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‘You will have noticed that it is one of the best of the non-Patent theatres and that the manager, Mr Hurst, has been improving it.’
‘The gas lighting, yes.’
‘I wish to invest in it.’ She sat back and tried to look calm, as though she had asked if she should buy government bonds, or some rental property in a good area. Her fingers hurt; she found they were knotted into her napkin. Maude frowned at them and made herself relax.
‘In gas lighting? I believe that could well be the coming thing.’ He lifted the newspaper. ‘There are some companies advertising here, in fact—’
‘In the Unicorn, Papa.’ Time for complete frankness. Almost. ‘I wish to invest a sum in the theatre and to take an interest in its overall policy. I find it most interesting.’
‘The theatre? But, Maude, that is not at all a respectable world, not on that side of the curtain. It is inhabited by the demi-monde and frequented by gentlemen who are not there because of their interest in the dramatic arts—I am sure I need not say more. For a woman to be connected with the stage is to court ruin. It is quite out of the question.’
‘I do not want to appear on the stage, Papa,’ Maude said. ‘That would be a scandal indeed—think how bad my acting is! And I most certainly do not want to be behind the scenes when the gentlemen come calling in the evening. I can quite see what a risk that would be.’
He was frowning at her, bless him. He did try so hard to let her be herself. Maude knew she was indulged, far beyond what most single young women of her background were. And she knew too that her position meant that what would be condemned as outrageously fast if done by, say, the daughter of an obscure baronet, could be carried off with dash by the daughter of an earl.
‘What about your charity work?’ Lord Pangbourne asked. ‘Are Lady Belinda’s wounded soldiers no longer absorbing your time?’
‘Of course, I have a committee meeting this afternoon. But it is hardly a full-time occupation, Papa.’
‘And the Season will soon be in full swing,’ he pointed out.
‘Yes. And neither is that all consuming, at least, not during the day. I like to be busy, Papa, and to use my brain.’
‘I would like it if you just stood still long enough for a nice young man to catch you,’ Lord Pangbourne said with a sigh. ‘I suppose you want me to say that Benson should call on this manager chap—Hurst, is it?—and suggest a basis for your investment.’
‘Yes, Mr Hurst. But I have already called upon him and proposed my scheme.’
His lordship choked on his coffee and put his cup down with enough force to rattle the saucer. ‘Called on him? My God, Maude, of all the shocking—’
‘I took my maid, Papa, and called at the theatre in the morning, not at his home, naturally.’Maude knew she couldn’t act, but she felt fairly confident in her expression of outrage.
‘It is still most unwise. The man is not a gentleman. And the theatre of all places!’
‘Well, his behaviour was most gentleman-like,’ she asserted. ‘I felt quite comfortable. I was served tea and waited upon by a maid.’ That was doubtless stretching the description of the lass who was probably the general dogsbody. ‘And everyone there was behaving most decorously.’ If one disregarded Mr Gates’s indiscretions, of course. ‘Would you meet Mr Hurst and judge for yourself? I thought perhaps we could invite him to our box in the interval on Monday. You do want to see the revival of How to Tease and How to Please, don’t you, Papa?’
It would allow Papa to judge Eden face to face and it would reassure Eden that she had spoken to her father. He would not take kindly to being summoned to the house to be inspected, she was sure of that, but on his home ground he might be less prickly. She would order champagne with the refreshments and think carefully about who to invite to join the party for the evening. No one who would be shocked by a man wearing a diamond ear stud, that was for sure.
The committee for Lady Dereham’s Charity for the Employment of Soldiers Disabled by the Late War—or Bel’s Battalion, as her husband irreverently referred to it—was somewhat diminished in numbers that afternoon. Bel’s cousin Elinor was on the Continent with Theo Ravenhurst, her new husband; Elinor’s mother Lady James Ravenhurst was studying Romanesque churches and the Grand Duchess Eva de Maubourg, a cousin by marriage, was at home in Maubourg and not expected in London until early March.
Jessica had been welcomed into the committee on her marriage. It was a positive coven of Ravenhurst cousins, her husband Gareth Morant, Earl of Standon—himself a cousin—had joked. Maude would have become a Ravenhurst if her father’s intention to marry her to Gareth had come to pass and she had known most of the family since she was a child.
The Reverend Mr Makepeace, Treasurer, was already seated in Bel’s dining room, fussily arranging his papers on the long mahogany table while assuring Lady Wallace, a lady of a certain age and indefatigable energies, that the money she had extracted from her long-suffering husband had been safely banked. Mr Climpson, Lady Wallace’s solicitor, and legal adviser to the charity, bowed punctiliously to Maude and pulled out a chair for her while Jessica waved gaily from the other side of the room where she was talking to Bel.
The minutes read, and matters arising dealt with, they sat through Mr Makepeace’s interminable report. Maude surfaced from a daydream involving Eden Hurst and herself alone in her box at the Unicorn to discover that the charity was in excellent financial health.
‘In fact, our only problem at the moment appears to be finding other sources of employment for the men on our books,’ Jessica remarked. ‘We have bought three inns now, which employ all those suited for the various roles those offer.’ She scanned the lists in front of her. ‘We have placed sixteen men with various craftsmen and a further twelve in domestic service or stables, but there are still fifteen unsuited and, as you know, more come to us every week, despite the war being over now for almost two years.’
‘What about theatres?’ Maude asked, the idea coming straight out of her daydream. ‘Stage-hands, door-keepers, scene painters, carpenters—there must be many types of work the men would be suitable for.’
‘Excellent,’ Lady Wallace applauded, shushing Mr Makepeace, who started to say something about immorality. ‘What a clever idea, Lady Maude.’
‘But however will we find out what is available?’ Jessica asked, all wide-eyed innocence. ‘Who can we possibly ask?’
‘It just so happens,’ Maude said, attempting to kick her friend under the table and painfully finding the table leg instead, ‘I know someone who might be able to help.’
‘I was going to ask you and Gareth to join me in my box on Monday,’ she said to Jessica as the others departed. ‘And then you could have met Mr Hurst because he is taking champagne with Papa and me during the interval.’ At least, she hoped he was; she hadn’t written to him yet. ‘But if you are going to be so unkind as to tease me, I will ask Bel and Ashe instead.’
‘Ask us what?’ Bel came back into the room and eased herself down on a chair. ‘Oh, my feet! I have been playing with Annabelle all morning and I am quite worn out with that meeting on top of it.’
