Page 64

DESIRE AND PERIL

Angelica went to be bed early, desperate for sleep, and quickly sank into oblivion. In the early hours she awoke with a creeping uneasiness at the shift in the very foundations of her life. Everything was changing. She lay in the dim light, gazing at barely visible trails of jasmine and flickering dabs of colour from the tiny birds’ wings on the chinoiserie wallpaper she loved so well. To her dismay her unruly heart ached not for a father or Lord Latimer but for an austere man who she feared had given up on the anarchy of love. Her mind retraced the previous night and the dawning of desire as she waltzed in Ivor Asprey’s arms and she shuddered with the shame of what had then followed, altering her prospects of happiness for ever.

Angelica recoiled from the memory of the necklace she had worn with such ignorance and pride. Well, that pride had been truly punished. Once again she was that disregarded child in the cold room above the gold trader’s in Rupert Street, and she curled into a ball, her hands tight round her knees. Her confidence and naturally vivid nature could be undermined too easily by the ghosts of the past and she had to struggle sometimes to leave the memories behind.

Mary entered with a bowl of hot chocolate which she placed on the table by the bed. She drew the curtains back on a grey day, washed with rain. ‘Miss Angelica, you asked me to wake you at eight. I hope you slept well.’

Angelica stretched her limbs and yawned. She had to put on a good show as usual. ‘Good morning, Mary. I feel almost restored.’ She smiled. ‘Although I’m not looking forward to rehearsals this afternoon. Have you read the play?’

‘I have. Bird-witted part for you. Both women are sorry hussies, I agree, but ’twill be a success I’m sure, though that shrimp, Mr Kean, has turned down the Marquis of Alamanza.’

‘Ah, it’ll be the corpulent Mr Egerton instead. At least the young Count I’m meant to love will be played by Mr Jones, an altogether more amusing type.’ Angelica climbed out of bed and mustered her spirits to meet the new day.

Awaiting her at breakfast was a note in a large looping hand in violet ink which Angelica immediately recognised as from Elinor Asprey. Sitting with a cup of coffee she read,

Dear Miss Leigh,

I have some Important News to impart.

Here she had underlined the words and drawn a blue dove with a pink message in its beak. And a ghost of a red heart with an arrow. Angelica smiled as she sipped her coffee. The handwriting continued.

Miss Stafford is taking me to see Mr Barker’s Panorama in Leicester Square this morning. If it Suits you she can Leave me with You for an Hour at 11 while she visits Hookham’s.

Please Say Yes.

This was underlined twice.

I also want to hear about the Ball.

Your Elinor Asprey

She had obviously been practising her Elizabethan signature as the curlicues under her name had become even more elaborate than in the last message.

Angelica walked to the door and called Martin who drifted towards her from the back of the house. ‘Is that young chit visiting us again?’ he enquired, unconcerned at such unseemly overfamiliarity.

Angelica knew he had been charmed by the child when she last visited and laughed. ‘Indeed it is her. I suppose that handwriting is rather distinctive.’

‘As is the cascade of yellow stars she’d inscribed on the back.’

‘Could you get this message round to the Asprey house in St James’s Square?’ Angelica took up a piece of writing paper from the drawer in the hall table and wrote, Yes, indeed in her own distinctive hand, folding it and adding Miss Asprey’s name and address to the front.

She walked through to the library to pick up her script and study again her first entry onto the stage in Act II, the innocent ‘Child’ about to be introduced to a wider world than the benign imprisonment to which she had been subject. After a couple of hours there was a knock on the door and Martin announced the arrival of Miss Stafford and her pupil.

Elinor Asprey looked up at Angelica. ‘Miss Leigh! Your face, what happened?’

‘I just came off a horse, but it’s healing fast. I’m surprised you noticed.’ She took the girl’s hand and came forward to take Miss Stafford’s. ‘I trust the Panorama lived up to its advertisements?’

‘It was like magic, I thought I was flying like a bird over London.’ Elinor jumped up and down with excitement.

Miss Stafford smiled. ‘I have seen it before and it is very much worth the shilling entry. I recommend it, Miss Leigh. I have also promised Elinor that Mr Digby and I will bring her to see your performance when The Child of Nature opens.’

‘I don’t think any freethinking radical could possibly approve of it. But I hope you will be able to disabuse Miss Elinor of its pernicious moral!’ Both women gave a conspiratorial chuckle as the girl looked from one face to the other.

Miss Stafford turned to go. ‘I’ll be back by noon if that suits you, Miss Leigh?’ Angelica walked with her to the door then returned to the library where Elinor’s head was bent over her script.

The girl looked up. ‘I wanted to see what made you and Miss Stafford laugh about me.’

‘It’s not about you, it was about what a ninny the young woman is whom I have to portray on stage. But much more important: what is your news?’