AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Chapter 1
Through the window of herhackney carriage, Lavinia Fernley caught sight of the boisterous crowd that had gathered once again in front of London’s Orpheus Theatre. It was becoming a common occurrence these days: the curious onlookers, the young Corinthians and old roués who were her most ardent admirers, and the small congregation of people off to one side, holding hands and singing hymns.
Today she’d worn a pale-pink muslin adorned with yards of delicate lace and a matching pelisse and fashionably tiny bonnet. The pink should have clashed horribly with her signature red locks but, instead, made for quite a dramatic picture, and the late afternoon sun would set her hair ablaze, she knew.
This would be the last time any of these people saw Ruby Chadwick, The Darling of Drury Lane, and like any good actor, Lavinia intended to give them a truly memorable performance.
The hackney driver, aware he’d had the privilege of escorting a celebrated personage to the theatre, adapted perfectly to his role. He jumped from his seat, made a show of straightening his dirty neckcloth, opened the carriage door, and dropped the steps. The crowd took a collective breath.
Oh, but she would make them wait and allow the suspense to build.
She stretched one gloved hand out the doorway and laid it on the driver’s arm and then allowed a single foot, clad in soft kid leather, to extend from beneath her petticoats to the step.
“Ahh,” a few of the onlookers sighed.
The group singing hymns sang louder.
When she finally emerged on the top step of the hackney, she looked over the crowd, making sure to give eye contact to as many of them as possible, then turned her gaze to her now-smitten hackney driver and offered him a beatific smile. All watched, mesmerized, as she glided down the steps, nodded her thanks to the driver, and raised her parasol.
“It’s her,” someone whispered. “It’s Ruby Chadwick!” The name rippled through the crowd, creating a groundswell of both awe and derision.
“Ruby, Ruby Chadwick. The Darling of Drury Lane.”
“The actress who wears men’s clothes and shows her legs on stage.”
“The incomparable beauty.”
“The trollop.”
Ah, yes. She’d heard it all before, and she was hearing it all again today.
She took her time making her way through the crowd, which parted before her like the Red Sea before Moses. When she successfully reached the theatre door, she turned to face her audience. Smiling demurely to admirers and haters alike, she lowered her parasol and raised her chin ever so slightly. “Thank you all for coming today,” she said in a low voice, expertly pitched to carry over the crowd. “You have blessed me more than you can ever know.”
They had made her a fair amount of money, in fact.
At the age of twenty-four, Lavinia Fernley, known by her stage name as Ruby Chadwick, had accomplished something most young ladies her age had not: in the three short years since she’d arrived in London, she had managed to become both a popular success and financially independent. Oh, there were plenty of young misses in London and elsewhere much wealthier than she, to be sure. Lavinia saw many of them in the audience of the theatre each night, but they undoubtedly had received their fortunes from their papas, not by using their own wits, as she herself had done.
She could hear the theatre door being unlocked behind her, right on cue. She raised a hand in farewell to the crowd and stepped through the now-open door only to have it lock behind her again.
Act 1, scene 1, and exit.
“Well, Ruby,” Alfred Hinchcliffe, owner of the Orpheus Theatre, said as he pocketed the keys to the door. “Once again, your many admirers have shown their devotion to The Darling of Drury Lane.” He rubbed his hands together in avaricious glee. “It’s always a good sign when the crowds gather, especially so large a crowd this late in the Season. Means money in the coffers. Ticket sales are still going strong.”
“Speaking of which, Alfred, darling, you do remember you still owe me for last week’s receipts,” she said sweetly. “I keep a close account of things, you know.”
“That I do, Ruby dear; that I do,” Hinchcliffe said. “Never met a better businessman than you, if you’ll pardon my expressing it in such a way to a member of the fairer sex.”
Alfred Hinchcliffe was as tightfisted a theater owner as there was, and she’d met many theater owners over the years, but he was always ingratiating with her since they both knew she was his golden goose. Lavinia patted his arm reassuringly. “We females do have our expenses. I would be happy as a lark if you were to bring me my share of the last week’s receipts. Perhaps you can save time and bring me my estimated share of this evening’s receipts as well.” She leaned in and gave him a peck on the cheek, then went in for the kill. “I shouldsohate to fall ill with worry before tonight’s performance after waiting on edge all week for my earnings—you know what a sensitive nature I have,” she whispered.
“This evening’s too, Ruby? You aren’t aiming to ditch me and run, are you?” He chuckled at his little joke.
Lavinia raised a delicate eyebrow.
“Fine, then.” He sighed. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“You really are a dear man, Alfred. You’resogood to me.” Maintaining her smile, barely daring to breathe, she watched him lumber toward his office, where he kept the safe that held the theatre’s revenue, and disappear inside. For three long years, she’d watched him like a hawk and used her wiles to make sure he didn’t cheat her out of her agreed-upon share of the receipts. Alfred was no fool—the crowds showed up to see the sensation that was Ruby Chadwick, and he knew it. He was no better and no worse than any of the men she’d encountered in her twenty-four years—as far as Lavinia was concerned, they were all greedy and unprincipled, to a man.
Act 1, scene 2 was over.
