Sir Thomas did not come to the theatre the next evening. Instead he sent a note of apology along with an orchid in a box. “No beau this evening? quizzed Sophia. “He has been detained at a meeting in the City.”
“He must be very clever.” “Yes, he is.”
“And he has quite an eye for you! He does know that you’re from a fine family, doesn’t he?”
“I have told him just a little of my circumstances.”
“So, there’s no obstacle should he propose!”
“Only that I don’t want to marry him – ”
Sophia looked at their reflection in the mirror to see that Temia was blushing. “It’s his friend, isn’t it – the one who rarely speaks? I’ve seen his eyes on you and yours on his. Oh, to have two men in love with me like that!”
Temia moved quickly away, horrified that she had shown her feelings so transparently.
She did not pass comment on what Sophia had said, but then could it be true? Dare she hope that the Earl could have feelings for her?
She busied herself with the make-up box and soon, Sophia was rushing off to go on stage.
As soon as the dressing room had cleared, she sat down and stared at her reflection in the mirror.
‘Do I love him?’ she questioned herself. Almost as soon as she allowed herself that thought, there came a soft knocking on the door. Believing it to be the boy who had been helping her, she opened it without looking to see who was there.
With her back to the door, she called out, “If you’ve finished clearing up, Albert, can you go and tell Mr. Baker I’ll be finished tomorrow afternoon?” “Much as I would love to clear up for you, Temia, I don’t think I am suitably attired!” came a deep rich voice.
Temia whirled round, and gasped in shock as she saw that it was not Albert, but the Earl of Wentworth.
“Oh, please forgive me, my Lord – I thought it was Albert, my assistant.”
The Earl laughed and Temia was struck at how a smile transformed his face. He was handsome anyway, but smiling, he was stunningly so.
Her heart beat alarmingly fast and she felt herself short of breath as she looked at him. He had taken off his hat and was now perched upon one of the long benches that served as a dressing table.
“Thomas has been detained,” he started, “and so, I thought you may care to join me for dinner this evening.”
Temia hesitated. Her heart was saying yes, but her head was saying something different. Although there was no formal arrangement that she was Sir Thomas’s sweetheart, she felt a degree of loyalty towards him. “I – am – busy,” she stuttered, after a long silence.
It hurt to refuse him, but this was Sir Thomas’s best friend.
“Of course, you are loyal to Thomas. Very well, I shall not trouble you further this evening, but will see you another time with him.”
Underneath the politeness, Temia could sense his hurt, as if she herself had been pierced by a spear. She had just refused the man she loved! He raised his hat and left as quietly as he had come.
Temia put on her cloak and then left at once for Mrs. Hook’s – she did not care that she was meant to help the girls undress later, they would manage for themselves.
Arriving back at her lodgings, she ran upstairs and threw herself on the bed in a flood of tears. She cried herself to sleep, still wearing her clothes, much to Sophia’s surprise when she came in much later.
*
Leo Baker carefully examined the new backdrop and declared himself to be a delighted man.
“Excellent! You have done a wonderful job!”
“Thank you, Mr. Baker,” answered Temia, full of pleasure in having successfully completed her task.
“You can stay with Les Jolies Mademoiselles for as long as you wish. Furthermore, I shall pay you a salary from now on. Come to my office a bit later. I don’t want another theatre snapping you up, as once word gets around that I have the best scenery designer in London, they will all want you! Well done, my dear. Very well done.”
Temia supervised the loading of the backdrop onto the waiting cart and then went into the Green Room, the rest room for the girls of Les Jolies Mademoiselles.
She picked up a copy of The Times and sat down to read it. She liked to scan the Court Circular so that she at least felt a little part of the world she had scarcely had a chance to inhabit.
She turned to the pages at the back and just then something in the Notices section caught her eye.
“Missing.” it read. “Anxious parents eagerly seek news of their daughter, Miss Temia Brandon of Bovendon Hall, Northamptonshire. Fair hair, blue eyes and slim build. Anyone knowing about a person of that description, please contact Box 34.”
She read it with a lump in her throat. So her parents were now trying to find her! Tears sprang to her eyes. Her first instinct was to write to the box number anonymously and say that she was well, but that she did not wish to be found.
‘But what if they are trying to contact me to tell me that Lord Alphonse has left them alone?’
She was still crying over the newspaper when Leo Baker came into the Green Room looking for her.
“Now then, what’s all this?” he remarked gently in a voice that was so different from his usual hearty manner.
He put his arm protectively around Temia and attempted to comfort her.
Quickly she folded the newspaper so he could not read the notice – but it was too late, he had already caught a glimpse of it.
“Why do you not just write to your parents and let them know you are all right?” he suggested. “You don’t have to tell them your whereabouts. In any case, we are about to move out of Kensington to Covent Garden.”
“I cannot!” she cried, burying her face in her skirt.
“Well, perhaps write to your mother? If there has been some argument, then at least write to her. But now, the cart is here, Temia, you are needed out front.”
Temia dried her eyes and, as she was organising the removal of the backdrop, she came to a decision.
‘I shall write to Mama at once – she has not had a single word from me since the first note I sent. There is no need to tell her too much, just that I am well and happy and if there is good news, put another notice in The Times.’ Now that the backdrop had been painted, she was free until the evening – the last performance of the season at the Royal Kent Theatre.
Sophia was just leaving when Temia arrived back at Mrs. Hook’s. She had packed most of her things and a trunk stood at the end of her bed and Temia almost tripped over it as she entered the room.
“Oh, I am sorry!” apologised Sophia. “I wanted to make ready for leaving tomorrow. I’m always so behind and you left so early this morning.”
“The Earl came to the theatre yesterday and asked me to dine with him after the show.”
“And you accepted, I hope?”
“No, I could not. Oh, Sophia, how could I when I know that his best friend has feelings for me? Even though we have not made promises to each other, it would have been disloyal for me to have dined with him alone.”
“Is that why you were still dressed and fast asleep, when I came back last night?” Temia nodded.
“And then, today, I found a notice in The Times that Mama and Papa are seeking news of me.”
“Will you write to them?”
“I have decided to write a letter to Mama. She will understand more why I write secretly. Papa will not.”
“Then, I will leave you be. Will I see you at the theatre this evening? It’s the last performance.”
“You will,” answered Temia, taking off her cloak.
As soon as Sophia had left, she took up a sheet of paper and a quill pen and began to write.
She posted her letter that afternoon.
‘There, it’s done,’ she sighed. She felt a sense of relief as she walked towards the theatre. The lights were already on when she arrived and once inside she was stopped by the stage door manager.
“Something’s come for you,” he grunted. He went into his little office and emerged carrying a huge bunch of flowers.
Temia’s heart skipped a beat. Could they be from the Earl? She prayed that they were, but in her heart she knew that they were from Sir Thomas.
She opened the attached note and read,
“I look forward to supper later at Henri’s. I will be at the stage door at ten with my carriage. Affectionately yours, Thomas.”
The show was a tremendous success that evening. The girls received endless curtain calls as Temia watched from the wings with a tear in her eye.
She was so proud to be even a small part of this wonderful show!
“Come and take a bow with me, Temia!” cried Leo Baker, taking her hand and pulling her onto the stage.
Before she could protest, she found herself under the burning lights, bowing with Les Jolies Mademoiselles to thunderous applause.
Awkward at first, she soon became accustomed to the roar of the crowd and took her bows with the others.
“Is that Temia? No, it cannot be!”
The blonde young woman in the stalls cried out to her companion and almost fainted from shock.
“What is it, Georgiana. Do you feel ill?”
Georgiana leaned forward and looked again.
“Yes, it is! Oh, my word. So this is where she has been hiding! I should have guessed she might run away to the theatre. But what is she doing here? And so close?”
Her puzzled friend waited with her until the crowds had gone and then accompanied her to the stage door.
“I shall ask to see her – and I will not be put off!” “Who is that girl?” her friend asked Georgiana.
“My missing cousin! Her mother is so frantic with worry and she has been right under our noses all this time!”
Georgiana strode up to the stage door and knocked on it. The stage door manager peered out and was taken aback to see two young ladies of obvious gentility. “Yes, miss?”
“I have come for Miss Brandon. She works here.”
“No lady of that name at this theatre, miss. You are mistaken.”
“But I have just seen her here – on the stage!”
“I’m sorry, miss, I say again, you’re mistaken!”
“Miss Temia Brandon! She’s here, I know.”
The stage door manager thought for a second.
“There’s a Miss Temia Morris, but you’ve only just missed her. Her young man collected her ten minutes ago.”
“Oh! How unfortunate! I really must contact her. Is there an address where I can write to her?”
“Well, they all moves on tomorrow, but here is the address of her lodgings.”
Georgiana handed him a shilling.
“Why, thank you, miss!” he touched his forelock.
“I know what I must do,” she said, as she climbed into her carriage, “as soon as I arrive home, I will write to Aunt Alice and tell her I have found Temia.”
“Perhaps she does not wish to be found,” suggested her friend quizzically.
“That is of no importance,” answered Georgiana. “Aunt Alice must know – and as soon as possible!”
*
The jet-black carriage rumbled over the cobbles of Mayfair. Inside, Sir Thomas Babbington was holding the hand of Temia Brandon and stroking it gently.
“I want this evening to be so special, my dove,” he crooned, gazing into her eyes. “Henri is expecting us and has promised me the best table in the house.”
“What is the occasion?” she asked excitedly. “Did your meeting go well in the City?”
“It did, but that is not the reason we are going to visit Monsieur Henri’s establishment. I have an important matter I wish to discuss with you.”
Temia’s face fell. “Is something amiss?” she asked.
Sir Thomas chuckled.
“Don’t you worry your head with such concerns, my angel. I don’t intend to give too much away, as I know how much you adore surprises.”
Monsieur Henri’s was located in a small side street off Park Lane and was considered very fashionable. “You will like it here,” insisted Sir Thomas, as a waiter showed them to their table in a secluded corner.
As soon as they were seated in the plush dining room, Monsieur Henri himself came to greet them.
“Sir Thomas. How wonderful to see you and who is this charming young lady?”
“Henri, this is Miss Morris, a dear friend of mine.”
“Très belle, très jolie!” exclaimed Monsieur Henri. “Enchanté, mademoiselle. You will drink champagne, of course, and I have a very special bottle on ice for you.”
He clapped his hands and a silver bucket full of ice was brought to the table and he then opened the bottle.
With that and a quick wink to Sir Thomas, he made a short bow and then left the table.
“Do you like the restaurant?” asked Sir Thomas.
“Very much, thank you.”
“To you, my dearest!” he murmured, raising his glass with a smile.
Temia followed suit and took a sip from her glass.
“Is it to your taste?”
“It’s most delicious, Sir Thomas, but can we order something to eat?” asked Temia, taking another sip. “I shall get a headache if I drink this without food.”
He snapped his fingers and a waiter appeared. “Two steak entrecôte, please,” he ordered.
Temia and Sir Thomas chatted away until the food arrived and then, she drank some more champagne.
As she set it down, she noticed there was something sparkling in the bottom of her glass.
“Oh, what can it be?” she said, picking it up and examining it.
“I thought you would never notice, my love!” Temia dipped her finger into the liquid and pulled out a diamond ring.
“Oh!” she cried, holding it up to the light.
“Yes, my darling. I want you to marry me. Temia, will you? I love you so very much and want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you.”
“So there you are!” came a sudden voice. “I have searched all over Mayfair for you!”
Temia looked up to see the Earl standing there, gesturing to a waiter to bring another chair to the table.
“Wentworth!”
“I missed you at the theatre. So, I went to the Club and had a few drinks, but you not did appear.”
“Wentworth, old boy. I am having a private dinner with Temia. In fact, I have just asked her to marry me!”
The Earl froze in his chair. His face fell and took on a wounded expression for a fleeting moment. Temia watched while he composed himself. He sat upright and then jumped up and stormed off to the door.
“Richard!” yelled Sir Thomas. “Temia, my darling. I am sorry. I should go after him. Will you excuse me?”
Temia breathed a sigh of relief. As she held the sparkling ring up to the light, she twirled it around and examined the large central diamond.
‘It’s beautiful,’ she sighed, ‘but I cannot accept. If I needed proof of the man I love, then I have just received it. My heart left the room at the same time as the Earl.’
When Sir Thomas eventually returned, he seemed very upset. His hair was awry and his face red.
“I’m very sorry, Temia, but I have lost my appetite. Would you mind if we left? I have just asked Monsieur to fetch our cloaks.”
“Not at all, Thomas, but what has happened? You look terrible!”
“It’s Wentworth. There was an argument and he bally-well went for me.”
Temia did not need any further explanation. She knew exactly what had transpired between the two men. She did not speak until they were in the carriage.
She had been holding onto the ring since he had returned to their table, and now, she returned it to him.
“I am sorry, but I cannot accept your proposal,” she whispered.
“But why?”
“I-I – ”
“You are upset – I do understand, my darling. It was Wentwoth’s outburst, was it not?”
Temia nodded her head. It was not a lie, after all.
Outside her lodgings, the carriage came to a halt.
“Goodnight, Thomas,” she said, kissing his cheek.
She was relieved that he was clearly still too upset to attempt to kiss her lips again.
He stared at Temia with such love that she felt tears rise to her eyes. She knew, however, without a shadow of doubt that she did not love him.
*
Temia slept late the next day – and it was fortunate that she and Sophia did not have to leave Mrs Hook’s until late afternoon. The cab came at two o’clock for their luggage and then they went back upstairs to finish clearing their room. “Where is the duster?” asked Temia. “Mrs. Hook will be cross if we don’t leave the room spick and span.”
“I’ll go and ask her for it,” offered Sophia.
Ten minutes later she returned with a strange look on her face and no feather duster.
“Temia, this letter has just come for you.”
She handed it to her and, at once, Temia saw that it bore her mother’s handwriting.
“So soon!” she whispered.
“She must have replied at once. Do you think she is in London for it to have arrived so swiftly?”
Temia’s hands were shaking as she read the letter.
“She is coming to London tomorrow! Oh, how did she find out where I was? I don’t understand! Wait – she says that Cousin Georgiana saw me on stage last night and sent her a letter that she must have received this morning. The stage doorman gave her this address.”
“Oh, Temia! What else does she say?”
“Papa does not know of this, but she wishes to meet me at two o’clock in Fortnum and Mason’s restaurant. Oh, Sophia! What shall I do?”
“You must see your Mama, of course.” “But what if she brings Papa with her and they then attempt to drag me back to Northamptonshire?”
“Do you really believe that could happen?”
Temia sat down on the bed and sighed with despair.
“Sophia, I confess I don’t know.”
Just then, the heavy footsteps of Mrs. Hook could be heard coming up the stairs.
“Mrs. Hook! She will be wanting her keys back!”
Temia tucked the letter into the waistband of her skirt, as the carriage was ready to go to Covent Garden.
‘Tomorrow,’ she thought. ‘I shall decide tomorrow morning what to do for the best.’
As she closed the door behind her, she could not help but wonder what the next few days would bring.