Lament for a Lost Lover Page 7

  Everyone laughed.

  “Oh, Edwin,” said Lady Eversleigh, “what a tease you are! He always has been. He says the most outrageous things.”

  “You should banish me from polite society, Mama,” said Edwin.

  “Oh, my dear, how dull it would be if we did. Let us go into dinner and all get to know each other.”

  The hall was rather like the one at Congrève. There was a dais and on this the table had been set because it was such a small party. Only we did not sit in the traditional way facing the main hall, but round the table as would have been done in a small room.

  Lady Eversleigh sat at one end of the table with Lucas on her right and Harriet on her left. Edwin was at the other end with me on his right and Charlotte on his left. Sir Charles Condey was between me and Harriet.

  “It would be so much more convenient if we had a small dining room,” said Lady Eversleigh. “But we have become accustomed to makeshift in the last years.”

  “Never mind,” said Edwin, “we are soon going to be at home.”

  “Do you really think so?” I asked.

  He touched my hand which was lying on the table—only briefly but I felt a thrill of pleasure in the contact. “Certain of it,” he said smiling at me.

  “Why are you so certain?”

  “The signs and portents. Cromwell has kept his iron grip on the nation because he is a man of iron. Richard, his son, fortunately for England, has none of his father’s qualities. He has inherited the Protectorate because he is his father’s son. Oliver took it with his own strength. There’s a world of difference.”

  “I wonder what is happening at our home,” said Lady Eversleigh. “We had such good servants … so loyal. They didn’t want these Puritan ideas. I wonder if they have been able to keep the place going.” She turned to Lucas. “Isn’t it wonderful to contemplate going home?”

  Lucas said that it was, but that he could remember nothing of his home, although he recalled a little of his grandparents’ place in Cornwall.

  “We escaped there,” I added. “My mother made the long journey across the country with Lucas and me. Our home, Far Flamstead, not far from London, had been attacked by the enemy but not completely destroyed.”

  “A sad story and too often repeated,” said Charles Condey.

  Harriet said: “I can remember so well my escape from England. We had warning that the enemy were approaching. My father had already been killed at Naseby and we knew the cause was lost. My mother and I and a few faithful servants hid in the woods while they ravaged our home. I shall never forget the sight of our home in flames.”

  “My dear!” said Lady Eversleigh.

  Everyone was looking at Harriet now but she would not meet my eye.

  How beautifully she modulated her voice! She was acting a part and she was a superb actress.

  “All those treasures which one has preserved through one’s childhood … the dolls … I had puppet dolls which I made perform for me. They were real to me. I fancied I could hear their screams as the flames consumed them. I was very young, of course …”

  Silence at the table. How beautiful she was. And never more so than when she was acting a part.

  “I remember waking cold, with the dawn just showing in the sky and the smell of acrid smoke in the air. It was quiet. The Roundheads had destroyed our home, changed our lives and gone on.”

  “By God,” said Edwin, “when we get back they shall pay for what they did.”

  Charlotte put in quietly: “There was violence and cruelty on both sides. When peace comes it will be best to forget this dreadful time.”

  Charles Condey agreed with her. “If only we can go back to the old gracious life, we’ll forget this.”

  “There has been nearly ten years of it,” said Edwin.

  “It will be a new start,” Charlotte said. Charles Condey looked at her and smiled and I realized they were lovers.

  Harriet was determined to maintain the centre of attention.

  “We went back to the house … our beautiful gracious home which I had known all my life. But there was little left of it. I can remember searching frantically for my puppets. They were gone. All I found was a piece of charred ribbon … cherry coloured, which I had put on the dress of one of them. I treasure it to this day.”

  Oh, Harriet, I thought angrily, how can you! And before me too, who knows that you are lying.

  I did meet her gaze then. It challenged me. All right then, betray me. Tell them that I am the bastard of a strolling player and a village girl, that my mother was the mistress of the Squire, and the Roundheads never came near the place where we lived on his bounty. Tell them.

  She knew I would not. But I would speak to her when we were alone.

  Edwin leaned towards her. “What happened then?”

  “Obviously we could not stay in the woods. We walked to the nearest village. We had a few jewels which we had taken with us to the fields. We sold these and lived on the proceeds for a while. In one village we fell in with some strolling players. They were having a bad time and performed in secret, for the Puritans were getting a big hold on the country at that time and, as you know, they were against playacting. The theatres were soon closed but there were still a few players on the road. So we joined them, my mother and I, and do you know for a short time I discovered that I had a talent for acting?”

  “That does not surprise me,” I said, and she smiled at me again, daring me to expose her.

  “I made some puppets. I did my little performance with them and then they let me act with them. I took small parts at first and then bigger ones. But things were getting worse. Although the villagers were pleased to see us, we never knew when one of them would be an informer. It became too dangerous so we came to France. My mother was drowned on the way, for we were wrecked. I was saved and went to the home of some friends of mine. I stayed with them for a while.”

  “How very interesting,” said Lady Eversleigh. “Who were they?”

  Harriet hesitated only for a fraction of a second. She dared not say the d’Ambervilles—if indeed her story concerning them was true. How could one be sure with such an actress?

  “The de la Boudons,” she said. “You may know them.”

  Lady Eversleigh shook her head. How could she know a family which existed only in Harriet’s imagination.

  “Later,” continued Harriet, “I went to Arabella and I have been with her some time.”

  “We must all band together in these times,” said Lady Eversleigh. “And how glad I am that you came!”

  “It was so kind of you to let me. Arabella and I are such fast friends and I know that she did not like the idea of leaving me behind … and nor did I.”

  “You are very welcome,” said Lady Eversleigh. “I am sure you will help to enliven the company.”

  “Harriet always does. Ever since the strolling players came.” This was Lucas. I had forgotten that he would be wondering about her story. So it seemed had she.

  She parried that thrust with the utmost ease. “Oh, yes, what a time that was. I was with the de la Boudons when these strolling players came to them. They played for us and I told them about my being with the players and they let me take part. Apparently they were quite pleased with me, and as one of their leading players had deserted them, they asked me if I would help them.” She paused then went on: “I will be honest …”

  How can you, Harriet? I thought. She must have seen the shocked look in my eyes, for she smiled secretively. She was more lovely when she was involved in mischief, and I knew they must all be thinking how enchanting she was.

  “The de la Boudons had been very kind to me … but life with them was so dull. I asked if they would allow me to go with the players … just for an adventure. They understood that the players had brought back memories to me. They were most sympathetic. They were sure that I was a great actress, and when they heard that the company were going to Paris, they were eager for me to join them. So I did, and by great good fortu
ne we came to Congrève. There I hurt my ankle and was forced to stay behind when the players left. I realized, of course, that I was not meant to be a strolling player, and when Arabella and dear Lucas implored me to stay, I agreed.”

  “We are all very glad that you did,” said Edwin. “Otherwise we should have missed the pleasure of knowing you.”

  “We might well have met when we all return to England.”

  “Then the pleasure would have been too long delayed.”

  Harriet became animated. “You remember our play, Arabella … Lucas? How like the hall at Congrève this one is. It has the dais … it makes a good platform. What fun we had. We must tell them.”

  “The play we did,” said Lucas. “Wasn’t it wonderful? It was all due to Harriet, of course. We all took part and the Lambards—the nearby farmers—and the servants were our audience.”

  “You enjoyed it, did you not, Lucas?” said Harriet. “You were very good in your part.”

  “I was sorry for Arabella,” said Lucas. “She had to die at the end.”

  “The reward for my ill-spent life,” I said.

  “Really?” Edwin was smiling at me. “I can’t believe that you life spent in any ways but worthily.”

  “In the part I was the murderess. I prepared the poison draught for Harriet and took it myself.”

  “It was a French melodrama,” Harriet explained.

  Lady Eversleigh had grown rather pink. “Wouldn’t it be fun if we could do a little play? We have several guests coming and there are people around we could invite to see it. Do you think you could play the same thing again?”

  “Are they English, your visitors?” asked Harriet.

  “Yes … all of them … all exiles like ourselves.”

  “Our melodrama was decidedly French … all about love and passion.”

  “A most interesting subject,” said Edwin.

  “Very French,” insisted Harriet.

  Charles said: “Are you suggesting that these are subjects which don’t interest the English?”

  “No, indeed. Many are interested in them but in secret.”

  “How amusing,” said Edwin.

  “Come,” Harriet parried, “you know this to be a fact.”

  “In Puritan England, I daresay?”

  “What I am suggesting,” said Harriet, “is that we should do a play which is entirely English. Shakespeare, for instance.”

  “Wouldn’t that be rather beyond us?” asked Charlotte.

  “I know some abridged versions which make it quite easy to stage.”

  Charlotte said: “You must have done it in French.”

  “Er … yes, but I could do the translation. What do you say that we form our band of players. … All of us will have a part.”

  “You must not count me in,” said Lady Eversleigh. “I have the guests’ comfort to think of. We haven’t the servants here we had at home.”

  “Then the rest of us,” said Harriet. “That makes a company of six. We can manage. We might get someone else to join us for a walk-on part.”

  There was no doubt that they were all excited. Conversation was all about the entertainment we should give.

  We sat long over the table, and as we left it Lady Eversleigh whispered to me: “How glad I am that you brought your friend.”

  I was silent when we were in our room that night and it was Harriet who opened the subject as we lay in our beds. “Stop being so smug and self-righteous,” she said.

  “I have said nothing,” I replied.

  “No, but you look like a holy martyr. Don’t be so silly.”

  “Listen, Harriet,” I said, “I brought you here. If I went to Lady Eversleigh and told her that you came to us with the strolling players, that you pretended to hurt your ankle so that you could stay and be our governess, what do you think she would say?”

  “What a deceitful creature that Arabella Tolworthy is. She has foisted this adventuress on our house and deceived us all.”

  I couldn’t help laughing. It was so like Harriet to turn the tables.

  She looked relieved.

  “What harm is done?” she asked. “We are going to have a successful house party because of our play. You know how people love that sort of thing. Do you remember the Lambards … even the Lambard men? … They had never had such an evening’s entertainment in their lives.”

  “But they were simple country folk.”

  “I tell you everyone loves a play. What did Lady Eversleigh whisper to you as we left the table? Don’t bother to tell me. I heard. ‘How glad I am that you brought your friend.’” For the moment she was Lady Eversleigh and I laughed again. Of course no harm was done. Of course everyone was going to have a better time because Harriet was with us.

  I shrugged my shoulders.

  “So now you see reason. I think our play should be Romeo and Juliet.”

  “You are ambitious. Isn’t that going to be the most difficult one to do?”

  “I like a challenge.”

  “Should you like to be challenged as to the authenticity of the story of your life?”

  “Don’t carp. We’re going to do Romeo and Juliet.”

  “With a cast of six!”

  “Not the play in its entirety, of course, and there are others coming. Scenes from it cleverly linked to make a whole. It’s possible to do that, you know. It is what is done all the time. I see Edwin as Romeo.”

  I was silent. I had been trying not to think too much of Edwin, but he kept intruding into my thoughts.

  I had never seen or even imagined anyone so attractive. He was so good-looking, so poised; one felt he would be in command of any situation. When he had looked at me and given me that rather crooked smile, I had felt a glow of pleasure. When he had touched my hand, I felt a tremor of excitement. I wanted to be near him, to listen to what he had to say. I knew I was too excited to sleep and this was mainly due to Edwin.

  “Do you?” Harriet persisted.

  “Do I what?”

  “You’re not asleep are you? See Edwin as Romeo, I said.”

  “Oh, yes … I suppose so.”

  “Who else? That Charles Condey? He hasn’t half the charm. Or Lucas. He’s far too young.”

  “Romeo wasn’t very old, was he?”

  “He was an experienced lover. Yes, it will have to be Edwin.”

  I did not answer and she went on: “What did you think of him?”

  “Think of whom?”

  “Oh, wake up, Arabella. Edwin, of course.”

  “Oh, I thought he was very … pleasant.”

  “Pleasant!” She laughed softly. “Yes, I suppose you could say that. I believe he is most attractive in every way. He’s the heir to a great title and if they should regain their estates … and they should and more also if the King is restored to the throne … he will be very rich indeed.”

  “You have discovered a great deal.”

  “It slipped out here and there and I pieced it together.”

  “Ingenious!”

  “Not in the least. Just plain reasoning. Charles Condey is not without means either.”

  “You have done your work well.”

  “I just use my ears and eyes. Mademoiselle Charlotte is enamoured of Condey. I think there may well be an announcement. Remember we were told it was a family gathering tonight. Well, that is significant, don’t you think?”

  “Perhaps.”

  “Poor Charlotte, she is hardly the world’s most attractive woman, is she?”

  “How could she be when you have seized that title?”

  “How discerning of you.”

  “Not particularly. I thought it was the message you were conveying at the table and after.”

  “You are a little sour tonight, Arabella. Why?”

  “Perhaps,” I replied, “I am tired. I should like to sleep, you know. It has been a long day.”

  She was silent.

  Sour? I thought. Was she right? Was I thinking that I wanted Edwin to like me, to be interes
ted in me; and I wondered if it would be possible for him to notice me very much when there was such a dazzling creature as Harriet about.

  The next day everyone talked of nothing but the play. Harriet called a meeting in the morning and we all discussed how we should set about the project.

  Oddly enough she had the script with her. “I always take a few with me when I visit, because if people show themselves to be interested, I am ready,” she explained. So she had planned this. I saw it clearly now. She had led the conversation that way during dinner; she had come prepared. Sometimes she astonished even me.

  But she had certainly fired their enthusiasm. Lady Eversleigh was delighted, for I could see that Harriet had taken the burden of entertaining her guests completely from her shoulders.

  Other guests would be arriving over the next few days, and when they did we would put the proposition to them, and if any of them would like to join in, they could do so.

  Romeo and Juliet would be difficult, Harriet admitted, but if they could do it, it would be like a touch of home to the exiles, and she was sure it would be more welcome than some light French farce. We should have to work, of course. We should have to learn our lines, but as the play would be very much abridged, that would not be such a great task except for the principals.

  She smiled at Edwin. “You must be Romeo,” she said, and there was admiration in her gaze.

  “‘O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art though Romeo?’” he said. “That’s all I know of the words.”

  “Then,” I said, “You will have a great task before you.”

  “We shall have a prompter,” soothed Harriet.

  “I’ll be prompter,” volunteered Charlotte.

  Harriet looked at her coolly. “Perhaps that would be a good idea. Though we do need so many players, there are not many female roles.”

  “Bess Tredager will revel in it,” said Edwin. “She’ll like a big part. And then there is John Messenger and James and Ellen Farley. They will relish it.”

  “Then,” said Harriet, turning to Charlotte, “it seems likely that we shall need you just out of sight with the script. It’s not a bad idea, as there are so few women’s parts in the play. Some of the women may have to take men’s roles. That should be amusing. There are only the Ladies Capulet and Montague … and the Nurse, of course.”