A Night of Gaiety (7 page)

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Authors: Barbara Cartland

BOOK: A Night of Gaiety
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D
avita had assured her at the time that she had not thought of such a thing, and, thinking of it now, she could not help feeling that she would have had a small inheritance indeed if she had had to share the one hundred ninety-nine pounds with twin half-brothers.

K
atie had mentioned another Gaiety Girl called Katie Vaughan, who she had said was the biggest star the Gaiety had ever known, and she had married the Honourable Arthur Frederick Wellesley, nephew of the great Duke of Wellington.


But that marriage,” she had said in her gossipy way, “ended upside-down in the Divorce Courts.”


That might have happened to Papa,’ Davita thought, ‘if he had wanted to re-marry after Katie had left him.’ Instead he had just taken to drink, and she wondered if the Gaiety Girls did in fact make such very good wives.

S
he was just dropping off to sleep when it seemed she could almost hear the Marquis’s voice saying:


Go back to Scotland!”

T
he next morning Davita awoke at what seemed to her to be a disgracefully late hour, and she sat up staring at the clock beside her bed incredulously to find it was a quarter-to-ten.


Violet will think I am very lazy,’ she thought.

T
hen she knew she was being foolish because Violet certainly would not yet be awake.

H
owever, she washed herself in the cold water that was in a china ewer in the corner of her tiny room, extracted a day-gown from her trunk, and went downstairs to the kitchen.

M
rs. Jenkins, with her hair in curling-rags, was cooking on the range.


Good-morning, Mrs. Jenkins,” Davita said.


I suppose you’re looking for breakfast,” Mrs. Jenkins replied. “Well, yer’re a bit early, but I’ll see wot I can do.”


Early!” Davita exclaimed.

Mrs. Jenkins laughed.


Those as come ’ere from the country all starts by appearing at the crack o’ dawn. Then they soon gets into the Theatre ways. Yer’ll find yer friend Violet won’t open her blue eyes ’til after noon, and then only if she’s lunching with one o’ the ‘Nobs.’ ”


I would love some breakfast, if it is no trouble,” Davita said. “I am hungry.”


Then sit down and I’ll fry yer some eggs,” Mrs. Jenkins said. “Yer’ll find a pot of tea on the stove. There’s a cup and saucer in the cupboard.”

D
avita fetched the cup and saucer, poured the tea out of the brown china pot, and found that it was so strong that it would be impossible to drink it unless she added some hot water.

F
ortunately, there was also a kettle boiling with which to dilute what seemed more like stew than ordinary tea, and in a cupboard she found a jug filled with very thin, watery-looking milk.

B
ecause she was genuinely hungry and had drunk very little champagne last night, she ate a hearty breakfast for which she thanked Mrs. Jenkins profusely.


Don’t thank me,” the Landlady replied, “yer’re payin’ for it, as yer’ll find when you gets the bill at the end o’ the week!”

S
he thought there was a frightened expression in Davita’s eyes, and added kindly:


Now don’t yer fret yerself, child. I’ll not over-charge yer. And one day yer might find yerself in the lead an’ drawing two hundred pounds a week like Lottie Collins.”


Two hundred pounds a week!” Davita exclaimed. She began to think that perhaps she was being stupid about not going on the stage. Then she remembered Lottie Collins’s performance, and knew that Lord Mundesley had been right. It had indeed shocked her!

E
ven though she was acting, for a woman to appear so abandoned, so out of control, had made her feel ashamed.

S
he knew in her heart that she wanted to be like her mother, soft, sweet, feminine, and at the same time intelligent and able to do almost anything well.

T
hat was not to say that riding, fishing, shooting, and making a house a happy place were accomplishments fo
r which anyone would employ her.

T
hen uncomfortably she knew the answer.

W
hat her mother had been was a very accomplished wife, and Mr. Stirling had been right when he had said she ought to get married.


Perhaps I shall meet someone here in London,’ she thought, and knew, although she had no reason for thinking so, that it was unlikely.

S
he was quite sure that whatever Katie might have said about Gaiety Girls getting married, the men she had seen last night were out to enjoy themselves and were not looking for a wife amongst the glamorous, lovely actresses they escorted to Romano’s.

T
hey were fascinated, amused, and certainly entertained by the charmers sitting under the flowery bells inscribed with their names, or leaning towards them across the table in a manner which made the lowness of their elaborate gowns seem somewhat immodest. But that did not mean marriage.


Besides,” Davita said to herself, “if I married into that sort of life, I would be like a fish out of water.”

A
s if it was something somebody had said aloud, she knew she would never marry any man unless she loved him.

W
hen Lord Mundesley had put his arm round her she had felt a little shiver of distaste go through her, and when he had kissed her hand good-night she had wanted to snatch it away from him.

W
hy did she feel like that, when he had been far more affectionate towards Violet and had kissed her on the lips?

D
avita shuddered as she thought of how unpleasant it would be to feel his mouth touch hers, and she told herself, although she knew it was very stupid, that she hoped she would never see him again.


I will have to find out about a Domestic Bureau today,’ she thought, and said aloud to Mrs. Jenkins:


Is there a Domestic Bureau near here where employers engage staff?”

M
rs. Jenkins turned from the stove to ask:


What do yer want a Domestic Bureau for?”


I have to find myself some work, Mrs. Jenkins.”

“Yer mean yer’re not planning to go on the stage like yer friend?”

D
avita shook her head. Then she said anxiously: “You would not refuse to keep me because I have said that? I know you only take Theatrical people, but I am very happy here with you.”


Don’t fret yerself,” Mrs. Jenkins replied. “I’ll not turn yer away. I can see yer’re a lidy without knowing who yer father was. But wot sort of work was yer planning on gettin’?”


I really do not know,” Davita replied. “It is ... difficult. I have no experience and everything I have been taught seems particularly unsaleable.”

S
he thought Mrs. Jenkins looked at her in a rather strange way before she replied:


Perhaps Violet’ll ’ave some ideas on the subject. She can look after ’erself, that one can!”


She is so beautiful,” Davita said. “I can understand her getting good parts in the Theatre, even if she does not act.”

M
rs. Jenkins did not reply but returned to her cooking, and Davita went on as if following the train of her thoughts:


Perhaps she will get married ...’

S
he stopped as she thought she had been very stupid. Of course Violet would marry Lord Mundesley!

S
he had made it very clear that he belonged to her, and he certainly had behaved in a very possessive manner. Why otherwise should she have kissed him?


You see, Mrs. Jenkins,” she said, “if Violet gets married, then I should have to find someone else to be with, and ...”


What makes yer think she’s likely to be married?” Mrs. Jenkins interrupted.


I was thinking that perhaps she is secretly engaged, although she has ... not told me so, to Lord Mundesley.”

M
rs. Jenkins gave a short laugh without much humour in it.


Now yer’re barking up the wrong tree,” she said. “ ’Ow d’yer expect Violet to marry Lord Mundesley, when he’s married already!”

L
ater that day, when she was shopping with Violet, who was ordering herself a new gown and a hat to go with it, Davita told herself that she had been very stupid.

I
t had never struck her for one moment that Lord Mundesley, and perhaps a great number of other men amongst those she had seen last night, were enjoying themselves without the company of their wives.

S
he supposed she was ignorant in such matters because her father and mother had always been so happy together, and it had never entered her head that there could be anyone else in their lives.

H
er first feeling had
been one of indignation that Lord Mundesley should behave as he did, kissing Violet and flattering her when he had a wife all the time.

T
hen she felt very lost and ignorant and even more afraid of the glittering world in which she found herself than she had been before. She wondered if Lord William was a married man, or the Marquis.

B
ut if the Marquis was married he could not have been engaged to Rosie. In which case, why had he invited her to stay in his house in Chelsea, then turned her out?

I
t all seemed incomprehensible, and although Davita longed to ask Violet a lot of questions, she felt it was impertinent and she might resent it.

S
o instead she tried to concentrate on the gown which Violet was choosing in what seemed to Davita a large and impressive shop in Regent Street.

F
inally when Violet was satisfied that she had found what she wanted, she ordered some alterations to be made and insisted that the dressmaker added more lace and ribbon to the already elaborate dress.

O
nly when she had finished did Davita ask:


What are we going to do now?”

“We’ll have some tea at Gunters in Berkeley Square,” Violet answered, “and while you’re enjoying one of the best ice-creams you’ve ever tasted in your life, I want to talk to you.”

S
he spoke in a mysterious manner which made Davita look at her apprehensively, but she did not say anything as Violet, dressed once again in her own gown, pinned her hat covered in flowers on her fair hair with jewelled hat-pins and picked up her handbag.


The gown will be ready tomorrow afternoon, Ma’am,” the dressmaker promised, “and may I add that it is always a great pleasure to have the privilege of dressing you, Miss Lock.”


Thank you,” Violet replied.


I went to the Gaiety the other night for the fifth time! I thought you looked wonderful, you really did!”


Thank you.”


Shall I send the gown to the same address?” the dressmaker enquired.


Yes, please.”


And the bill as usual to Lord Mundesley?”

V
iolet nodded.

A
s they walked away, Davita felt as though somebody had struck her a sharp blow on the head.

T
he person who was paying for the gown was Lord Mundesley, who was a married man, and Davita was certain that the bill would be astronomical.

It was something that would have shocked her mother considerably, and Davita was not quite certain whether she should tell Violet she thought it wrong, or say nothing.

Then she remembered the bills her father had run up, which she had found after he had died.

O
f course the gowns and dozens of other things he had ordered had been for Katie, whom he had married, which was a very different thing.

B
ut even that was wrong, for a man to dress a woman before she was actually his wife.


I wish somebody could explain it to me,’ Davita thought unhappily.

Then she told herself it was something that need not concern her, as long as she behaved in a way that she knew was right and of which her mother would have approved.

T
hey drove in a hackney-carriage to Berkeley Square, where on one corner of Hay Hill was a bow-fronted shop filled with small tables.

I
t was quite early in the afternoon, but there were a number of people already seated, and when Violet had ordered two strawberry ice-creams Davita understood why.

T
hey were more delicious than anything she had ever eaten, and when she said so, Violet smiled at her enthusiasm.


I thought you’d enjoy them, and now it’s time to have a little chat. I want to have a rest before I go to the Theatre, and if we start talking then, I shan’t get a chance of some shut-eye.”


What do you want to talk to me about?” Davita asked.


Yourself,” Violet said. “You told me you came here to get some work, and I’d like to know what your father left you.”


Exactly one hundred ninety-nine pounds, ten shillings!” Davita answered. “But out of that I had to pay my fare to London, so it will not last forever.”


You’re not carrying it with you?” Violet asked.


I would not be so stupid as that. I put most of it in the Bank, and I have a cheque-book of my own!”


A cheque-book’s all right,” Violet remarked, “but the Bank-balance is nothing to write home about it; it’s got to last you to your old age.”


That is what worries me,” Davita said, “and now you understand why I have to find something to do, and quickly.”

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