The box was crowded tonight. Grenville stood in the middle of it, a woman in bronze-colored satin on his arm. His cronies from White's stood about, earls and marquises and well-connected gentlemen. No wives, however, which made me wonder about the woman, whose back was to me, while I shook hands all around.
By the yellow light of candles in sconces, I saw that the woman wore a diadem of diamonds in her sleek hair and had a handsome figure hugged by the shimmering gown. When I at last worked my way across the box to Grenville, he turned the lovely creature toward me while I shook his hand.
I stopped and stared in astonishment. "Marianne?"
She gave me a sardonic smile. "How flattering you are, Lacey."
Grenville's look was slightly smug but also wary. They made a fine pair, he with his dark hair and lively brown eyes in a face that, if not handsome, was arresting, and Marianne with her golden hair and forget-me-not blue eyes. Whatever modiste Grenville had her frequent had created a gown to enhance Marianne's greatest assets. The decolletage bared her shoulders and part of her bosom, but did not make her appear overly voluptuous, and the long skirt, not too much adorned, made her look willowy but not thin.
All in all, the gown was a masterwork, the creation of an artist. Her hair, instead of hanging in the little-girl curls she liked to sport, had been pulled into a coil of burnished gold and adorned with the diamonds. A few gold ringlets fell artfully to the back of her neck. Her only other jewelry besides the diadem were dangling diamond earrings and a narrow circlet of diamonds around her throat.
I saw Grenville's taste and restraint in the entire ensemble. Left to her own devices, Marianne would no doubt have loaded herself with jewels so that the actresses below, her former colleagues, could see how far she'd risen.
I realized that this was Marianne's debut. Grenville since April had been squiring her about to Hyde Park and to races, places where mistresses were accepted. Might as well flaunt my folly, he'd told me dryly. But this was the first time he'd brought her to the theatre, openly, as his guest. He'd invited all these aristocrats and highborn gentlemen to meet Marianne, to usher her into his world. That explained the absence of wives; these men could not bring their respectable ladies into a box with a former chorus actress.
"Aren't I a fine racehorse?" Marianne asked me.
Grenville frowned, but I bowed over Marianne's hand, pretending I hadn't heard. Grenville was treating her no differently than he'd treated his previous mistresses, but I had a feeling that Marianne would not be content with being an ordinary bit of muslin.
The other gentlemen in the box, however, seemed happy to accept her. The mistress of the most fashionable gentleman in England would have no small influence. She was quickly drawn into conversation while Grenville looked after her with a cautious eye.
"It is a difficult thing," he said to me in a low voice. "If I do not flaunt her as though I care nothing for public opinion, I ruin my reputation. I cannot creep about as though I am ashamed of her. But if anyone learns that I will call out any gentleman who dares make up to her, I will definitely ruin my reputation. I will be as a lovesick actor in a melodrama."
"The great Grenville cannot fall in love?" I asked, amused.
He gestured me to chairs at the front of the box. "I must conduct my entire life with cool detachment." He shot me a look as we sat. "And who the devil said anything about falling in love?"
I did not answer. Grenville had become fascinated with Marianne from the moment he'd met her, a little more than a year ago. I knew, and Grenville would not admit, that the fascination had blossomed into something deeper.
His expression softened, and he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Lacey, how did this happen to me?"
"These things come upon one when one least expects it," I said philosophically.
He shook his head. "I am wallowing, when I know your troubles are greater than mine. Marianne told me."
I had assumed she would, which was just as well. I had no wish to explain it again.
"If there is anything I can do, Lacey, you know you have only to ask."
He looked sincere. Marianne and I had been correct when we agreed that he was a generous man. "Thank you, but I will wait to see what Denis has to say."
"James Denis?" He raised his brows. "Bartholomew told me you had received a letter. It was about this?"
"Yes." While Marianne held court behind us, I rapidly explained the situation.
Grenville looked thoughtful. "Hmm. I wonder what his game is."
We both knew that Denis never did something for nothing. "I will find out."
Marianne's throaty laughter rippled to us. She knew how to charm when she bothered, and she was busily charming them all. Grenville looked dismayed. "Hell, it's started."
He did not mean the play, which had not begun. A few acrobats cavorted on the stage below, but no one was paying them much mind.
"I promise to second you in any duels that may arise," I said.
"You do not amuse me, Lacey. If I drag her to my side, I'll be a laughingstock. But if I do not, some other gentleman might."
"Marianne is no fool. She knows who you are and what you can give her."
"Humph. In other words, she will remain with me as long as I pour gold into her hand and wave trinkets before of her eyes." He heaved a sigh. "And do you know, Lacey, I am idiotic enough to do just that."
"I do not think it is that simple," I began, but I could say no more, because the acrobats were leaving to desultory applause, and the gentlemen in the box took their seats. Marianne, I was relieved to see, sat down next to Grenville.
The play was tedious. It was a shortened version of Othello, rewritten so that Othello forgave Desdemona, killed Iago in a dramatic duel, and danced and sang with Desdemona and the remaining cast. The audience knew the songs and sang along.
At the interval, two more acrobats, more skilled than those of the first group, came out to make jokes, tease the audience, and flip from each other's shoulders. A footman brought me a message, and I stood up and moved to more light to read it.
The note ran, When you grow tired of sitting in the most gossiped-about box in the theatre, perhaps you could be persuaded to visit the neglected ladies across from you, those you were at one time pleased to call your friends. D.B.
I smiled, recognizing the handwriting and the acerbic style, and looked across the theatre to the boxes opposite. Even without a glass, I could see the white-feathered headdress that adorned Lady Breckenridge's head. Stout Lady Aline Carrington was easier still to spot. She spied me looking across at them and gave me an unashamed wave.
I bowed back, took my leave of the gentlemen in the box, and made my way to the other side of the theatre.
Lady Aline's box was less crowded than Grenville's, containing only Lady Aline, Lady Breckenridge, and three other women of their acquaintance, two of whom were married to gentlemen in Grenville's box.
"Lacey, dear boy, I knew you would not forget us," Lady Aline boomed. She took my arm in a fierce grip and nearly dragged me to the seat beside her. Lady Aline was a spinster who followed the ideas of Mary Wollstonecraft and had no qualms about her unmarried state. At fifty-two, she declared herself to be well past the age of scandal, rouged her cheeks, dressed in the first stare of fashion, and went about as she liked. She had more friends than any other woman in London, and was godmother to a good number of their children. "Grenville has a new ladybird, and suddenly the gentlemen of London have no use for the rest of us."
I smiled as I sat between her and Lady Breckenridge. Lady Aline was a great friend of Louisa Brandon's, a fact which she reminded me as soon as I had finished greeting the other ladies.
"I invited Louisa tonight, but she begged off, claiming a headache. Quite right of her. I believe she ought to lie low until next Season, when plenty of other scandals will put hers out of mind. After all, her husband never did kill Henry Turner. We all knew that, of course, but magistrates can be so stupid. You were very clever to prove otherwise."