The Earl regarded her for long moments, his eyes gleaming strangely in the light of the carriage lamps. “Yes,” he said finally, a slight smile twisting his thin lips. “I want to have what I want.”
The warmth in his eyes so unnerved Fancy that she felt herself coloring up. “In this world,” she said stiffly, “it is not always possible to have what one wants.”
The Earl shrugged. “So they told me as a child. But somehow I always persisted until I got what I wanted.”
“Exce-” Fancy stopped suddenly. She must not mention that old duel; she had promised Castleford. “Except that no one can
always
do that.”
The Earl’s gray eyes were strangely golden in the lamplight as they met hers. “I have so far been quite successful.”
“So far,” said Fancy with a shake of her head that plainly reflected her disbelief.
The Earl chuckled. “You are not yet convinced. Ah well, time is of little moment to the young. But at two and thirty one begins to experience impatience. Nevertheless, I am a man who can wait.”
Something inside Fancy trembled as she heard this. It seemed that the Earl was saying very clearly that he meant to get
her.
But, as he did not expound any further on this subject, she went back to her defense of the theater.
“The theater is good. We make people laugh. For a while they escape their troubles. And I have fun. I can be many different people.”
“And escape the emptiness of your life,” observed the Earl dryly.
“My life is
not
empty,” returned Fancy hotly.
“No, no doubt you give some affection to that creature misnamed a dog.”
“Oh! You have not listened to what I am telling you!”
“Au contraire,”
drawled the Earl. “I have heard every word, but the unmistakable fact remains. If you are an actress, men will wish to keep you. Such is the nature of the beast.”
Fancy, remembering the occasion of her first meeting with the Earl, grew even angrier. “That is their problem, not mine.”
“I hesitate to disagree with you,” said the Earl cheerfully, “but you are mistaken. Right now, for instance, many will have assumed that I have already achieved my purpose.”
For a horrid moment Fancy sat in silence. “But you haven’t!”
The Earl chuckled dryly. “But only you and I, my dear, are aware of that. York thinks we are having an intimate
tête
-à-tête, a little supper for two. And he will naturally believe that it will be followed by more.”
“Oh!” Fancy’s hands clenched into fists. “You are a beast!”
The Earl’s eyes darkened. “I should control my anger, if I were you. My own temper is easily ignited.”
Fancy heard the warning, even guessed what it might portend, but she could no longer suppress her rage. “I despise you,” she cried. “You are an impossible person. If ever I had any inclination toward ‘affection,’ which thank God I have not, your acquaintance would be enough to turn me away.”
The Earl’s eyes glittered dangerously, but Fancy was too far gone to care. “I find your company distasteful and your kisses absolutely odious. I should never -”
This last was cut off quite suddenly as Fancy found herself caught in a brutal embrace. The Earl was quite strong and fight as she would she could not hope to escape him in the confines of the coach. Still she struggled silently until one of his hands forced her chin up and his lips possessed hers.
It was a savage kiss, harsh and full of unrestrained passion, passion such as she had never experienced. To her dismay Fancy found something in herself responding to it. For one unforgettable moment her lips softened under his. Just as suddenly as he had grabbed her the Earl thrust her away from him.
“Your lips may form words that reject me,” he said, breathing hard. “But under mine they do not lie.”
Fancy marshaled her defenses. “You are mistaken, milord. Perhaps so much success with the fair ones has turned your head.”
The Earl laughed savagely and Fancy shrank away from him. “Perhaps,” he said. “But I have had much experience with the frail sex. And no woman who ever returned my kiss like that failed at last to come to my arms.”
Fancy, whose heart was still beating in her throat, gave him a disdainful glance. “Then, milord, I shall have the distinction of being the first.”
It seemed for a moment as though he might reach for her again and somewhere inside her Fancy was aware of a terrible desire to have him do so.
But fortunately for her pride the carriage came to a halt. Morgane smiled. “We have reached your residence and so you are safe - for tonight,” he said as he handed her out.
“I should think a man like you would be too proud to force a woman,” cried Fancy hotly.
The Earl smiled darkly as he left her at the open door. “I shall not force you, my dear. I assure you of that. When the time comes, you will come quite willingly to my arms.”
Chapter Ten
Fancy’s feelings of rage at the Earl were little abated when she rose several days later. The run of
Every Man in His Humour
was over, but she had to prepare for her part in
The Blind Boy.
There was a great deal to be done. Still, she could not banish the thought of the Earl’s angry kiss from her mind.
She had been kissed before, and, on occasion, she had found it pleasant enough. But never before had she felt her insides melting away like that nor her heart pounding in her throat. Morgane was a man experienced with women. There was no doubt about that. And he knew how to kiss.
At this point Fancy tossed her head disdainfully and reached for a morning dress of orange-sprigged muslin. So, the Earl knew how to kiss. That was certainly no concern of hers. She had no intention of forming any sort of connection with a man. No intention at all.
Fancy gazed critically at her reflection in the cheval glass. She was looking a little hagged these days. With a sigh she turned away and went down to breakfast.
Since this was Sunday there were no rehearsals and a long day stretched ahead of her. Full of things to be done, of course, but boding to be lonely. At the theater there were always people about, someone to talk to. And most of them were very nice people. Of course, there were a few like that little snip Annie. Undoubtedly she would have something to say about the relatively small part that Fancy had in
The Blind Boy.
Fancy made a face. If the great Peg Woffington had been willing to take small parts as well as the leads, then certainly Fancy Harper would not wrinkle up her nose at them. Of course, Fancy knew that if she had refused the part, it might very well have gone to Annie. And Annie knew that too. But Fancy couldn’t help it. If Mr. Kemble asked her to play a part, she would play it.
As the day wore on she went through her lines for
The Blind Boy.
From time to time she stopped to cast an appreciative eye at some architectural feature of the drawing room. That was one thing she could thank the Earl for, Fancy told herself with a grin. She now had a much better appreciation of the beauties of her home. And was even more determined not to leave it!
It was well into calling hours when a brisk rap from the knocker sent Henry to the front door. Fancy, listening in the drawing room, heard Castleford’s hearty tones and smiled. Here was someone to talk to.
She went to meet him. “Castleford, how nice to see you.”
The Marquis seemed surprised at this warm welcome, but he lost no time in taking advantage of it. “My dear Miss Harper,” he cried, taking Fancy’s hand in his. “I am so pleased to find you at home.”
“I do not do much visiting,” said Fancy with amusement. “And since we are not rehearsing today -”
“Of course, of course.” Releasing her hand, Castleford looked around the drawing room. “Nice place you’ve got here.”
Fancy nodded and found that she could not resist the temptation to pass on her new knowledge. “It was built by Robert Adam in the last century. Notice how he designed this room - even the paintings and carpet -to make a perfect unity.”
For a moment Castleford stared at her in dismay. Then he clapped his big hand to his forehead. “Please, Miss Harper, I beg of you. Whatever more you know of Robert Adam’s work do not grace me with the information.”
The Marquis sighed heavily. “I happen to have a Robert Adam house, every inch of which has been explained to me in the most intricate detail. I tell you, I am about ready to put the place up for sale. Just so I may not have to hear anymore about the great Adam.”
Fancy laughed. “I collect it is your friend the Earl who so enlightens you.”
Castleford nodded. “Yes, I suppose he must have done it to you, too. Isn’t it the most aggravating thing? As though one may not enjoy his house without all that nonsense about chiaroscuro and such.”
“I personally like the effects of light and shade evidenced -” At the look of utter dismay on Castleford’s face Fancy broke into peals of laughter. “All right, Castle-ford, I collect the Earl has troubled you with that, too.”
“Indeed, he has,” sighed the Marquis. “He’s an admirable man, Morgane. And my best friend. But he’s deep. Sometimes he’s too deep for me.”
Fancy was tempted to inform Castleford that his friend was also ill tempered and toplofty, but she thought better of it. “What brought you calling today? Has the
ennui
caught up with you?” she asked.
Castleford shook his head and took a step toward her.
“Won’t you be seated, milord?” said Fancy, quickly dropping into a chair.
As Castleford drew up a dainty chair that made his great form seem even bulkier, his face took on a most somber expression. “I have come to speak to you on a matter of some importance.”
Fancy nodded. From the serious look on the Marquis’s face it must be a matter of great importance.
“You remember that I told you I have been thinking lately of settling down?”
“Because of your advanced age of two and thirty,” said Fancy with a smile.
Castleford did not smile in return. “Yes. I am getting on in years and it is time for me to choose a bride.”
“Have you a particular lady in mind?” asked Fancy curiously.
The Marquis nodded. “Oh, yes. She is quite beautiful - and accomplished. And of good character. I am sure of it.”
“Castleford, I congratulate you. You will certainly be happy with such a paragon.”
The Marquis smiled sheepishly. “My happiness lies in your hands.”
“Mine!”
“Yes. I have come today -” He paused and then, gathering his courage, plunged on. “I have come to make you an offer. Of marriage,” he hastened to add.
Fancy sat in numb silence. “Castleford, you can’t marry an actress,” she said finally. “Think of your family.”
“They might not take it kindly at first. But after they got to know you, they’d come round.”
“Castleford, are you all about in your head?”
The Marquis reddened. “Of course not. You will make a very beautiful marchioness.”
For a moment Fancy considered this, but it was too much to imagine. “Castleford, I cannot be a marchioness. I do not know how. I am an actress, not a lady.”
“You can hold your own with the best of ladies,” said Castleford firmly. “And my family will receive you. I guarantee that.”
Fancy shook her head. “I am greatly honored, milord. Greatly. But I cannot accept.”
“I’ll settle a good jointure on you,” declared Castleford. “This house and your income. It will all be yours. And pin money, too.”
Fancy shook her head. “Milord, listen to me. Listen carefully. You are a very nice man. I like you. But I do not wish to marry. Truly I do not. And you know in your heart that such a marriage would not set well with your family. Think of them.”
“I should rather think of myself,” said Castleford. “For if I don’t, no one else will. And I want you. I have a lot to offer you, including my affection. And I am persuaded we should deal famously together.”
“But Castleford, you see,” cried Fancy, fastening on this information, “that is the problem. I should never marry for money - only if I had formed a partiality for the man. And much as I respect and admire you, I have not that kind of feeling for you.”
Castleford sighed. “I believe you, Miss Harper. And I rather thought you’d say something like this, but I felt I couldn’t do any damage by trying. We are still friends, are we not?”
“Of course we are,” said Fancy gently. “Good friends.”
“Well,” said the Marquis, “that is some consolation. If I cannot have you as dasher or wife then I suppose I must settle for friend.”
Fancy chuckled at this forthright statement and rose to escort the Marquis to the door.
“May I still come sometimes to call or take you for a ride in Hyde Park?” he asked sheepishly as he clapped his beaver on his head and received his gloves and cane from Henry.
“Of course,” replied Fancy with a smile. “Remember, we are friends.”
“Yes, friends.” Then the Marquis was down the steps and into his carriage.
As Henry closed the door and turned to face her Fancy laughed. “I have come up in the world, Henry. The Marquis of Castle-ford has made me an honorable offer - of marriage. I refused him, of course. But I could have been a marchioness. Imagine that.”
Henry smiled. “I rather think the Marquis, though he might marry an actress, would not wish her to continue in such a line of work.”
“I don’t suppose he would either,” said Fancy with a grin. “But in any case, we shall never know definitely - for I shall never be a marchioness.”
And with that Fancy returned to her drawing room and her script to walk once more through her lines.
But the surprises that this day was to bring her were not yet over. It was no more than ten minutes before the sound of the knocker was heard again.
Fancy felt her heart rise up in her throat. Could Morgane have seen his friend’s carriage and come to remonstrate with her? Her hand flew to her mouth in dismay. With the Earl’s kiss still so strongly in her mind she had no wish to see him.
But the tones that reached her ears were not the deep vibrant ones of Morgane’s voice. With a start Fancy recognized the tones of His Royal Highness, the Duke of York. What could he be doing here?