The Angel and the Rake Read online

  It was only a quick glimpse and then Angela heard a man singing in a deep baritone.

  Trevor led her on without speaking.

  He opened the door of the stage box where there were three people, one of them was George Edwardes.

  Again without speaking, he indicated to Angela a seat at the back of the box behind the others where she could see the stage perfectly.

  The man singing was wearing evening clothes with a top hat and carrying a cane.

  His song was vaguely familiar to her, but she had no idea that it was one that had swept London and was whistled every day by errand boys.

  She thought only that it was tuneful and the singer had a delightful voice.

  Next she realised that Trevor had left her and thought that he had gone to find Nelly and collect her clothes.

  The singer went off the stage amid a roar of applause and he took half-a-dozen curtain calls before the lights went down.

  Then, almost immediately, the curtain rose once again.

  Although Angela knew very little about the theatre, she guessed that this was the Grande Finale.

  There was a flight of stairs at the back of the stage.

  Grouped around it were the chorus girls, all wearing gowns that glittered and glimmered in the lights. It was certainly very spectacular.

  Then down the staircase came the stars, one by one and each in turn received a great roar of applause.

  Then the Gaiety Girls came down three at a time, all exquisitely dressed.

  The whole theatre clapped and shouted until it was impossible to hear the orchestra.

  Then extravagant bouquets were carried onto the stage and a great many were flung from the audience.

  It was a fabulous spectacle that Angela could never have imagined in her wildest dreams.

  The enthusiasm and excitement seemed to affect the performers as much as those who watched them.

  They curtseyed, smiled, bowed and waved exuberantly.

  At last the orchestra struck up the National Anthem and all the audience rose from their seats.

  Everyone sang God Save the Queen with gusto, which Angela found very moving and she felt the tears come into her eyes.

  Then the door of the box opened and Trevor came to her side.

  He did not speak, he merely took her hand and pulled her to her feet.

  She wanted to ask if she could stay a little longer to see what would happen next.

  But he pulled her out into the passage and closed the door.

  “Hurry,” he said, “and keep your head down. I don’t want us to be delayed by the ‘stage door Johnnies’.”

  Angela did not know what he meant.

  Suddenly she saw, standing inside the door where the porter’s box was, at least a dozen young men.

  They were wearing evening clothes and carrying top hats and canes.

  In fact they looked just like the man who had been singing on the stage.

  Briskly Trevor moved through them, pushing them to one side in his effort to make way for Angela.

  One of the young men was about to expostulate with him and then he saw Angela and stared at her in amazement as he swept off his hat.

  “Good evening, beautiful lady ‒ ” he started.

  Angela, however, had no chance of answering as Trevor held her tightly by the arm.

  He pulled her out through the stage door, fighting his way through the crowd to where the carriage was waiting for them.

  He helped Angela into it and told the cabby to drive to Paddington Station.

  As they drove away from the theatre, Trevor gave a sigh of relief.

  “I hope you are satisfied,” he said slightly mockingly.

  “Oh, thank you, thank you, Trevor!” Angela answered. “It was wonderful. I only wish I could have seen more.”

  “‘Enough is as good as a feast’!” Trevor remarked. “And I have no wish for you to be ogled by all those hang-abouts.”

  “They looked very smart,” Angela said. “I suppose they can afford to give big parties at Romano’s and the other places you have talked about.”

  ‘They can afford it, right enough,” he said bitterly, “while I have to wait for invitations, as I am unable to pay for myself.”

  Angela slipped her arm through his.

  “I know it is difficult, dearest,” she said, “but now we do have some money to repair The Priory. And you remember how happy Papa and Mama were there.”

  ‘They did not have to worry about money,” Trevor argued. ‘They could afford to have decent horses and, you remember, we used to have a shoot as well in those days.”

  “Yes, I know,” Angela replied, “but I feel that it will all happen again and we just need to have a little patience.”

  “That is the only thing that does not cost any money,” Trevor parried.

  Angela gave a cry.

  “What about the cheque? You did say you would send it to the Bank.”

  “I did not forget,” Trevor answered her, “and I have put it on my dressing table with full instructions for Atkins to post it first thing tomorrow morning.”

  Angela gave a cry of relief.

  “That was good of you. I was so afraid that you might lose it or it is stolen.”

  “I am not as foolish as that,” Trevor answered, “and I suggest you make the most of your visit to the Marquis’s house, because it is somewhere you will never go to again.”

  “Supposing, just supposing,” Angela murmured, “that the Marquis should invite me for a second time?”

  Trevor sat upright.

  “Now, listen, Angela,” he said. “You are doing this so that we can save The Priory from becoming any more dilapidated than it is at present. But you must realise that it is something that Mama would have violently disapproved of and indeed so would all our relatives.”

  He went on more forcefully,

  “The moment your part is finished, you must disappear as if you had never existed or had gone back to Heaven! No one and I mean no one, who is at the Marquis’s house, must ever hear of you again.”

  Trevor spoke so positively that Angela knew that he meant every word of it.

  She did not answer him because she was thinking that it really would be a question of a Cinderella.

  Her beautiful clothes would disappear at midnight and she would be left in only her rags.

  “We should not be doing this,” Trevor went on when she did not speak. “It is worrying me to death when I see the effect that you have on people like Lord Grentham and I shall be on tenterhooks the whole time we are at Vaux.”

  “Don’t worry,” Angela said. “I feel, perhaps because we are both so desperate, that Papa and Mama are helping us by thinking up ways that we can make some money. All the same it is a very exciting adventure for me.”

  She looked up at her brother and pleaded,

  “Please, don’t spoil it for even if I have to go back to the country and never again come to London, it will be something unique for me to remember.”

  She stopped and then continued,

  “In fact I shall never forget my glimpse of The Gaiety and just how beautiful the Gaiety Girls looked as they walked down the stairs.”

  Unexpectedly Trevor bent and kissed his sister on the cheek.

  “Poor little Angela,” he said. “You are very sensible and very brave and I am very proud of you. It may be hard, but we will win this race if it is the last thing we do!”

  “Of course we will,” Angela said confidently, “and when we do look back on it, we will think how clever we have been.”

  The nearer they got to Paddington Station, the more Angela was aware of how nervous her brother was.

  They climbed out of the cab and Angela saw for the first time the luggage, which Trevor had collected for her from The Gaiety.

  There were three large trunks of it and what she had not expected, two hat boxes.

  It required two porters to transport it from the Hackney carriage.

  The Marquis’s p
rivate Coach was waiting, attached to a train at a side platform.

  Angela had never seen or been in a private Coach before, but she was most impressed by its appearance.

  It was painted red and white and looked, she felt, somewhat theatrical with the Marquis’s crest emblazoned on the doors.

  There were Stewards wearing the Marquis’s Livery who greeted Trevor warmly.

  “Good evenin’, Sir Trevor,” one of them welcomed him. “You’re early, but everythin’s in readiness.”

  “There is rather a lot of luggage,” Trevor replied. “Are we the first?”

  “Yes, Sir Trevor, but I expect the rest of ’is Lordship’s guests’ll be arrivin’ within the next fifteen minutes.”

  Trevor escorted Angela to the train.

  She was thrilled by what was known as the ‘drawing room’.

  It was furnished with sofas and armchairs covered in red damask and there were pictures on the walls and curtains at the windows.

  Because she was obviously interested, one of the Stewards showed her the small kitchen and pantry.

  There was also a bedroom with washing facilities at the other end of the coach and so it could be used by those ladies travelling in the drawing room.

  When she joined Trevor again, she remarked,

  “I wish we were grand enough to have a coach of our own. I believe it is one like this that Queen Victoria uses when she travels to France.”

  “I can see you are getting ideas above your station,” Trevor teased her.

  As he spoke, other guests began to arrive.

  At first came two men whom Trevor knew and who, he told Angela, were experienced horsemen.

  “I am hoping we can ride tomorrow on his Lordship’s Racecourse,” one of them said.

  “Is there a private Racecourse at Vaux?” Angela could not help asking.

  “There is and it is an exact replica of the course at Newmarket,” the gentleman replied. “The Marquis tries out all his horses himself before he enters them for a race.”

  “That sounds very sensible,” Angela smiled.

  “It sounds as if you are keen on racing,” he replied, “and, by the way, it seems very rude, but I did not catch your name when we were introduced.”

  “I don’t think that Sir Trevor said it very clearly,” Angela answered, “but it is actually ‘Angela’.”

  “Is that all?”

  “I am going to Vaux to be an angel in the Marquis’s play, so that is my name and it is easy to remember.”

  “It would be impossible for anyone to forget you!” the gentleman responded gallantly.

  As Angela looked at Trevor, she saw that he was frowning.

  She, therefore, did not talk, but lapsed into an awkward silence.

  The rest of the party began to arrive.

  The five girls from The Gaiety were exactly what Angela expected and they seemed to her to be even more beautiful off-stage than they were on.

  She recognised two of them, as she had seen them coming down the staircase.

  They were dressed even more elegantly than she was in gowns of silk that rustled when they moved.

  There were feathers in their hats and the diamonds in their ears and round their necks and wrists glistened.

  Two of the girls were wearing evening dress and explained that they had not had time to change.

  They looked elegant in chiffon glittering with diamanté and wearing velvet wraps edged with sable.

  Angela suspected, therefore, that they wished to look outstanding.

  The five gentlemen who had arrived with them were very handsome and were obviously close friends.

  As soon as everybody was aboard, there was the sound of the guard blowing his whistle and the train steamed out of Paddington Station.

  The Marquis’s guests were then served with champagne and a delicious supper.

  There were so many delightful things to eat that Angela was sorry that she had already had dinner with Trevor.

  She noticed that everybody not only ate but also drank a great deal.

  The laughter grew louder and the voices seemed to become higher with every mile they travelled.

  Trevor was quiet, as if he did not want to draw attention to himself and Angela.

  But she heard one man saying to him,

  “Have you seen our host’s new stallions?”

  “No, not yet,” Trevor answered him.

  “They are fantastic,” his friend remarked. “With Arabian blood in them, I bet they will beat every horse he owns now.”

  Angela thought that this revelation sounded amazingly exciting, as she meant to go to the Marquis’s stables at the first opportunity.

  The journey took only an hour by train from London.

  When they then stopped at the Halt nearest to the Marquis’s seat, there were six carriages waiting to take them to Vaux, also two brakes for their luggage and the servants.

  Trevor put Angela into the third carriage and they were joined by two of the gentlemen.

  There were stars in the sky and a half moon was rising up behind tall trees.

  Angela wanted to look out of the window to see the countryside.

  The gentlemen who sat opposite, however, persisted in talking to her. They then paid her extravagant compliments which she was sure would annoy Trevor.

  Because she had no wish to upset him, she talked as little as possible.

  At the same time she was aware that in the light of the lantern inside the carriage the gentlemen seldom took their eyes off her face.

  They arrived at Vaux.

  Angela first saw the long rows of steps to the front door surmounted on either side by heraldic crests in stone.

  It was then she realised that Vaux was going to be even more impressive than she had imagined.

  There was a red carpet that they walked on and what seemed to be an army of servants to meet them.

  The footmen all wore white wigs and their claret-coloured coats were ornamented with gold-crested buttons.

  Ahead of her were the occupants of the first carriage.

  Angela walked into the house and she saw endless Greek statues, magnificent pictures and a finely painted ceiling before the butler led them across the hall.

  There were double doors which were opened by two footmen.

  The butler walked in to announce in stentorian tones,

  “Your guests, my Lord, have arrived from London.”

  Angela had a quick glimpse of the huge crystal chandeliers glittering in the light of the candles that burned brightly in them.

  The room was enormous.

  There seemed to be a crowd at the far end of it and one of them detached himself from the rest to walk towards them.

  Angela knew at once that he was the Marquis.

  He was, in fact, just as she had expected him to be.

  He was tall and broad-shouldered and there was something rather athletic about the way he walked.

  He was also, without any exception, the most handsome man she had ever seen.

  Yet, as he came nearer, she saw that, while he was smiling, there was somehow a cynical expression in his eyes.

  While he welcomed his guests he was, in some way that she could not explain to herself, at the same time contemptuous of them.

  He held out his hand to the men and the five Gaiety Girls who had entered the room first.

  Then he turned to Trevor,

  “Good evening, Brooke. It is good to see you here again.”

  His eyes had swept over the Gaiety Girls until, as he was speaking to Trevor, he saw who was standing beside him.

  For a moment he just stared.

  Quickly Trevor said,

  “I have a message for you, my Lord, from George Edwardes.”

  “A message?” the Marquis questioned as if he was hardly listening.

  “He was extremely perturbed to learn last night that Lucy is very ill.”

  Now there was no doubt that Trevor had the Marquis’s attention.

&nb
sp; “Lucy is ill?” he repeated slowly.

  “She was far worse this morning,” Trevor went on, “and George Edwardes has therefore sent you a substitute in the shape of Angela to whom we are most grateful for accepting the invitation at the last minute.”

  The Marquis was staring at Angela.

  As if the rest of the party was aware that something dramatic was taking place, they were silent.

  For the moment no one who had just entered the room moved.

  Angela looked up at the Marquis.

  He could see her face very clearly in the light from the chandeliers.

  There was more silence. It was only for a few seconds and yet to Angela it seemed as if it lasted for a long time.

  Then the Marquis held out his hand.

  “Thank you,” he said, “I am more grateful than I can possibly say that you should agree to come to save the play that I have planned for everybody to see tomorrow night.”

  Angela put her hand into the Marquis’s and curtseyed.

  She then felt his fingers tighten on hers.

  She knew that, as Trevor would have said it that they had taken the second fence ‘in style’.

  Chapter Four

  As the party drank more and more champagne, the laughter and noise increased.

  The Marquis walked across to where Trevor was sitting beside Angela.

  “I want, Brooke,” he began, “for you to see my new stallions.”

  “I am looking forward to it, my Lord,” Trevor replied.

  The Marquis was just about to say something else when the door opened and the butler announced,

  “Miss Sadie Vandebilt, my Lord!”

  The Marquis looked up in astonishment.

  Into the drawing room came a beautiful young girl, exceedingly well-dressed and with a self-assurance that was very American.

  Seeing the Marquis, she ran towards him.

  “Here I am, Cousin Shaun. I gather you were not expecting me.”

  “Indeed I was not,” the Marquis replied. “What has happened?”

  “I wrote to you from America, saying that I must come to England to buy some horses for Papa and there was no time for you to reply, but I was so sure that you would receive my letter.”

  “It never arrived,” the Marquis answered.

  “I learned that was so when I found that there was no carriage waiting for me in London and I went to your house hoping that I might find you there.”