow fur. The sound of her voice as she greeted his cousin grated on Darius’s ears.

His frown became a scowl. In his worst moments, the sound of a similar whining tone still haunted him. He had taken up the title. It was now up to him alone to ensure the family name suffered no further blackening. The Carlyle curse must be broken. And no matter what else she turned out to be, he must not forget that Miss Calista Fairmont was an actress.

As he watched a group of men in top hats jostle by the stage door his lip curled. Merrick wasn’t among them, although he’d spotted him earlier, in the playhouse. What was the fuss about actresses? The crowd of admirers in the alleyway looked pathetic, waiting like dogs to be thrown scraps by their mistresses.

How he despised that kind of behaviour. Now for his cousin’s sake he was being forced to play along.

A few of the gentlemen were buying flowers from a street vendor. With a flick of his glove he summoned the vendor to his side and passed over a few silver coins. The blooms were scraggy, well past their best, but he bought a bunch of bronze chrysanthemums. No doubt they would appeal to Miss Fairmont’s sensibilities. Surely all women, and especially actresses, liked bouquets.

It was some time before she came out of the theatre.

He stepped out of the fog and lightly touched her shoulder. ‘Miss Fairmont.’

She spun on her heel, her lips pressed together as if she had barely suppressed a shriek.

Darius frowned. There it was again, that look of fear. He could see in the dim gaslight that she was fatigued, too, from her performance. Two faint shadows lay beneath her eyes. Once again she’d put her heart and soul into the part. No matter his reservations about women of her profession, he had to admire her talent. It was extraordinary.

Her shoulders dropped. ‘Oh! It’s you again.’

‘Indeed,’ he drawled. ‘Were you expecting someone else?’

‘I saw you from the stage. I was most surprised.’

‘Were you?’ He made the question suggestive.

She didn’t respond to his tone. ‘I didn’t expect you to watch it again.’

‘It’s you I enjoyed watching, Miss Fairmont.’

She drew back. ‘Oh.’

Darius cursed beneath his breath. He never seduced women in such a manner. Hiding his discomfort, he bowed. ‘I was hoping to have the privilege of offering you a lift home in my carriage tonight.’

She shook her head. ‘Thank you for the offer, but I thought I had made it clear last night. I prefer to walk.’

‘I hope I can convince you to change your mind.’

Her expression was frank. ‘Why?’

He raised an eyebrow. ‘Would you believe I’ve taken a fancy to nightly exercise?’

She laughed, an attractive low chuckle. ‘I’m not sure I believe you.’

‘Perhaps I’ve taken a fancy to your company.’ He was startled to find that wasn’t quite a lie. Now that she stood in front of him again he realised just how charming a woman she was. Watching the play night after night hadn’t been the trial he’d expected. In fact, it was becoming quite the reverse. ‘I’d enjoy more of your company, if you will do me the honour.’

Her next words surprised him even more.

She stepped closer, and spoke quietly, but with a firmness that was unmistakable. ‘Your Grace. I appreciated your apology last night. But as a rule, I don’t consort with gentlemen from the audience. It gives rise to...’ She stopped and bit her lip. ‘Unfortunate impressions. Thank you, but, no.’

This time it was he who took a step back. ‘No?’

‘No,’ she said firmly. Then she curtsied. ‘I’m glad you enjoyed the play. I hope you’ll continue to enjoy the theatre.’

Pulling the hood of her cloak over her head, she made for the street.

‘Miss Fairmont. Wait.’

She swirled back, sending the fabric of her cloak flying.

‘Will you at least take these?’ He pushed the clump of chrysanthemums towards her. Suddenly their yellow seemed brassy and brash.

She inclined her head and took them in one hand. ‘Thank you. Goodnight.’

Leaving Darius standing in the alley, she disappeared into the fog.

* * *

Calista chuckled as she dipped her pen in the ink, poised over her folio.

The night before, when she’d refused the company of the Duke of Albury, she’d wanted to laugh, his expression had been so comical. She still couldn’t understand why he’d been there a second time.

When he’d touched her shoulder he’d given her a fright. It had been a relief to see it was him and not—

The pen slipped from her fingers. She put her hand to her tight chest. Her senses were still on high alert. Once again, she’d almost been tempted to accept the duke’s offer to walk her home. Her instincts made her yearn to trust the duke, but she knew she had to suppress the feeling. She couldn’t afford to trust anyone.

Calista picked up her pen and tried to breathe.

* * *

Darius studied the tumble of gems that lay in open boxes in front of him.

He couldn’t believe Miss Fairmont had refused to let him accompany her home a second time. At the stage door the night before he’d watched, stunned, as she stepped briskly away. It had been so unexpected that he hadn’t had the wits to make a rejoinder and convince her otherwise. It had been a most unusual, indeed, disconcerting experience.

After her rebuff, he’d gone home to study his list. It was time for the next item.

Glistening on black velvet, the jewels formed a rainbow of colours. White diamond. Green emerald. Red ruby. Blue sapphire.

There it was. The sapphire engagement ring surrounded by seed pearls that his father had possessed the decency not to use again. He clamped it in his fist. He could still recall how the ring had become looser on that thin finger, until one day it had slipped off. He wouldn’t have been able to have borne seeing it on another plump, grasping hand. It would have been the ultimate insult.

He unclenched his palm to study the ring. The sapphire blue was so deep. It reminded him of Miss Fairmont’s eyes. He put the ring away in its box and snapped down the lid.

He slid it into his pocket. It didn’t belong in the vault.

He paused, surveying the remaining jewels. Now, what would tempt an actress? He’d seen enough to know. The brighter, brassier and more vulgar the better surely.

He passed over the strings of pearls, imagining them around Calista’s swan-like neck.

They would suit her, but he needed something more extravagant. Pearls spelt class. To tick this particular item off his list he needed a bauble that signalled money. That was what she’d be unable to resist, he was certain. After all, he’d seen the strategy work with one particular actress every time like a shiny charm.

Then he spied it, the perfect item. A gold bracelet, chunky with red ruby hearts. He winced as he remembered its history. It wasn’t one of the family jewels. He held it up and dangled it from his fingers. The rubies glowed blood red. He weighed it up and down in his hand. It would be heavy against Calista’s delicate wrist. But it would no doubt appeal to her.

Darius dropped the bracelet into a velvet pouch. It would do the trick.

* * *

‘Please accept this token of my admiration.’ Calista read the note from the Duke of Albury in amazement.

Why was the duke sending her a gift? Had he not understood her refusal?

She shook open the velvet pouch. Glimmering gold and red burst out and snaked on to the dressing table.

‘Did His Grace bring this himself?’ she asked the stagehand coldly, then modulated her voice. It wasn’t this man’s fault. He was only the messenger.

The stagehand shook his head. ‘No, Miss Fairmont. It was a valet and he’s gone. But he said the duke will be in attendance tonight.’

‘I see. Thank you.’

He thought she was playing games with him, Calista realised, feeling sick. He had presumed she’d be unable to resist a glittering bribe.

With distaste she picked up the bracelet. The gold chain was thick and five ruby hearts hung from the clasp. She couldn’t imagine the kind of person who would wear such an ornament.

Calista’s fingers clenched around the metal. A token of his admiration.

She felt a wave of nausea, then anger. For all his dislike of Mabel’s affair with his cousin, it seemed the duke was just like all the other aristocrats who hung around the stage door behaving as if actresses were part of the night’s entertainment, whether on or off stage. It was disappointing. She’d almost begun to think better of him.

Calista fumed. Tonight, after the show, she would make it clear to the Duke of Albury that the last things she wanted were his bracelet, his flowers or his attention.

She pulled the string of the velvet pouch tight.

* * *

Darius took out his watch from his waistcoat pocket and cursed.

He’d missed the performance of As You Like It.

The meeting he’d attended earlier had turned into drinks and then dinner at his club. It was House of Lords’ business, and the governing of the country couldn’t be stopped for a play, but he was stunned to realise how annoyed he was to have missed seeing Calista Fairmont on stage again. He’d seen her perform two times now, but still a part of him had been eager to see her play the lead role again, and not just for a glimpse of those excellent legs.

Hurrying along the London streets, he pocketed the watch. She usually left the theatre later than the other cast members, so he might still be able to catch her.

Who knew? She might even be waiting for him, the ruby bracelet dangling from her wrist and a coy expression on her face.

Surely no actress could resist such a bauble.

He turned into the alleyway. In the dim light he saw two figures in the fog.

He could just make out Miss Fairmont’s slender figure, but it wasn’t as upright as usual. She wasn’t cowering, her spine was too straight for that, but she was certainly backing away from the taller, male, top-hatted figure who had backed her against the alley wall.

Darius shouted, ‘What in hellfire is going on here?’

Chapter Four

What business could he have here, and with her?

Nicholas Rowe: The Fair Penitent (1703)

‘What’s going on?’ he shouted again.

The man jerked up his head, sending his top hat spinning to the ground to reveal his too-long, sandy hair. His lips were drawn back, revealing white teeth, and his close-set eyes were narrowed like a weasel.

Lord Merrick. Darius cursed beneath his breath. ‘What are you playing at, Merrick?’

‘Nothing that concerns you, Albury,’ Merrick spat. A drop of spittle clung to the corner of his mouth, he noted with distaste.

‘I’m not sure I agree.’ Darius shifted closer, his hands clenched, and peered through the fog. Miss Fairmont’s face was white and her expression strained. Their eyes met, briefly, before he rounded to face Merrick.

‘I’m just asking this lady,’ Merrick slurred over the last word, ‘to accompany me for a drink.’

‘Do you want to have a drink with Lord Merrick, Miss Fairmont?’ Darius managed to keep his voice civil. There was no point inflaming the situation.

‘Certainly not,’ she replied.

Her voice came out a little more high-pitched than usual, but she retained her composure, he was relieved to note.

Darius picked up the top hat that had rolled to his feet, fighting back the urge to put his boot through it.

He held it out. ‘I don’t think Miss Fairmont appreciates your attentions, Merrick. Your evening at the playhouse is over. I suggest you make your way home.’

Merrick twisted to face Darius. ‘That’s what you suggest, is it?’

Darius moved another step closer.

‘Indeed.’ He made the one word a fist.

As if he’d been winded, Merrick stopped in his tracks. With a sneer he flung himself away from Miss Fairmont. ‘The wares around here are shabby anyway.’

He grabbed his hat and staggered away down the alley.

Darius rushed to Miss Fairmont’s side. ‘Are you all right?’

She nodded as she leaned against the wall, breathing heavily.

‘Thank you,’ she said simply. ‘You came just in time.’

‘He didn’t—harm you?’

‘No.’ She shuddered. ‘But he’d been drinking.’

He frowned. The situation could so easily have got out of hand.

She took another judder of a breath. Then another. ‘You know each other.’

‘Merrick and I attended the same school and are now members of the same club. We move in similar circles.’

‘Oh.’

‘He’s no friend of mine, Miss Fairmont,’ he said drily.

He was relieved to see her smile gleam through the fog. ‘I gathered that.’

‘I take it he’s no friend of yours either.’

She inhaled sharply. ‘Certainly not.’

‘Does this kind of thing happen often?’

Miss Fairmont bit her lip. ‘Leaving from the stage door every night can be somewhat akin to running the gauntlet. Unfortunately, some members of the audience consider it part of their entertainment.’

Darius frowned as he checked the empty lane. ‘Where’s the doorman?’

‘Gone home, I expect. Fred’s a good man, but even he can’t resist the kind of money that Lord Merrick throws about.’

‘A bribe?’

She shrugged her shoulders beneath her cloak, but he noted that the movement still contained a shiver. She was frightened, no matter how hard she tried to cover it up. ‘Gentlemen like that are unscrupulous. We actresses know that.’

Merrick hardly deserved to be called a gentleman after the incident Darius had just witnessed. Again, one of these uncomfortable needles of remorse pierced his conscience. Hell. In the circumstances, was he, Darius Carlyle, worthy to be called a gentleman? Was he equally unscrupulous? No, he reasoned with himself rapidly. He’d never force himself on a woman. His reason for pursuing Miss Fairmont in this fashion was unselfish, for the greater good of the Carlyle family. All the same, it made him increasingly uncomfortable. Darius had to admit his course of action was proving to be more complicated than he had ever expected.

In any case, he refused to leave her shivering in a dark alley.

He bowed. ‘I’ve asked permission to accompany you home more than once. On this occasion, I must insist.’

For a moment he thought she was going to argue again, but then it seemed she thought better of it.

‘It’s a long walk,’ she said, still trembling a little. ‘Almost an hour.’

He gestured towards the street. ‘Then I suggest we get started, Miss Fairmont.’

* * *

The fog wrapped Calista and the duke together in a misty, damp cocoon so that they might have been the only people on the street as they made their way east, away from Covent Garden. Calista’s boots clicked on the pavement, the duke’s making a deeper echo beside her. They walked in time, she realised, as she began to get her breath back. She was still shaking after that awful scene with Lord Merrick. He’d leapt out of the fog at her and heaven only knew what might have happened if the duke hadn’t appeared.

She shuddered again.

She took a sideways peep at the man next to her. His jaw was set, hard, his eyes continually scanning around them. There were still other people out, even late at night. Their faces loomed into view like yellow moons in the gaslights that lit each street corner, their voices resounding in the fog. The clatter of horses’ hooves and carriage wheels on the road lessened as they walked further from the city centre. Here, the streets became narrower, the gaslight more scant. Only the public houses were open and the blinds were drawn over the shop windows like stage curtains that had gone down.

The shops changed as they walked further, from dress shops, stationers and tea shops to bakers and grocers. The people, too, changed. Fewer top hats were seen as they walked east, and the clothing of some of the women they passed made Mabel’s often low-cut gowns look positively prissy. The policemen carrying truncheons also disappeared. Yet if the duke was aware of the difference, he made no sign. His demeanour never changed and his hands stayed in his pockets of his loose coat. His walk remained a casual saunter as they made their way together in silence, yet she sensed his alertness to every sight and sound.

Safety. For the first time in weeks walking home she allowed herself to relax. Silence was just what she needed after the scare from Lord Merrick, giving her a chance to regain her composure.

It was some time before she broke their hush. She didn’t want to talk about what had occurred back at the stage door. Instead, she asked a question that had been puzzling her.

‘When you first came to the stage door, you said you wanted to learn more about actresses. What did you mean by that?’

‘Exactly what I said. I wish to learn more about your profession.’ He seemed to sense that she needed to change the subject from talk of Lord Merrick.

‘You do?’

He chuckled drily. ‘I suppose I’ve earned your amazement. But as I told you, I’m intrigued. I can’t promise to change my mind overnight, but I’m willing to learn.’ He glanced down the street and frowned. ‘This is indeed a long walk home, Miss Fairmont, especially after a performance. Do all actresses live so far from the theatre?’

‘We used to live closer. It’s only been a month or two since we moved this way.’

‘We?’

She hesitated before she replied, ‘I live with my sister, Columbine, and our maid.’

‘So there’s no one who might collect you?’

Calista bit her lip. ‘I walk alone.’

‘Are you not worried by the fog?’

‘The fog helps, actually,’ she said.

‘What on earth do you mean?’

She grinned. ‘In the fog I can become another person. Like this.’

She moved ahead of him so that in the vapour he might only make out her shape and shifted her body so that she appeared like an old woman, a hunched, creeping figure in the dim street.

‘Or this.’ Now she made the shrunken shape of an old woman transform to that of a man with a confident stride.

‘That’s extraordinary,’ he said, when she appeared beside him once again as herself.

‘Sometimes we use a method of inhabiting the body of an animal. To become a cat—’ momentarily she arched her back ‘—or a bear, or snake. That sense of the creature helps to shape the character of the part we play.’

‘I shall beware,’ he said drily as they fell back in step together.

She chuckled. ‘Audiences may think it is the costumes or dialogue that make a good actor or actress. But it’s movement. It’s in the body. That’s what my...I was taught.’

‘Do you find it difficult to move in and out of character?’

‘You’re the first person to ever ask me that,’ she said. ‘It’s probably the most important part of the play, when it’s finished, I mean. Some actors I know are still in their roles when they go back to their dressing rooms. They might even stay in character for a day or two. But I come back to myself when the curtain goes down.’

‘Surely it’s safer that way,’ he observed. ‘Otherwise, you might lose sight of yourself. It could be dangerous.’

She shuddered at that last word.

Another acute glance came from beneath his top hat. ‘Is there really no one who might walk you home?’

‘Not at present.’ She stopped under a gaslight and pointed across the street. ‘Those are our rooms over there. Thank you for keeping me company.’ She hesitated. ‘There’s something else. I wanted to return this.’

From her reticule she pulled out the black-velvet pouch that held the ruby bracelet. It had made her so angry earlier, but after tonight she found she wasn’t angry at him any more.

‘I ought not to have sent it to you, Miss Fairmont,’ he said quietly. ‘It was an error of judgement.’

She studied his face as if searching for more clues as to his character. ‘That bracelet. It doesn’t seem...like you.’

He stiffened. ‘Your astuteness surprises me. I’ll admit it isn’t entirely to my taste.’

Her forehead furrowed. ‘But you thought it would be to mine.’

‘It was a regrettable error. I thought it the kind of thing actresses like.’

‘Do you know many actresses?’ she asked curiously.

He dodged her question. ‘Please, accept my apology. It seems I’m making a habit of apologising to you. It appears all actresses are not what I expected.’

She smiled as she curtsied. ‘I might say the same of dukes.’

At that he laughed. The two brackets she’d noted around his mouth were laughter lines after all. The expression took years off his age. She had thought him to be over thirty, but now she realised he must be eight and twenty, at the most.

‘I’m glad to hear it,’ he said.

‘And thank you,’ she added softly, ‘for what you did tonight, back at the theatre.’

‘That was my pleasure, too,’ he said rather grimly. ‘Goodnight, Miss Fairmont.’

‘Goodnight, Your Grace.’

Calista picked up her skirts and darted away, into the night.

* * *

Darius stared across the street at Miss Calista Fairmont’s slender, vanishing figure.

He uncurled his fingers. His fists had been clenched for the whole journey, hidden in his coat pockets. He rarely walked so far abroad in the city, especially at night. All his senses had been on alert, his body ready to spring into action. Most of his walks he took across his country acres, with his Labradors at his heels. Yet she covered the long distance at such a late hour and showed remarkable courage on the dangerous London streets. She had made a play of it, but he was sure it must terrify her, even without men like Lord Merrick around. By God, there weren’t even adequate gaslights here, they were so far from the better part of the city. Now Darius understood the circles under her eyes. To perform a demanding role like Rosalind and then to walk for an hour without a meal... Her thinness was now also explained.

He frowned and glanced down the street. The poor lighting made it difficult to see too far, but he made out the row of small mean buildings. There was a public house on the corner, and he could hear raised voices, two men having a brawl. Surely it was only a matter of time before some other drunken lout bumped into Calista and saw the beauty that she was.

All she had to protect herself was her extraordinary skill in transforming her body into another shape in the shadows. He had known Miss Fairmont wore skirts, but such was the masculine posture and presence she had emanated that he would have sworn it had been another man coming towards him in the dim cloud of night.

Darius stiffened. She was an actress. It wouldn’t do for him to forget that. Yet it horrified him that a woman of her talents lived in such an area. Her posturing in the fog wouldn’t fool everyone. Not if they saw that face. And that smile. It lit up the fog, brighter than a gas lamp.

He took a closer look at the brick-fronted, two-storeyed building into which she’d disappeared. She’d referred to rooms. That must mean she didn’t even have a house to herself and her sister. It seemed the sole income for the small family was being provided by Calista’s skills on the stage and that wasn’t enough pay for decent accommodation.

Under his breath he released an expletive.

Nothing had gone as he intended. Not at all. Like an actor himself, he’d been prepared to play Lothario, had planned what he might say to flatter and perhaps even begin to seduce her. He’d made his list of ways to woo an actress. He’d seen it all before, had learnt the hard way what women like that wanted. Flattery had been at the top, for actresses thrived on attention, or so he’d thought. But Miss Fairmont would have none of it. She despised flattery of her art and loathed the attentions of men like Lord Merrick.