The Angel and the Rake Page 9

  She found the Marquis instructing the men, as he had before, on how to erect the jumps for the Steeplechase.

  Because she felt that Lord Grentham was watching her, she went up and stood beside him.

  After a moment or two the Marquis enquired,

  “What is it, Angela? If you have come to ask me if you may ride Saracen, the answer is ‘no’. I intend to ride him myself!”

  “Then you will surely win,” Angela said, “but I came to ask you for something else.”

  “What is it?” he enquired.

  She thought that he was finding her a nuisance and so she said quickly,

  “It does not matter. I will tell you later.”

  She walked away before he could stop her.

  She thought that the mere fact that she had been speaking to him might prevent Lord Grentham approaching her immediately.

  But she was over-optimistic.

  The minute he saw her leave the Marquis, he jumped down from the brake and came to her side.

  “Now that your business with our host is over,” he said, “I would like you to come and look at my horse and tell me if you think he is better than any of the Marquis’s.”

  Because it was so difficult to think of an appropriate excuse on the spur of the moment, Angela allowed him to lead her to where his horse was standing.

  He was being held by a groom and was indeed a very fine stallion.

  Although she wanted to find some kind of fault, it was difficult to do so.

  She patted the horse and Lord Grentham said,

  “If you ask me nicely, I will let you ride any of my horses that you wish. I am sure that you would cause a sensation in Hyde Park.”

  ‘That will be difficult as I am not going to London,” Angela replied.

  Lord Grentham looked at her.

  “What do you mean, you are not going to London?”

  “Exactly what I say. When I leave here, I am going back to the country.”

  “And where is that?”

  “Nowhere that you would know and, quite frankly, I do not encourage visitors.”

  “You are very elusive,” Lord Grentham said. “What is your game? Are you setting your cap at Vauxhall? Because if you are, you are wasting your time.”

  Angela thought that this remark of his was definitely insulting.

  She therefore put her head in the air and walked away.

  She had gone only a few steps before Lord Grentham caught hold of her arm.

  “Now, don’t you dare to leave me,” he said. “I have gone to a great deal of trouble to get myself invited here today just to see you again. I have a suggestion to put to you as to your future, which I think will interest you.”

  “You are wrong,” Angela said coldly. “My future is already planned and therefore there is no point in discussing it.”

  “There is every point,” Lord Grentham responded angrily. “To put it bluntly, Angela, I want you and I intend to have you! And in case no one has told you so, I will inform you that am a very rich man.”

  Angela drew in her breath.

  She had no idea that gentlemen such as Lord Grentham would talk so bluntly to the sort of young woman she was pretending to be.

  She was now wondering where she could run to.

  Then she saw the Marquis walking away from a hedge that he had been inspecting as a possible jump.

  Quickly she shook herself free of Lord Grentham’s grasp and ran towards him.

  He noticed as she reached him that she was looking upset.

  Before she could speak, he asked her,

  “What is the matter? Are you having trouble with Grentham?”

  “He will not – leave me alone,” Angela stammered. “And – he frightens me.”

  The Marquis looked at Lord Grentham, who had stopped walking after Angela.

  Instead he was staring at the Racecourse.

  “I will deal with him,” the Marquis said. “He has always been a nuisance and I have no liking for the man. I will instruct him to leave you alone.”

  “Thank you – thank you,” Angela sighed. “I am – sorry – to be such a bother.”

  The Marquis smiled.

  “It is no bother and I will not have you upset when you have to look like an angel and behave like one.”

  “That is just what I am trying to do but with some difficulties,” Angela answered.

  “This is the last race,” the Marquis said, “and as soon as it is over, we will all go back to the house. If you take my advice, you will go and lie down and rest before the performance.”

  “I will do that,” Angela answered, “and – thank you very much, my Lord.”

  “You can thank me later,” he replied.

  He walked on towards the horses.

  Angela was praying that Lord Grentham would not approach her again now that she was alone.

  Hurriedly she talked to two men who she had been introduced to at luncheon. They were not taking part in the Steeplechase and were quite happy to discuss with her the finer points of the horses that were.

  She managed to stay with them until the race had started.

  It was very exciting and all the horses jumped superbly.

  She was thrilled naturally when Saracen won.

  Then, as soon as the race was over, she climbed back into the brake with the other girls and they drove back to the house.

  As the Marquis had suggested, she went up to her room and Emily her maid brought her a cup of tea.

  “I’ve got your gown ready for tonight, miss,” the maid said, “and ever so pretty it be.”

  Angela had forgotten until then that the Marquis had told her she was having a special gown to wear and would not require one of her own.

  When she saw it, she realised how astute he had been in choosing something that was exactly right for her part.

  It was simple, made of chiffon, and attached to it cleverly so that the bands did not show, were the two wings.

  They were made of swans’ feathers and Angela felt that they were exactly what an angel would wear.

  There was also a small halo of iridescent stones to wear at the back of her head.

  She had been told to be backstage by six-thirty, as the performance was to start a quarter of an hour later.

  Angela started dressing early, just in case at the last minute there was anything wrong with her gown.

  When the halo had been fixed securely, the maid said,

  “Excuse me, miss, for suggestin’ it, but Lady Mary’s bin beggin’ to see you ever since she ’eard that there’s an angel in the play.”

  “Lady Mary?” Angela questioned.

  She wondered if Lady Mary was an elderly relative of the Marquis’s whom she had not met.

  “It’s ’is Lordship’s daughter,” the maid informed her.

  “His daughter?” Angela exclaimed. “I had no idea that the Marquis is married.”

  “’E was, miss, but ’is wife died havin’ a baby. Ever so sad it was. I always thinks as ’ow Lady Mary misses the mother she never knew.”

  “How old is Lady Mary?” Angela enquired.

  “She’s six, miss, ever so pretty and she does want to see you very badly.”

  “Then, of course, I will see her,” Angela agreed.

  She glanced in the mirror.

  “I am ready now, so perhaps you can take me to her.”

  “You’re not goin’ to wear any make-up, miss?” Emily enquired.

  Angela shook her head.

  “No. I think it is wrong and out of place for an angel.”

  She thought, as she spoke, of what her mother had told her about angels when she was a child. They had certainly not painted their lips red or powdered their noses for that matter.

  She glanced at the clock and saw that there was still plenty of time.

  The maid took her up to the next floor.

  As they went up the stairs, Angela asked,

  “Does Lady Mary have a Governess?”

  “No, m
iss,” Emily replied. “She takes all ’er lessons with the Vicar’s little daughter, but she’s still got Nanny. As it ’appens, Nanny’s away tonight on account of ’er mother bein’ ill. So one of the ’ousemaids is lookin’ after Lady Mary.”

  By this time they had reached the next floor and the maid opened a door into what was a very large and attractive nursery.

  It contained the same things that Angela had known and loved as a child.

  There was a rocking horse and a screen covered with stickers and Christmas cards. And in a corner of the room stood a large dolls’ house.

  The room, however, was empty and Emily went to another door and said,

  “Are you there, your Ladyship? I’ve brought the angel to see you!”

  There was a cry of delight and a moment later a little girl wearing her nightgown came running into the nursery.

  She was a very pretty child with brown curly hair and large blue eyes in a little pointed face.

  Angela was standing in front of the fireplace and she stopped in front of her to ask,

  “You really are an angel and you have wings?”

  “Yes, I have wings,” Angela answered.

  She turned round so that the child could see them and she touched them very gently with her fingers and exclaimed,

  “They are made of feathers!”

  “Of course they are,” Angela said, “and I expect real angels have feathers just like these, taken from the swans that fly through the clouds to reach Heaven.”

  “I have seen swans flying,” Lady Mary said. “Is that where they go?”

  “I think all birds when they fly up into the sky are looking for Heaven,” Angela said. “I used to watch the swans when I was a little girl and, when they disappeared into the clouds, I was sure that they were with the angels.”

  “That is what I think too,” Lady Mary said. “Please may I touch your halo?”

  Angela knelt down so that the child could touch it with gentle fingers.

  “It is so very pretty,” she said, “and it means that you are very very good.”

  “Of course it does,” Angela agreed, “and that is what I try to be.”

  She thought that this was a strange conversation to be having with a child after what she had said to her father.

  “I must go now,” she stated, “because if I am late, your Daddy will be angry with me.”

  “You will come back again to see me?” Lady Mary pleaded.

  “Of course I will,” Angela said. “I did not know you were here until Emily told me.”

  She looked at the maid as she spoke.

  “I am not allowed to go downstairs when Daddy has his noisy parties,” Lady Mary said. “When I asked him if I could come down and see his play, he said ‘no’.”

  It was obvious that this had hurt the little girl’s feelings and Angela replied quickly,

  “I am sure he will put on another play, perhaps at Christmas, which you will enjoy more than this one.”

  “I would like to see you again because you are an angel,” Lady Mary asserted positively.

  “When I come and see you tomorrow I will tell you about the play,” Angela answered.

  “Come and see me tonight,” Lady Mary begged her. “Daddy will not come because he is busy and I shall be all alone.”

  Because she sounded so pathetic, Angela said,

  “I think you will be asleep, but I promise you I will come up and say ‘goodnight’ after the play when I too will be going to bed.”

  “You promise? You promise?” Lady Mary asked.

  “I promise,” Angela said solemnly. “But try to go to sleep and tomorrow we will talk about everything.”

  “I would like that,” Lady Mary smiled, “but I am not allowed downstairs.”

  “That does not matter,” Angela said, “because I will come up to you.”

  Lady Mary put her arms round Angela’s neck and kissed her.

  “Thank you,” she sighed. “Now I have kissed an angel, perhaps I will be able to become one too.”

  “Of course you will, someday,” Angela replied, “but not until you are very old and have had lots of lovely things happen to you in your life.”

  “What sort of things?” Lady Mary asked curiously.

  “I will tell you about them tomorrow,” Angela promised.

  She rose from her knees as she spoke and Lady Mary repeated again,

  “Promise you will come and say ‘goodnight’ to me,”

  “I promise,” Angela said. “Now I must hurry as your Daddy will be waiting for me.”

  She walked towards the door, turned back to wave and Lady Mary waved to her.

  As she went down the stairs, she thought it was strange that the Marquis had a daughter whom he had never mentioned to her.

  She wondered if Trevor knew that he had been married, but there was, however, no time for speculation.

  Emily hurried her down the passages where she would not be seen until they reached the back door of the theatre.

  As soon as she entered, Angela could hear the chatter and laughter of the audience.

  She was aware that they were mostly the men who had been taking part in the races.

  There were, however, some women amongst them and she was able to peep at them through the side of the curtain.

  She knew at a glance they were not the sort of women her mother would have welcomed to her house.

  She suspected that the men with them treated them in the same way that they treated the Gaiety Girls.

  She was now aware that the small theatre was almost full.

  It was then that she heard the Marquis say,

  “Come away from there, Angela. We are going to start and we must all be ready to take our cues.”

  As he spoke, there was music from the orchestra.

  Angela moved back, as now she could see the curtain rising to reveal the set that they had rehearsed in in the morning.

  The first scene was, she realised, the second of Hogarth’s pictures, which he had entitled The Rake’s Levée.”

  The Marquis, as the Rake, looking incredibly smart, was entertaining his friends.

  They were, Angela realised, the five Gaiety Girls and the five gentlemen who had come down from London with them.

  There was music during the Levée and a large amount of champagne to drink.

  The conversation of the performers, which had been written by the Marquis, was witty and amusing.

  It kept the audience laughing until, when the Rake had obviously had too much to drink, the curtain fell.

  There was long and enthusiastic applause.

  The five Gaiety Girls walked onto the stage to sing a song that was a hit in Cinderella Up-to-Date.

  Their voices were not particularly outstanding but they looked extremely pretty.

  When the song ended, they danced round, showing their legs as they swirled and kicked.

  Their efforts evoked more rapturous applause from the enthusiastic audience.

  As the song finished and they moved away, the lights went down.

  The curtain rose again on what Angela realised was a gaming house and for a moment Hogarth’s picture was depicted very clearly.

  The Rake was handing over his winnings to attractive women who kept asking for more and more.

  Finally he had nothing left.

  He then went down on his knees and raised up his hands in despair just as Hogarth had painted the Rake.

  The curtain then fell while the scene was changed.

  One of the Marquis’s friends walked on stage to sing a song that was very popular in the Music Halls. It was called Champagne Charlie.

  Wearing a top hat and carrying a long cane, the man performed very well and had a good baritone voice.

  Because it was such a popular song, everybody knew it.

  He persuaded the audience to sing with him until the small theatre rang with the sound.

  There was tremendous applause at the end and then, for a moment, the lights went
out.

  Angela had been impressed, when she had first seen the Marquis’s theatre, that he had installed electric light.

  She knew too that it was fully operating in some parts of the house and it made her think wistfully of how much electric light would improve everything and everyone at The Priory.

  Oil lamps always needed attention and candles could be dangerous.

  Now there was a hush over the whole theatre until, very slowly, the lights came up again.

  The curtain rose to show the Debtors’ Prison in the background with just enough light to reveal several miserable-looking men dressed in rags and sprawled on the ground.

  The door of the prison was thrust open and the Rake was pushed in by a warder.

  He was no longer smart and there was an ugly expression of despair on his face.

  It was as if he knew that he had lost his freedom and might even die behind prison bars.

  He walked restlessly backwards and forwards as if he was trying to find some way of escape and then two of the other occupants of the cell swore at him for keeping them awake.

  He sank down on the ground in abject despair.

  As he did so, he gasped, as if he was dying, but nobody paid him any attention.

  Finally, he fell back as if unconscious or dead.

  It was then, with a brilliant light behind her, that Angela came in slowly from the further corner of the prison.

  She walked towards the Rake and stood still for just a moment looking down at him with compassion.

  He raised himself and spoke to her in a voice of anguish.

  He asked how could he have been such a fool as to have lost his life in this ridiculous fashion.

  She told him in a soft voice that she had come to give him another chance.

  If he repented of the mess he had made of his life and for all the foolish things he had done, he could do much better another time.

  “Another time?” he asked. “Are you really telling me that I can live my life again?”

  Very quietly Angela replied,

  “You will come back – come back again

  As the red earth rolls.

  God never wasted a leaf or a tree.

  Why should he squander souls?”

  The way she spoke was very moving.

  She had, in fact, never heard this verse until the Marquis had told it to her earlier.

  She had asked then,