No Place For An Angel

‘Very well. Then I shall make one further suggestion. You and your companion can travel in the carriage and set off first thing in the morning while I shall set out on horseback a few hours later,’ Valbourg said. ‘I will no doubt catch up with you at some point along the road, but for all intents and purposes, we would be leaving London separately, thereby giving the gossips nothing to talk about. Does that meet with your approval?’

Catherine wanted to find fault with his suggestion, but found she was unable to do so without sounding ungracious. Yes, there was a possibility she would be seen riding in the Marquess of Alderbury’s carriage, but what harm could come of it if neither the marquess nor Valbourg were with her? Especially since Mrs Rankin would be at her side the entire time. ‘Very well, Lord Valbourg, I accept your offer and thank you for it.’

‘Splendid. Because I have a favour to ask in return. Would you consider singing for Lady Brocklehume and her guests one evening?’ he asked. ‘For a fee, of course.’

Catherine looked at him in surprise. ‘You have taken it upon yourself to arrange your hosts’ entertainments?’

‘Only when it comes to you. The countess enjoys your performances, and I am hopeful if she is very pleased with the arrangements, she will put in a good word for me with her husband. I have been trying to persuade him to sell me one of his prize stallions for some months now.’

It was such a male justification that Catherine couldn’t help but smile. ‘Fine. If that is all that is required by way of repayment, I am happy to comply.’

‘Ah, but I did not say that was all that was required,’ he said, his voice dropping. ‘Have you given any more thought to what we talked about the other night?’

In a heartbeat, Catherine’s mood of joyous optimism faded. She knew what he was referring to and wished with all her heart he would let the matter drop. ‘I have given it no further thought whatsoever. I told you how I felt about the subject at the time.’

‘Yes, but I am not willing to let the matter rest. However, this is neither the time nor the place to discuss it,’ Valbourg said as a cluster of giggling girls made their way across the lobby towards them. ‘Hopefully, we will have an opportunity to converse during the journey to Cheltenham. Or while you are at Swansdowne. I will, of course, arrange for a carriage to collect you from wherever you are staying and return you there after your performance. Unless you wish to spend the night at the manor?’

Catherine’s head whipped round, her gaze locking with his. What was he suggesting? That she might like to stay at Swansdowne for the night...or that he wanted her to? Was he rethinking his decision about the role he wished her to play in his life? She supposed it was possible, but if he thought to initiate an affair at Swansdowne, the chances of it being discovered were exceedingly high. Bedroom hopping was a commonplace event at country-house gatherings, and though a blind eye was often turned to those who were discreet, Catherine suspected an affair between Valbourg and an actress would not be so casually overlooked.

Besides, she would have Thomas with her by then. She had no desire to leave him alone at Gwendolyn’s house after having so recently been reunited with him. ‘Thank you, my lord, but I think it best I return home at the conclusion of the performance. I would not wish to offend my friend by spending a night away so soon after my arrival.’

‘If your friend is aware of how popular a performer you are, I dare say she would understand. However, the decision is yours.’

Catherine nodded, the complexity of her thoughts threatening to bring on a headache. ‘I must be leaving. My maid is waiting for me in the carriage.’

Valbourg bowed. ‘Then I shall escort you to it.’

Catherine was tempted to argue, but the lobby was still crowded with admirers, and none of the gentlemen she wished to avoid had left. No doubt some were waiting to see what she did, perhaps hoping to catch her alone. As such, walking to her carriage on her own might not be the wisest course of action. Theo had moved away and she was reluctant to call him back, though she had a feeling Valbourg would prove a far more effective barrier.

‘What is your address in Cheltenham?’ Valbourg enquired as they walked out to the carriage together.

‘High Street, near the park, but I think it best I make my own way to Swansdowne and back,’ Catherine told him. She saw Lily, who had been waiting by the carriage, bob a curtsy and quickly climb inside. ‘It would be more prudent.’

‘But not nearly as entertaining. However, I bow to your wishes. I shall arrange for the carriage to pick you up from Green Street at eight o’clock Thursday morning.’

Halfway into the carriage, Catherine stopped and turned around. ‘What makes you think I live on Green Street?’

‘Because while you may be a very talented actress, you are an extremely poor liar.’ He helped her the rest of the way into the carriage and then closed the door. ‘Good evening, Miss Jones.’

He nodded at the coachman, and the carriage sprang forward, leaving Catherine with no opportunity to reply. She stared at Lily in bewilderment. ‘How did he know where I lived?’

‘Don’t look at me, miss. I certainly didn’t tell him,’ Lily said. ‘But I doubt it would be all that difficult for a man like that to find out. Is there a reason you don’t want him knowing where you live?’

‘Not really. It’s just that...’ Catherine stopped, thinking about the night she had instructed his coachman to drop her off a few streets over from where she lived. Had Valbourg known even then that she was lying? ‘Never mind. I don’t suppose it matters.’

‘Did I hear him say he would be seeing you in Cheltenham, miss?’

‘Hmm? Oh, yes. Apparently Lord and Lady Brocklehume are holding a gathering in the area, and when I told Lord Valbourg I was also travelling to Cheltenham, he asked if I would be willing to sing for them. I said I would, at which point he kindly offered me the use of his father’s carriage.’

‘And very nice, too!’ Lily said, her expression of curiosity changing to one of satisfaction. ‘I suspect that’s because he’s sweet on you.’

‘He is not sweet on me!’ Catherine said, cheeks burning. ‘A man like that would never be interested in someone like me.’

‘But a man like that doesn’t do things for people like you unless he wants to...and he clearly likes doing things for you,’ Lily pointed out. ‘So you can interpret it how you like. I still say he’s sweet on you.’

Catherine didn’t bother to reply. What was the point? Lily was a hopeless romantic who was forever devouring penny novels with the belief that dark, handsome heroes existed to sweep beautiful young women off their feet. It didn’t matter how often she was told that fiction seldom resembled real life or that the heroines of most stories didn’t live happily ever after. Lily preferred her own way of looking at the world.

Still, Catherine couldn’t deny that whether by chance or design, she was seeing rather a lot of Valbourg, nor could she deny that she was flattered by his regard. He was handsome, charming and considerate; more so than any man she had ever met. Unfortunately, he was also a marquess’s son and the type of man for whom a woman happily and willingly did foolish things.

Catherine could not afford to be foolish. Valbourg was just passing through her life. The best she could hope for with him was the kind of tawdry relationship she had been offered and turned down so many times before.

Besides, how would he feel about her when he learned about Thomas? Would he turn away in disgust? Ask why she was keeping herself chaste when her son’s existence proved she was anything but?

Best not go down that road, Catherine warned herself. She had endured enough heartache over the past five years. She had no desire to live through any more in the future.

* * *

The night after the Gryphon closed, Theo and Tandy Templeton threw one of their lavish dinner parties. The entire company was invited, and Catherine was persuaded, as were several other members of the cast, to stage an informal entertainment after dinner. Victor Trumphani would recite a passage from a Shakespearean play, Tommy Silver, one of the newcomers to the troupe, would perform wondrous tricks of magic and illusion, and Catherine would sing a selection of songs.

Anthea Templeton, or Tandy as she liked to be called, always invited an eclectic mixture of guests to her dinner parties; everyone from a viscount and his lady to a doctor and his unmarried sister. Catherine was introduced to a barrister and his beautiful French fiancée, several extremely wealthy gentlemen whose conversations led her to believe they spent more time out of the country than in it and a delightful Italian count whose broken English was colourful if not always correct.

‘He can be quite outrageous,’ Tandy confided. ‘But he is such an interesting man, no one really minds. Just don’t take anything he says to heart. Italians can be such notorious flirts. I should know. I almost married one!’

As always, the guests mingled together well, no doubt due to the relaxed atmosphere Theo and Tandy took such care to foster. Catherine spotted the viscountess laughing with the barrister’s wife, saw the doctor chatting with Victor Trumphani and heard Theo speaking quite respectable French to the barrister’s fiancée. The Italian count flirted with every lady he could, but Catherine soon discovered that Tandy was right. He was harmless as long as you didn’t let his blandishments go to your head.

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