He was, of course, handsome in a dark saturnine way, his scar adding a certain sinister charm. And those cool gray eyes could kindle into passion. He dressed well, too, with the elegance and propriety that marked him as a Corinthian.
But many of the
beaux
who had sought her out in the greenroom at Bath had been personable, well-dressed,
and
well-mannered. And they had meant nothing to her.
Many, many times Fancy pursued this bewildering puzzle. Why should she form a partiality for this man and no other? But she never came to any resolve about it, except thinking wryly that perhaps it was her mama’s blood acting up. For certainly Mama had been an unsuitable alliance for Papa.
When this thought first entered her mind, Fancy smiled. But then it occurred to her that what Papa had offered Mama was an honorable marriage. And that, most assuredly, was the furthest thing in the world from the Earl’s dark head.
At home Fancy had given the strictest of instructions concerning Hercules. He was to be kept on a leash at all times, she ordered brusquely. And if he escaped again she would have the head of the culprit.
But one day toward the middle of November, Mr. Kemble sent the players home early. Fancy, stepping down from the hackney that she had hired because her coach was not due to arrive for several hours, paid the driver and trudged wearily toward the house. Even her knock seemed tired, she thought.
And then, as Henry opened the door, Hercules came bounding from across the room and past her. “Hercules!” Fancy commanded. But to no avail. The dog was already galloping down the walk toward the street. “Hercules! Come here.”
It was no use. With a sigh Fancy turned and made after the dog. If she reached him before he assaulted the Earl’s door, she could just drag him home.
She quickened her pace as she turned up the Earl’s walk. And then, to her surprise, the door opened to admit the dog and closed again sharply. It all happened so swiftly that Fancy could do no more than gasp and stare. It was impossible to tell even who had opened the door.
She straightened her shoulders. She might as well go after the dog. At least she could leave the Earl’s residence when she pleased. If she returned home, she could expect another visit from the overbearing Morgane.
She grasped the knocker firmly and knocked. To her surprise the door opened immediately and she found herself facing the Earl. She could not imagine what had possessed him to open his own door, but she took a deep breath. “I have come for my dog.”
The Earl looked around him gravely. “Has your dog escaped again?”
“Of course he has.” Fancy found herself put quite out of temper by such effrontery. “You just this minute let him in.”
“I think it would be wiser for you to step inside. After all, we should not want our neighbors to involve us in some sort of scandal-broth.”
Fuming, Fancy stepped inside and the Earl closed the door. “Shall we go into the drawing room?” asked the Earl pleasantly.
“Give me the dog and I shall go,” said Fancy hotly.
“The dog is being cared for by Phelps. Have no fear on that score. Come, let us be comfortable while we talk. Take off your cloak and bonnet.”
Fancy shook her head. “I just want my dog.”
The Earl shrugged. “At least you shall see how Robert Adam designed my drawing room.”
“I did not come to call or to discuss architecture,” said Fancy as calmly as possible. “I just want my dog.”
“I’m afraid that is not possible at the moment.” His hand came to rest on her elbow and she found herself guided inexorably toward the drawing room. That it was larger and grander than hers was her only impression of it. For the Earl guided her to a chair, waited until she seated herself, and then pulled one up beside her.
Fancy looked at him in bewilderment. “I do not understand why you are making sport of me.”
The Earl raised a quizzical eyebrow. “I thought I was behaving with great propriety.”
“What do you want of me?” demanded Fancy in exasperation.
“I very much enjoy your company,” said the Earl.
At this statement Fancy could only laugh sarcastically. “How is that possible? Unless you like always to be coming to cuffs?”
“No,” said the Earl. “But, as I stated before, your beauty compensates me for your vile temper.”
Fancy tried coolness. “I do not under-stand your purposes, milord, in detaining someone who wishes to be elsewhere.”
The Earl smiled darkly. “I have conceived a great desire to hear Catalani sing.”
“So?”
“Kemble having canceled her engagement at Covent Garden, she has engaged to sing at the Haymarket. I desire you to accompany me to hear her.”
“Me?” Fancy stared in amazement. “You must think I have windmills in my head to imagine I’d do such a thing.”
“I think you will,” replied the Earl, his eyes sparkling.
Fancy shook her head violently. “You mistake me, milord. I would never, under any circumstances, accompany you.”
“You have not yet heard my terms,” said the Earl.
“Your
terms?”
“Yes. You have a dog. A rather odious animal, but I collect you are fond of him.”
“Of course I am fond of him.” Fancy’s green eyes sparkled in indignation.
The Earl nodded. “I thought as much. Now, that dog is presently in my possession. I shall return him to you as soon as we have heard Catalani.”
Fancy stared. “You cannot be serious! You cannot steal my dog. I - I shall go to the authorities.”
“And who will they believe?” asked the Earl with evident glee. “A brass-faced actress or a peer of the realm?”
“I am not brass-faced!” retorted Fancy automatically, but she realized with sinking heart that the Earl spoke the truth. No one would listen to a complaint against him. “This is infamous!” she cried.
“Indeed it is,” agreed the Earl. “But I warned you that I will use any means that come to hand to attain my desires.”
“You are despicable.”
The Earl sighed. “My dear, you are wasting your time. You may call me all the epithets you care to, the case remains the same. The dog stays with me until you consent to accompany me to hear the Catalani.”
“Never!” cried Fancy.
“I should not say that if I were you,” replied the Earl reasonably. “At the present time I have no intentions on your honor. I simply desire your company.”
As Fancy patently did not believe this, he continued in the same reasonable tone. “May I remind you as to what I said at our little
tête
-à-tête after the theater? I expect you will come to me willingly.”
Fancy drew herself up stiffly. “You much mistake me, milord, if you think that will ever be the case.”
The Earl continued to survey her from cool gray eyes. “I collect that it will take some time. But in this instance I shall be satisfied to have your company to the opera.”
“You are a hardened rake-shame,” cried Fancy in distress. “I cannot be seen with you.”
Might I remind you,” he said evenly, “that you have already been seen with me? Half the world believes that we had a late tête-à-
tête
the other night. Besides, as I have repeatedly pointed out to you, an actress cannot expect to keep a good character. The nature of her calling precludes it.”
Fancy was excessively nettled by the Earl’s high-handed remarks and even more so by the cool amused way he regarded her distress.
“Yes,” he said, as though reading her thoughts. “I know I am despicable, infamous, odious. All those pejoratives that you wish to apply to me fit the case. I am also obstinate. And the means having come into my hands for attaining my end, I do not scruple to use them.”
For some moments Fancy seethed in silence. It was obvious that no amount of talking would persuade the Earl out of his designs. “Give me the dog, I will do it,” she declared, a sudden thought coming to her.
“Oh, no, my sweet.
First
we go to the opera,
then
I return the dog. It is not that I mistrust you, but -” He let the word hang in the air.
Fancy fought to keep from coloring up, but was unsuccessful.
The Earl laughed. “I am ahead of you there. Once you had the dog I collect you would spit in my eye.”
Aware that he was right, she nevertheless bristled up. “And how am I to know that you will keep
your
word? That you will return the dog?”
Morgane straightened and his eyes hardened. “I am the Earl of Morgane,” he said harshly. “My word is always good.”
From the expression on his face Fancy was sure that it was, but she could not refrain from pinching at him a little. “You must excuse me, milord,” she said with exaggerated sweetness. “I have not often dealt with gentlemen of honor.”
This hit failed to score and Morgane remained cool. “Regrettable, but somewhat predictable considering the nature of your profession.”
Fancy knew he was baiting her, but she could not help responding. “As I have been at pains to point out to you, milord, there are in
my
profession
women
of honor, though regrettably, but somewhat predictably, you have failed to make
their
acquaintance.”
“A hit,” said his lordship with a cheerful smile. “You are a most entertaining companion, Miss Harper, a definite remedy for
ennui
. For besides your beauty you also have a sharp wit.”
Fancy received this compliment in silence. He needn’t think that he could get around her with sweet words. “Will you please be so kind as to tell me what I must do to get back that miserable animal?”
“Certainly. The next evening that you are not treading the boards we shall go to the opera. When will that be?”
Fancy considered thoughtfully. “I have no part in
The Roman Father
which plays Monday next.”
“Capital!” said the Earl. “Now, I shall expect you to be your usual beautiful self. I should prefer a gown of very dark green. Have you such?”
Fancy nodded. It was one of her favorites, but of course she did not say so.
“Good. And wear your hair simply, no ostrich plumes. And no jewels.”
This last rather took Fancy by surprise, but, since she had no jewels but her stage ones, except a simple string of pearls that had been her mama’s, it was certainly no hardship.
“Have you a cashmere edged in green?”
“Yes.”
“Then bring it. And as to your behavior” - Fancy stiffened but the Earl continued mildly - “I shall expect you to make every effort to be pleasant.” He raised a hand to silence her protest. “I know that will be difficult for you, but I expect you to make the effort. You are, after all, an actress. Think of it as a role. And I, too, will be charming. Such, I believe, as you have never seen me. Have you any questions?”
“And when will Hercules be returned?”
“I will myself lead him to your door the moment we return from the opera.”
“I will do it,” said Fancy. “But I still think you are odious.”
“Quite within the bounds, I assure you. There is perhaps, however, something you have not considered.”
“Oh?” said Fancy. “And pray, what might that be?”
“Such an evening may serve to dissuade York in his pursuit. He is still determined to pursue, is he not?”
Fancy nodded. “Yes, but it will do him no good.”
“York is a stubborn man, more than reasonably fond of women. He will not concede until he sees another has won.”
“But then I shall never be free of his attentions,” exclaimed Fancy in dismay.
“Softly, my girl, softly. I am just explaining the matter to you. Once York believes that you have become my inamorata, he will desist in his pursuits. He is, after all, a man of honor.”
Even in her anger the twisted humor of this did not escape Fancy. “Are there no men of
honor,”
she cried indignantly, “who do not try to rob women of theirs?”
The Earl raised a dark eyebrow. “The world is as it is. The wise, rather than protesting against it futilely, learn its ways.”
“Perhaps,” returned Fancy with some asperity, “I do not choose to be wise.”
“A regrettable decision certainly,” replied the Earl. “And one I shall seek judiciously to reverse.”
Fancy could only glare at him. Still, she was forced to admit that, on the face of it, his advice was quite sensible. One could get nowhere by swimming against the current, as she had learned long ago. “I am already prospering,” she said, striving for a calmness she was far from feeling. “And I am doing it
without
a protector.”
The Earl smiled. “But not, I collect, with-out the help of a man. Now, now.” He waved her into silence. “I am inclined to believe your story about not ever having seen Cavendish, but nevertheless, he was a man - and responsible for your present plump pocket. Was he not?”
Fancy could not avoid the truth of this statement. That was one of the most vexing things about the Earl. He could speak the truth and make it sound like something it was not. “I never met the Marquis of Cavendish,” said Fancy evenly. “I believe he was some distant relative of Papa’s, but I do not know just how. All I know is that he left me his house and the money to maintain it.”
“Cavendish was a weird sort,” commented the Earl. “Just the type to do something outrageous like that.”
Fancy glared at him. “What is so outrageous about a man leaving some property to a distant relative?”
“Cavendish did not leave his property to ‘a distant relative,’ said the Earl with a strange smile. “But to ‘a beautiful red-headed actress.’ One he knew would set the neighborhood all on end.”
“Why should he do that?” asked Fancy, intrigued in spite of herself.
“Because he wanted to set their backs up.”
“Are you telling me that the Marquis left me that property in order to get back at his neighbors?”
“Precisely,” replied the Earl cheerfully. “And he succeeded, did he not?”
“I’m sure I don’t know,” replied Fancy. “I have been a good neighbor.”
“Oh, indeed,” replied his lordship with that lazy smile that so outraged her. “The gentlemen all tip their hats and bow, do they not?”
“Of course. They are most polite. And so am I. I am not the hurly-burly girl that you imagine me to be.”
The Earl chuckled. “The ladies of the neighborhood do not see you as a hurly-burly girl either. They see you as a beautiful incognita who may make a connection with one of their men.”