LITMIR.BIZ

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want to be done for murder. He apologised and decided there was nothing for it but to go home and pretend nothing had happened. He had enjoyed an evening out with a pretty actress; nothing out of the ordinary in that, nothing to lose another night’s sleep over.

      He would pay Benedict his fifty pounds and be done with it.

       Chapter Two

       B eing part of a theatrical troupe, Madeleine was used to strange hours, when night became day and day was a time for sleeping and she did not see Marianne again until the following afternoon when the cast met to rehearse the new play to be put on the following week.

      Although he sometimes put on burlesque or contemporary plays lampooning the government, Lancelot Greatorex was chiefly known for his revivals of Shakespeare’s plays to which he gave a freshness and vitality, often bringing them right up to date with modern costumes and manners and allusions to living people or recent history. The following week Madeleine would be playing Helena in All’s Well That Ends Well, which lent itself surprisingly well to such treatment.

      In it, Helena, a physician’s daughter, cures the king of a mysterious illness and as a reward is allowed to choose one of his courtiers for a husband. She chooses Bertram, Count of Rousillon, but he maintains Helena is beneath him and though he is obliged to obey the king and wed her, he goes off to the wars rather that consummate the marriage. Later, Helena tricks him into bed by making him think she is another woman for whom he has a fancy and they exchange rings. When he realises what has happened, he accepts Helena for his wife.

      Maddy did not like the play; she thought the hero a weak character and the ending even weaker and she questioned whether a marriage based on such a trick could possibly be happy. Now that she was contemplating a hoax herself, the question was even more pertinent. Not that she intended to trick anyone into her bed, far from it, but she did mean to deceive Society as a whole.

      ‘Madeleine, do pay attention,’ Lancelot said mildly, after she had missed her cue for the second time. ‘You have been in a brown study all afternoon. Whatever is the matter with you?’

      Maddy pulled herself out of her reverie and peered down into the gloom of the orchestra pit where he was standing. She knew from past experience that his mild tone hid annoyance, and it behoved her to pull herself together. ‘I am sorry, Mr Greatorex. It won’t happen again.’

      ‘To be sure it won’t,’ he said. ‘Unless you wish to see your understudy in the role. Now, let us do that scene again.’

      Madeleine looked across at Marianne who winked at her. She smiled back and began the scene again and this time it went some way to satisfying the great actor-manager. Nothing would ever satisfy him completely, he was such a perfectionist, but he knew just how far to go with his criticism before he had a weeping and useless performer on his hands. Not that anyone had ever seen Madeleine Charron weeping, not offstage, though she could put on a very convincing act on stage if it were required.

      After the rehearsal, Marianne joined Madeleine in the dressing room they shared to prepare for the evening performance of Romeo and Juliet. ‘It is not like you to miss your cue, Maddy,’ her friend said. ‘Is anything wrong?’

      ‘No, not at all. I am a little tired.’

      ‘I hope you did not lie awake last night, fantasising about the Marquis of Risley.’

      ‘Now, why should I do that? He is one of the idle rich and you know what I think about them.’ Her answer was so quick and sharp, Marianne knew she had hit upon the truth.

      ‘Then why, in heaven’s name, did you find it necessary to deceive him?’

      ‘It just came out. It always does, when anyone asks me about my family.’

      ‘But why? You are admired and respected as an actress. Why cannot you be content with that?’

      ‘I don’t know. I suppose because I have always wanted a family of my own, someone to belong to, and if invention is the only way—’ She stopped speaking suddenly. Her reasons seemed so trite, so unconvincing, and yet Marianne detected the wistfulness in her voice.

      ‘You do have a family, my dear,’ Marianne said softly. ‘You have me and all the rest of the company; that is your family. Mine too, come to that.’

      ‘Yes, I know, but I can’t help wishing…’

      ‘We all have dream wishes, Maddy, the secret is to recognise them for what they are, and to be able to distinguish the attainable from the unattainable. You have it in you to be an outstanding actress, one of the few who will be remembered long after they have left this world behind, a byword for excellence. Surely that is better than being remembered for a short time for pretending to be something you are not.’

      ‘That is what acting is, pretending to be someone else.’

      Marianne laughed. ‘You do like to have the last word, don’t you? I will concede you right on that, but you should not extend that into your everyday life.’

      Madeleine was silent for a minute, during which they attended to their make-up, but if Marianne thought that was the end of the conversation, she was mistaken. Maddy worried at it like a dog with a bone. ‘You have met the Stanmores, haven’t you?’ she asked, apparently casually.

      ‘Yes, the first time was when I took part in an amateur production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream they put on at Stanmore House to raise funds for the Duchess’s charitable works. The whole family was involved, even the children.’

      ‘And they took you for a lady?’

      ‘Yes, but only because Sir Percival Ponsonby introduced me and vouched for me. He was the one who invented my history.’

      ‘He evidently did not mind deceiving them?’

      ‘It was in a good cause.’

      ‘And they never guessed?’

      ‘Oh, it all came out in the end, of course. We never meant to deceive them permanently.’

      ‘And they forgave you and the Duchess still receives you. I know you are sometimes included in her soirées.’

      ‘I go to entertain the company. It is in aid of the charity and I am pleased to do it, but the Duchess does not treat me as an equal, though we deal very well together.’

      ‘Will you take me with you next time?’

      ‘Maddy, don’t be a ninny. How can I? I go by invitation and they are not easy to come by.’

      ‘You could fix it. Offer them a performance that needs two players and take me to assist you.’

      Marianne looked thoughtfully at her friend, wondering what was behind the request. ‘Perhaps I could, but the Marquis might not like his outside pursuits intruding on his home life; he might be very angry, not only with you, but with me for encouraging you.’

      ‘He cannot know that you know my story is not true. No one will blame you. At least it will make him notice me.’

      Marianne burst into laughter. ‘He has already done that and you repaid him with whiskers.’

      ‘I know. But if he believed them, where’s the harm?’

      ‘Maddy, my love, his father will have the story checked, even if the son takes it at face value. You will be in a serious coil, if you persist.’

      She had not thought of that, but then brightened. ‘What can he discover? So many Frenchmen came over during the Terror, there’s no keeping track of them.’

      ‘I think you would do better to own up and apologise.’

      ‘I will. When the opportunity arises. But the Marquis did not intimate he was going to ask me out again and I can hardly accost him in the street to tell him, can I?’

      Marianne laughed. ‘No, but going to his home and confronting him will not serve either. Besides, he might not be there. True, he still lives at Stanmore

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