I would have preferred to see the ugliest man possible sitting in that box instead of that exquisite dandy.
I glanced at Harriet. She had seen him, too. I was aware of the smile at the corner of her lips.
Suddenly I knew. They had told him we were coming to the theatre and he was there to see us, to torment me as he was well aware he did, to amuse himself with what to him would seem a piquant situation.
I had ceased to concentrate on the play. I was only aware of the secret looks which crossed between my party and him.
I gave no sign—at least I hoped I did not—that I had seen him. I tried to keep my eyes on the stage and pretend to be absorbed by the action; but I could not have told anyone, had they asked me, what the play was about.
After the first act he came to our box.
“What a delightful surprise!” He was bowing over our hands, his manners matching his appearance.
I realized by the looks exchanged between him and Carlotta that it was no surprise; it was an arrangement between them.
Oh, my God, I thought, what does this mean?
“I am hoping,” he was saying, “that you are going to sup with me after the play.”
“What a lovely idea!” cried Carlotta.
“That would be delightful,” said Harriet. “How kind of you! One should always sup in good company after the play. One of the delights of playgoing is to pick the piece apart afterwards. Don’t you agree?”
“I do with all my heart,” said Beaumont Granville. “Would you care to sup at my place or go somewhere else?”
“I really think we should decline this kind invitation,” I said.
They were all looking at me. He was forcing an expression of concern onto his face, although trying not to show that he was suppressing amusement.
“It is my first outing,” I stammered. “I really feel …”
It sounded so hideously selfish. Because I wanted to go home I was stopping their pleasure.
Gregory, always kind, said: “I’ll take you back if you like, Priscilla.”
They were all looking at me and I thought: No, if they are going to be with him, I must be there to see what happens. I could sense the situation becoming more and more dangerous.
“We will cheer you up,” said Beaumont Granville, looking at me pleadingly. “I have a very fine malmsey wine which I should like you to try. Do come. The company will be incomplete without you.”
“You will certainly not be able to refuse an invitation so graciously given,” said Harriet.
“You must not!” cried Carlotta passionately.
“Ah,” put in Beaumont Granville, “I believe she is wavering.”
“It is good of you all to be so concerned whether I come or not.”
“Then it is decided,” said Beaumont Granville. He sat down and we started to discuss the play. When the interval was over he returned to his box, but I was aware that throughout the play he was watching us.
There was some diabolical scheme working in his mind.
He shepherded us out of the theatre, through the crowds to our coach. He had sent his home and said he would share ours if we would permit it. I noticed how people made way for him; some called a greeting. He was clearly well known and many were in awe of him. He had an air of importance which I could see had aroused Carlotta’s admiration. In fact I was beginning to realize that Carlotta’s admiration was great and that he very much enjoyed this.
His house was only a short distance from ours.
“See what near neighbours we are!” he said. “A town house is so necessary. I have an estate near Dorchester, but I confess I spend more time in London than in the country.”
“I have never been to Dorchester,” said Carlotta.
“I hope to change that one day,” he answered.
The house was furnished in a manner to be expected of one with such elegant tastes and he was clearly proud of it.
Supper was ready for us, which showed he had had no doubt of our accepting his invitation. His servants waited on us silently and efficiently. The malmsey was indeed excellent, and so was the food, and I could see that he enjoyed playing host.
He spoke of the play and the players knowledgeably, and he and Harriet were engaged in spirited conversation.
Carlotta listened, hardly ever taking her eyes from his face. Now and then he would look at her and smile tenderly. I was stricken with horror. This was the ultimate nightmare. I could not believe it. She was giving him that kind of hero worship which young girls sometimes feel for older men.
It could not really be what I feared. He must be over thirty years older than she was. My imagination was in a fever. I was suffering from some form of hallucination.
I said: “You have a very fine establishment here, sir. Is your wife in the country?”
He turned his false smile on me. “I have no wife. No, I have never married. I have been too much of a romantic.”
“Oh, is that so? I should have thought your romantic ideals might have led you to marriage.”
“I suppose I was always looking for the perfect woman. Nothing less would suit me.”
“Then it is not to be wondered at that your search was fruitless,” put in Harriet.
“I am not disturbed that life may have passed me by.” He was looking at Carlotta now. “I think my good angel was preserving me. Do you know, it is a belief of mine that if you want something and are determined to get it, and will not allow yourself to be diverged from the main object, it comes to you in time. I am not old yet. In fact I feel fresher and more vigorous than I did in my extreme youth. No, dear ladies, I do not despair.”
“You have travelled a great deal?” I asked.
“I have seen much of the world. But having seen it I want most of all to settle down here in England … living my life between this city and Dorset. A little of the country is good now and then. It makes you appreciate how much more invigorating is life in the town.”
“Oh, I do agree,” said Carlotta. “I wish we could come to London more often.”
“Perhaps you will … now that you are becoming a young lady of fashion.”
She laughed. “Oh, do you really think I am that!”
“In the very best sense. I deplore those people who follow a fashion slavishly, particularly if it is ridiculous and does not suit them.” He had turned his admiring gaze on Carlotta. “You are too young to remember the hideous manner in which women wore their hair in Charles’s time. How they could endure those little rows of curls on the brow I cannot understand. Créve Coeurs, they called them. Heart-breakers! At least that’s what I suppose they meant. Surely there was little less designed to keep a man’s heart intact. I like to see ladies follow their own styles, as you all do so admirably, and not become slaves to the mode of the moment.”
“The lady we saw in the Mulberry Gardens … do you remember?” Carlotta was smiling at him. “She really did look ridiculous.”
“She had so many patches that they looked like a heavenly constellation,” he replied.
In Mulberry Gardens! Carlotta had betrayed the truth to me. During those days when I had been confined to my room, they had been meeting!
I do not know how I lived through that evening. I tried to hide my fears. I tried to be as merry as they were, and all the time I was endeavouring to discover how much they had seen of each other, how far this acquaintance had progressed.
If only we had not come to London!
It was late when we returned home. He put us into our carriage, kissed our hands with grace and charm, and as we made the short journey from his house to ours, my thoughts were in turmoil.
When we stepped out of the carriage and went into the house, Carlotta slipped her arm through mine.