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So now she was here, on the inside for the very first time once they were led from the tradesmen’s entrance through a catacomb of corridors to a series of anterooms near the ballroom.
Her eyes felt like they were on stalks. Of course, the back stairs and corridors were dull and utilitarian, but once they were within range of the ballroom, soft carpet covered the floors, rich draperies swathed the windows, paintings and elegant silver candle sconces adorned the walls.
And then here was the ballroom itself, richly decorated with enormous epergnes of flowers and foliage in preparation of tonight’s grand ball which the play would precede.
A makeshift stage had been erected at the end of a large antechamber which directly adjoined the ballroom. Rows of chairs had been set out in front of the dais where the play was to be performed, while a long refectory table, presumably to hold the evening’s supper, lined one wall.
“Lawks,” Jennie whispered under her breath as she ran her hand over the fresh upholstery of one of the seats, “it’s real velvet.”
Kitty knew this, of course, just as she knew the layout of the reception rooms. On several occasions, she’d watched from the branches of a beech tree the arrival of the guests who’d spilled out of carriages in front of the portico before they’d been ushered into the house. Whenever she got the opportunity, she’d trespassed onto the grounds taking a detour back from one of her errands, and while she knew she’d have been horsewhipped if she’d been discovered, not all the ghosts of Hades could have frightened her away from such sights. There were ladies wearing their finest attire: opera capes over gossamer gowns, feather-bedecked headwear, and the men handsomely garbed in the finest fitting evening wear.
These sights had stayed with her, and tonight the same would happen. She was determined to get a bird’s-eye view of gue
sts arriving for this evening’s entertainment from within the precincts of The Grange. Guests arriving to see her—Kitty La Bijou, London’s most celebrated actress—as much as to pay tribute to the evening’s guest of honor, Lady Debenham. Her half-sister.
Not that anyone would know this.
The actors had been strictly instructed to keep a low profile and not to venture away from the small withdrawing room which now served as their costume and prop room just off the stage.
Most were obediently rehearsing their lines or reapplying their makeup in the designated confined space. They were too overawed by their surroundings and the officious butler to do anything but obey. But Kitty was confident she knew her way around this house. She intended to slip away and hide herself just so she could catch a glimpse of the grandeur and pomp that accompanied new arrivals.
So, as she left Mr. Lazarus intoning a monologue and Jennie practising a flirtatious exchange with one of the peasants in scene two, Kitty withdrew into the darkened corridor. No one observed her go, and as she hurried down several twisting passages, her heart pounded with the thrill of her wicked truancy. Not that it should have been truancy. If her father had been a noble and honorable man who’d kept his promise to his first true love and fiancée, then Kitty would have known these corridors like the back of her hand, as the young lady of the house.
To her delight, she now found herself at the foot of a narrow, steep flight of stairs that led, she was sure, to the observatory tower. What a thrill it would be to see the sun dipping over the horizon from her secret vantage point as she watched the first guests arrive. She only wanted to see one carriage stop and disgorge its beautifully dressed occupants, and then she’d return to Mr. Lazarus.
Sure enough, it was only a minute before she saw in the far distance a small plume of dust that heralded the arrival of a carriage coming from the north. Kitty peered through the dense ivy to see the butler arrange himself in a properly respectful manner to greet the new arrivals. And then she heard the familiar tones of her half-sister, Lady Debenham, as she remarked to her companion who’d followed her out—handsome Lord Ludbridge—“Goodness, this is one little reunion I’m very desirous to witness. My lord, we must fetch Silverton.” Her voice was swallowed up as she hurried inside and Kitty, who’d been on the verge of turning back to return to her fellow artistes for fear of discovery, stood rooted to the spot, clutching the railing in churning excitement, horror and fear.
Silverton was here? How long had that been his intention? Why had he not written and told her?
She felt ill as the view fragmented before her. Perhaps he’d not wanted to upset Kitty if he’d unexpectedly accepted an invitation to break his journey at The Grange.
And what was this about the reunion Araminta was so desirous of witnessing?
The truth roared into her head. Silverton was about to meet his intended bride here?
For a moment, she truly thought she was about to faint. Why had he not told her?
Of course, self-preservation urged Kitty to stick to her vantage point. Seeing the imminent encounter could only break her heart, but yet, how could she pass up the opportunity to see how Silverton greeted the woman he would soon make his wife?
The soft crunch of gravel beneath the newly arriving carriage whispered soothingly in her ears while her heart screamed in pain. Go! Of course she should go, not be caught eavesdropping like some voyeur. She dropped one hand from the railing, and half turned as the carriage door was opened by one of the footmen who’d been standing by in readiness.
Yes, she should go now!
She took a reluctant step away, ready to descend her own set of stairs and return to the catacombs of corridors that would lead her back to the antechamber by the ballroom. Mr. Lazarus would be highly distressed to find his leading lady absent at such a crucial time, though, of course, the play was not to be held for some time if visitors were still arriving. The actors had been requested to be in attendance for a start time of anywhere from seven to eight o’ clock.
She heard the solicitous voices below her inquiring after the comfort of the first occupant to emerge.
Of course she could not turn away now. With equal reluctance and horrified fascination, she leaned once more over the battlement.
A large waving feather atop a purple velvet toque proclaimed the arrival of someone of great elegance in her dotage. An old woman in a travelling pelisse of brown velvet adorned with heavy roulettes at the hem straightened as she stepped onto the gravel, closing her eyes as she raised her head to the sun.
Kitty ducked at the moment recognition send shock through her. Her breath caught and her knees went weak as her hands grasped at the rough stone wall. Dear Lord, it was old tartar to whom she’d given an eccles tart earlier that day.
Self preservation spurred her to flee but then came the words she knew she ought not stay to hear. Indeed, she wished she’d been far away and so had never heard them: “My dear Miss Mandelton! I’ve been so eager to meet you!”
Trying to recover her breathing, Kitty recognized Araminta’s crooning tones. Araminta had arranged this meeting, she realised. She must have known Miss Mandelton was making her progress from the north and, curious to see the kind of wife handsome Lord Silverton would choose, had invited them both to her birthday house party.
A great sob rose in her throat. This was too painful. She must go now. Kitty shouldn’t watch this. She’d thought she’d persuaded herself that it didn’t matter Silverton was succumbing to duty and taking a wife who’d bear his legitimate children. That she could bear anything as long as he reserved his heart for her. For that was what mattered. Love. Love was, above all, her sole reason for existence. It was what gave her life meaning. She’d not had a particularly loving mother or father. Nash had been her initiation into feeling someone in life appreciated her. The frenzied beating of her innocent heart had been unlike anything she’d ever experienced, and she’d assumed, would be sustained forever. She’d thought she would marry him, but by the time he’d asked her, he’d cheated on her and destroyed her trust.
