Louise Allen - The Notorious Mr Hurst

He wanted to make love to her. Oh, yes, he most definitely wanted that. His imagination had no trouble conjuring up the image of her naked on his big bed upstairs, that thick hair tumbling around her shoulders, her hands gripping his shoulders as he sank into the tight wet heat of her. But he also, oddly, wanted to get to know her. Understand her, not simply discover why she had come up with this madcap scheme. And why should he want to do that?

Eden gave himself a brisk mental shake and returned to his post. Bills, letters from aspiring players, the opening scenes of a play written in odd green ink… He really should get a secretary for all this.

One plain white wrapper of fine quality paper, sealed with a crest pressed into the dark blue wax; that looked more interesting. He cracked the seal and spread out the single sheet.

Lord Pangbourne requests the pleasure of Mr Hurst’s company for refreshments during the second interval at the Unicorn on Monday next.

‘My God, she has told him.’ Eden stared at the invitation, reluctant admiration stirring. No sign of a horsewhip, not yet at any rate. Perhaps the earl was as unconventional as his daughter, or perhaps he thought to show her just how unsuitable a person Eden was for her to associate with by putting him into a social situation.

That was the logical answer. And in order to remove the puzzle of Lady Maude from his life, all he had to do was to turn up and act as Lord Pangbourne would expect. Eden toyed with the combination of clothing and manner that would make him appear louche, dangerous and entirely impossible.

His on-stage style was already established; he just needed to develop that to the point of caricature. He had seen enough old-school actor-managers to be able to assemble the worst characteristics of all of them. And then even the most indulgent father would take fright and bundle his daughter off out of harm’s way, leaving Eden to manage his theatre in tranquillity.

He picked up the paper and as he did so the faint scent of gardenias wafted to his nostrils. So, this firm black hand was not that of the earl or his secretary. Lady Maude herself had penned it. Eden smiled thinly. Was her father even aware he was going to have a visitor to his box on Monday night?

Chapter Five

‘It is fortunate that the private boxes at the Unicorn are spacious, for this one seems very full of large men tonight,’ Jessica remarked to Maude on Monday evening as the Derehams entered with their guest. Lord Pangbourne, with Gareth at his side, was greeting them, giving the friends the opportunity to study As he’s naval acquaintance.

‘Why not fall for him ?’ Jessica whispered. ‘He looks so distinguished in that uniform and he is very good looking and not too old either. Not more than thirty, do you think? A younger son, of course, but excellent connections. Your father would be delighted.’

‘I have no interest in other men, as you very well know,’ Maude hissed back, too tense to enjoy being teased. The officer was tall and rangy in his dark blue uniform, his hair close cropped, his eyes, as he turned to be introduced to the two young women, a deep and attractive blue against weather-tanned skin.

‘Lady Standon, Maude, this is Captain Warnham. My lord—Lady Standon, my daughter Lady Maude.’

Greetings exchanged, the captain settled his long frame between Maude and Jessica. ‘It is a long time since I have been inside an English theatre,’ he commented, looking around with interest. From the boxes opposite came the flash of light on lenses as opera glasses were raised to scrutinise comings and goings. It would be all round the ton before long that a handsome naval officer was newly in town.

‘You have been at sea for many months?’ Maude enquired, fanning herself. The theatre was crowded and the heat rising from the gas lamps added to that generated by the crowd and her own anxiety.

‘Three months in the South Atlantic, ma’am. I am back for some weeks before sailing for Jamaica on another mission.’

‘The West Indies? How fascinating, I have always wanted to go to those islands.’ Maude, her twitching nerves over Eden momentarily forgotten, leaned closer. ‘They always sound so romantic and exotic.’

Captain Warnham smiled. ‘They have their charms, I am sure, but they also have slavery, hurricanes, tropical disease and pirates.’

‘And sunshine and blue seas and parrots and waving palm trees,’ Maude said wistfully, thinking of the drizzle that affected London.

‘My husband and Lady Belinda have a cousin in Jamaica, do you not, Bel?’ Jessica raised her voice to catch Bel’s attention.

‘Jamaica? Yes, Clemence Ravenhurst. We are expecting her father to bring her over to England this summer to stay so she can have an English come-out next Season. I expect your ships will pass in mid-Atlantic, Captain.’

They began to chat, Bel and Gareth explaining what they knew about their youngest uncle, a highly successful West Indies merchant.

Now he is in trade , Maude thought resentfully. The youngest son of a duke and no one thinks the worse of him for it. But, of course, Lord Clement Ravenhurst was a very successful man and did not soil his own hands with the details of his luxury goods business. Presumably wealth and birth wiped out the stain of trade, if you had sufficient of both.

‘What a pity he will not be at home when you are there, Captain Warnham,’ Bel concluded. ‘We would have given you letters of introduction.’

The orchestra began to file into the pit and tune up, earning catcalls and jeers for the cacophony from the common folk up in the one-shilling gallery. The noise gradually subsided back to the usual hubbub and then the lights were dimmed and the curtain rose on the first piece of the evening, a short farcical item featuring the company heavy as a strict father, thwarted at every turn by the ingenious antics of his daughter’s suitors.

‘I have every sympathy with the fellow,’ Lord Pangbourne remarked as the furious father chased a young man over a balcony while, behind his back, another rake took advantage and snatched a kiss from the daughter. Maude recognised Tom Gates, the ambitious walking man, who whisked out of sight behind a convenient curtain in the nick of time.

‘It is an ingenious piece,’ Captain Warnham agreed, laughing at the business between the cast, the maid changing clothes with her mistress, while the two young men dressed as footmen and the baffled father searched frantically for his daughter. In a few minutes the happy couple escaped down a rope ladder, the remaining suitor consoled himself with the maid and the curtain came down on appreciative applause.

There was a short interval before the next piece, a ballet. Maude reviewed her preparations for the main interval: canapés, champagne, two small tables to be brought in and the seats rearranged. But who to place where?

She wanted her father to appreciate Eden’s strong points, not be distracted by long hair or diamond ear studs or over-emphatic tailoring. Perhaps best not to place him next to the clean-cut Lord Warnham in his dress uniform. Between Bel and Jessica then…

‘You are muttering,’ Jessica said.

‘I want you and Bel to sit either side of Mr Hurst,’ Maude whispered back. ‘I don’t want him sitting next to Captain Warnham and making Papa think of haircuts.’

‘I think the length of his hair is the least of your problems.’

One step at a time , Maude told herself, sitting through the ballet in such a state of abstraction that she would have been hard pressed to say whether there had been dancers or circus horses on stage if questioned afterwards.