‘Now, I will not take a refusal, since Mr Jenkin has just told us you will not be playing.’
‘Then I shall do my best to attend, ma’am.’
Laughing, Charity took her leave and went off to find her maid. She half expected Ross to offer to escort her home and knew a moment’s disappointment when he did not come after her.
All the better for you, my girl, she told herself crossly. That gentleman is taking up far too much of your thoughts!
* * *
The weather had remained cold, but now it took an icy turn and Charity was glad to stay indoors, although not for long. It took her no more than a couple days to catch up on her correspondence and to set the little house in order, and after that she began to miss her usual busy schedule. With the theatre closed and rehearsals for The Clandestine Marriage not yet started, Hywel and Will Stamp had gone off to enjoy a little hunting in the West Riding, and many of the other actors had taken the opportunity to visit family or friends. Charity would not have minded being alone in Allingford, had not a fall of snow on the icy roads made it too treacherous to hire the gig and go out exploring.
By Tuesday, the day of Lady Beverley’s evening party, Charity was longing for company and an evening of pleasure and entertainment, but those thoughts were driven from her mind when Betty came in with her morning hot chocolate. One look at the maid’s flushed cheeks and heavy eyes was enough to have Charity scrambling out of bed and ordering her to go and lie down immediately.
‘Aye, that I will, Miss Charity, just as soon as—’
‘As soon as nothing,’ said Charity firmly, taking the cup from her hands. ‘You will go to bed this minute and I shall bring you a soothing tisane to help you sleep. No, do not argue with me, if you please. You will recover very much quicker if you do as I say.’
She shooed her maid away and put on her wrap. Thankfully Thomas, her manservant, had kept the fire burning in the kitchen, so it did not take her long to boil a little water to steep the mixture of elderflower, peppermint and yarrow that she had found in Betty’s herb store.
Looking after her maid and keeping house filled Charity’s day, but come the evening the novelty of it all was wearing thin and she was looking forward to spending the evening with Sir Mark and Lady Beverley. She changed her homely woollen gown and apron for her cotton-lined taffeta. The deep, rich red of her gown would stand out amongst the cream and white muslins that were so very fashionable, but it had the advantage of buttoning down the front, which made it much easier for her to get on without Betty’s help. She put up her hair and took out the garnet parure that matched her gown. The set comprised a necklace, earrings and a jewelled pin that she fixed amongst her golden curls.
Charity regarded herself in the mirror. Was it too grandiose for a country soirée? Perhaps. A mischievous smile tugged at her lips. She was an actress and a little ostentation was expected of her. Satisfied that she would not disappoint, she put on her pattens, wrapped herself in her fur-lined travelling cloak and set off the short distance to Beverley House.
Sir Mark and Lady Beverley lived in a fine new town house overlooking the market square. It was only five minutes’ walk away, but Charity was thankful to reach her destination. A thin covering of snow glittered in the light from the streetlamps and an icy wind was blowing, so cold it burned her cheeks. A glance in a mirror in the hall of Beverley House relieved her mind of its biggest fear, that her nose might be glowing to rival the stones of her parure.
She was glad she had come. The welcome was warm and she found herself in good company—her hostess had invited those friends from the theatre who had remained in Allingford, as well as a number of local writers and artists. If Charity noticed that a certain dark, taciturn gentleman was not present, she gave no sign and managed
‘Then I shall do my best to attend, ma’am.’
Laughing, Charity took her leave and went off to find her maid. She half expected Ross to offer to escort her home and knew a moment’s disappointment when he did not come after her.
All the better for you, my girl, she told herself crossly. That gentleman is taking up far too much of your thoughts!
* * *
The weather had remained cold, but now it took an icy turn and Charity was glad to stay indoors, although not for long. It took her no more than a couple days to catch up on her correspondence and to set the little house in order, and after that she began to miss her usual busy schedule. With the theatre closed and rehearsals for The Clandestine Marriage not yet started, Hywel and Will Stamp had gone off to enjoy a little hunting in the West Riding, and many of the other actors had taken the opportunity to visit family or friends. Charity would not have minded being alone in Allingford, had not a fall of snow on the icy roads made it too treacherous to hire the gig and go out exploring.
By Tuesday, the day of Lady Beverley’s evening party, Charity was longing for company and an evening of pleasure and entertainment, but those thoughts were driven from her mind when Betty came in with her morning hot chocolate. One look at the maid’s flushed cheeks and heavy eyes was enough to have Charity scrambling out of bed and ordering her to go and lie down immediately.
‘Aye, that I will, Miss Charity, just as soon as—’
‘As soon as nothing,’ said Charity firmly, taking the cup from her hands. ‘You will go to bed this minute and I shall bring you a soothing tisane to help you sleep. No, do not argue with me, if you please. You will recover very much quicker if you do as I say.’
She shooed her maid away and put on her wrap. Thankfully Thomas, her manservant, had kept the fire burning in the kitchen, so it did not take her long to boil a little water to steep the mixture of elderflower, peppermint and yarrow that she had found in Betty’s herb store.
Looking after her maid and keeping house filled Charity’s day, but come the evening the novelty of it all was wearing thin and she was looking forward to spending the evening with Sir Mark and Lady Beverley. She changed her homely woollen gown and apron for her cotton-lined taffeta. The deep, rich red of her gown would stand out amongst the cream and white muslins that were so very fashionable, but it had the advantage of buttoning down the front, which made it much easier for her to get on without Betty’s help. She put up her hair and took out the garnet parure that matched her gown. The set comprised a necklace, earrings and a jewelled pin that she fixed amongst her golden curls.
Charity regarded herself in the mirror. Was it too grandiose for a country soirée? Perhaps. A mischievous smile tugged at her lips. She was an actress and a little ostentation was expected of her. Satisfied that she would not disappoint, she put on her pattens, wrapped herself in her fur-lined travelling cloak and set off the short distance to Beverley House.
Sir Mark and Lady Beverley lived in a fine new town house overlooking the market square. It was only five minutes’ walk away, but Charity was thankful to reach her destination. A thin covering of snow glittered in the light from the streetlamps and an icy wind was blowing, so cold it burned her cheeks. A glance in a mirror in the hall of Beverley House relieved her mind of its biggest fear, that her nose might be glowing to rival the stones of her parure.
She was glad she had come. The welcome was warm and she found herself in good company—her hostess had invited those friends from the theatre who had remained in Allingford, as well as a number of local writers and artists. If Charity noticed that a certain dark, taciturn gentleman was not present, she gave no sign and managed
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