Gail Whitiker (23 page)

‘Yes, of course,’ he said, clearing his throat. ‘The play is entitled
The Silver Chalice
and it is the story of two warring nations, one ruled by a despotic pharaoh, the other by a clever but humble woman who is determined to defeat him and to gain freedom for her people.’

‘A noble premise,’ Victoria said. ‘When and where is it set?’

‘Egypt, 1280 BC.’

Joanna gasped. ‘But that is the time of Seti the First!’

‘That’s right, and it was you who inspired the story, Lady Joanna.’

‘Me?’

‘Yes. The day you told me I should combine my passion for ancient Egypt with my love of telling stories,’ Laurence said quietly. ‘For some reason, the thought of doing so had never occurred to me before, but once I sat down to rework the story along those lines, it all fell perfectly into place.’

‘As I said, it is a departure from the Valentine Lawe plays we are used to seeing,’ Theo said, ‘but I agree with Sir Michael that the story is riveting and I predict it will attract an even wider audience than did his first four plays, especially if it is produced at Drury Lane.’

‘I still have to get Elliston’s approval on that,’ Sir Michael said, ‘but based on the strength of Valentine Lawe’s name, I don’t anticipate any problems. I’ll get back to you in a few days, Templeton. Well done, Mr Bretton. Well done indeed!’

‘My goodness, this
is
exciting news,’ Victoria said as that gentleman left the room. ‘You were very naughty not to tell me you had finished the play, Laurence, but I am thrilled to hear it has been so well received.’

‘No more than I, I can assure you,’ Laurence admitted with a rueful smile.

His sister’s eyes sparkled with mirth. ‘Yes, I’m sure. But now I really must run. I promised to meet Mr Devlin at the orphanage and I do not like to keep him waiting. Shall I wait for you in the carriage, Laurence?’

Laurence could see that his sister was bursting with curiosity and knew she would have a thing or two to say to him when they were alone. But he said only, ‘No, you go on ahead. I shall make my own way home. I’d like to have a word with Lady Joanna first.’

‘Very well, then, I shall see you at Mama’s later. She has invited Mr Devlin and myself for dinner, so you may tell me all about your new play then. As for you, Uncle,’ Victoria said, crossing the room to kiss him affectionately on the cheek. ‘Thank you for giving us such splendid news. It could not have come at a better time.’

‘I am inclined to think the same,’ Theo murmured. ‘I shall see you after dinner. I need to have a word with your father.’

Joanna, who had said very little during the last few minutes, abruptly stood up. ‘I must be going too—’

‘Lady Joanna...’ Laurence said. ‘If I could have a moment—’

‘Thank you for agreeing to see me, Mr Templeton,’ Joanna said, directing her comment to his uncle and sparing not so much as a glance for Laurence. ‘Please accept my apologies for having taken up so much of your time.’

‘You took up no time and no apologies are necessary,’ Theo assured her in a gentle voice. ‘It was a pleasure to see you again, Lady Joanna.’

‘Lady Joanna,’ Laurence said, stepping in front of her. ‘I really
must
speak with you.’

‘I’m afraid I have no time, Mr Bretton.’ Joanna smoothed her gown and tucked an errant curl under the brim of her bonnet. ‘I have a very busy afternoon.’

‘Have you no word for me at all?’ Laurence said, desperate to know how she felt. But though the lady looked as though she might say something, in the end, she merely pressed her lips together and shook her head before walking quickly out of the room.

Laurence went to follow, but was stayed by the pressure of his uncle’s hand. ‘Let her go, Laurence,’ Theo said.

‘But I have to explain—’

‘She will not hear what you have to say, nor will she thank you for following her out,’ Theo said. ‘She came here today, expecting to hear one thing, only to be told another. And it was made worse by the fact that Sir Michael Loftus said what he did in front of both of you.’

Laurence paused, torn between what he wanted to do and what his uncle believed to be the right thing. ‘Did you say what you did about my play for her benefit?’

‘Good God, no! I said what I did because the play is excellent. And you know Loftus wouldn’t have said it was exceptional unless it damn well was. I had no idea you could write so well.’

‘Perhaps I’ve been lacking the right motivation,’ Laurence murmured. ‘As regards Joanna, you were right to tell me I was the one who had to patch things up with her. I know now that it is my responsibility and I intend to take care of it. But if I let her leave here today without making at least
some
attempt to speak to her after what Sir Michael said, I fear it will only make matters worse.’

Theo nodded and removed his hand. ‘In that case, I will see you at the house later. It appears that we
all
have a great deal to talk about.’

* * *

Laurence caught up with Joanna as she was climbing into her carriage. ‘Lady Joanna, wait! I must speak with you.’

‘There is nothing to say,’ she said. ‘Can you not see how difficult this is for me? How mortified I am?’

‘But you have no reason to be mortified.’

‘Of course I do. Why do you think I came here today?’

‘I really don’t care—’

‘Well, I do,’ Joanna said unhappily. ‘I came because I didn’t believe you and because I wanted to find out the truth about Valentine Lawe. When I read that article in the paper this morning, I thought talking to Mr Templeton might give me the answer I needed...and it did. It gave me irrefutable evidence that you are
exactly
who you claim to be and that I have been wrong all along.’

‘Damn it, Joanna, you’re not wrong!’

‘Yes, I am,’ she said with quiet conviction. ‘Ever since we met in the Temple of the Muses, I have doubted you. I’ve questioned your integrity, challenged your commitment to archaeology and, worse, called you a liar to your face. Were I a man you could demand satisfaction, but as a woman, I can offer nothing but the most heartfelt apology. I should have known that a man as honourable and as honest as you would
never
pretend to be someone he was not.’

‘Joanna, please
listen
to me!’ Laurence said, needing to stem the flow of words in an effort to make her understand. ‘I know this isn’t a good time—’

‘Nor will there ever be a better one. It was bad enough your uncle and sister saw me with you on stage that day, behaving in a way no well-bred young lady would ever consider behaving,’ Joanna said, blushing furiously. ‘But to have them find me here today, knowing I came because I did not believe you, is too much to be borne. It is best we say our goodbyes now and let that be an end of it.’

‘Joanna, for God’s sake—’

‘Good afternoon, Mr Bretton. Drive on, James!’

The reins jangled and the carriage pulled away, forcing Laurence to jump back to avoid being run over by the wheels. Muttering a string of expletives, he shoved his hands into his pockets and stood staring after it.

What was he supposed to do now? Rather than having assured Joanna that her doubts about his being Valentine Lawe were justified, she was more convinced than ever that
she
was the one in the wrong. He had been spared yet again; the deception played out to the benefit of himself and his family.

Yet nothing his uncle or Sir Michael had said this afternoon was a lie.
The Silver Chalice
was his own work. He had written it without help from anyone else and if it did turn out to be the success both men predicted, it would only be because the story and the writing were strong enough to stand on their own merit.

He no longer had to
pretend
to be Valentine Lawe. He could truthfully claim the role as his own. Then why did he still feel so utterly wretched? Why, at the very moment he had achieved all that he needed to turn the lie into a fact, did he feel it was more of a lie than ever before?

* * *

Joanna scarcely remembered the drive home. She was weighted down with guilt, unable to think about anything beyond the conversation that had just taken place and about how horribly wrong she had been about everything.

Laurence Bretton was indeed Valentine Lawe! His uncle
and
Sir Michael Loftus had confirmed it. The latter had held up Laurence’s latest play—a play Laurence had credited
her
with having inspired—and said it was a brilliant piece of writing, while Mr Templeton had said it promised to be as big a success as any of Laurence’s other plays.

Clearly she had been mistaken as to the nature of the conversation she had overheard between Mrs Bretton and her sister-in-law the night of Winifred’s engagement party. Or, as Mr Templeton had pointed out, she had missed some of the more salient parts.

Clearly, the
most
salient ones, Joanna reflected, and she deserved to lose Laurence’s good opinion as a result.

But, the awareness that she had made one terrible mistake only strengthened her resolve not to make another. Until a few minutes ago, she’d had every intention of accepting Captain Sterne’s proposal and of moving on with her life. But now, in light of her astonishing discovery, Joanna knew that was impossible. She
would
not
marry a man she did not love and turn her own life into a lie as a result.

‘James,’ she called to the driver. ‘Do you know where Captain Sterne lives?’

‘I do, my lady.’

‘Then take me there now,’ she said, staring blindly at the row of fine houses lining either side of the street. There had to be some other way of raising the money necessary to pay off the estate’s debts, some way that did not necessitate her sacrificing her pride and, more importantly, her heart in the securing of that goal. She was just going to have to find it—and pray her father and the rest of her family would understand and forgive her for it.

* * *

‘I’m sorry, Lady Joanna, but Captain Sterne is presently engaged,’ the gentleman’s butler informed Joanna when she handed him her card. ‘If you would care to wait in the drawing room—’

‘Thank you, but I would rather wait here,’ she said, and promptly sat down in the chair by the large palm.

The butler inclined his head and turned to carry her card upstairs to his master.

In the minutes that followed, Joanna tried to calm the frantic beating of her heart. There was no point in putting off what she had to do. She was not going to marry Captain Sterne. It was only fair that she tell him sooner rather than later.

She looked up at the sound of footsteps on the stairs. It was not the Captain she saw coming down, but a young man carrying a collection of drawings under his arm. He was not dressed like a gentleman of means. His jacket showed signs of wear, his boots were in need of a polish and, when he drew closer, Joanna noticed a stain on the collar of his shirt. But he smiled gamely as he passed and Joanna—upon noticing that the uppermost sketch under his arm was a very good rendering of an Egyptian temple—put out her hand and said, ‘I beg your pardon, but is that the Temple of Luxor?’

The young man stopped, a surprised blush darkening his already ruddy cheeks. ‘Yes, it is. How did you know?’

Joanna managed a tight smile. ‘I have an interest in the subject.’

‘It’s not a very good replica,’ the man acknowledged self-consciously, ‘but it was the best I could do from Mr de Forbin’s painting. Are you here for the interview?’

Joanna pulled her eyes from the drawing. ‘The interview?’

‘Yes. For the illustrator’s position. Apparently Lord Bonnington is planning an expedition to Abu Simbel next spring and is looking for an artist.’

‘Lord
Bonnington’s
expedition?’ Joanna said, a hard knot forming in the pit of her stomach. ‘Are you sure you have the right gentleman?’

‘I believe so. Captain Sterne told me about it last week,’ the gentleman said. ‘He came to pay a call on my father and happened to see a sketch I had done of St. Paul’s Cathedral. When he asked me if I was able to draw something Egyptian, I told him I probably could and he said if it was good enough, I should come and talk to him about the possibility of my going on the expedition with him.’

‘Really.’ Joanna stared at the drawing as the dreadful awakening sunk in.

Captain Sterne had lied to her. He had spoken to this young man
after
he had proposed to her and had interviewed him about taking her place on the expedition before she had given him her answer. Obviously, he had never intended that she should go with him to Egypt at all!

‘Lady Joanna! What a delightful surprise,’ Sterne said, appearing at the top of the stairs. ‘I wasn’t expecting you to call.’

‘No, I’m sure you weren’t,’ Joanna said, still trying to come to terms with what she had just learned. ‘But in the interim, I have been speaking with this gentleman, who told me he came to apply for the position of artist on Lord Bonnington’s expedition to Abu Simbel.’ She forced herself to smile. ‘I wasn’t aware there was a vacancy. Have you spoken to my...to his lordship about this yet?’

Please say no
, Joanna thought, praying her father had no knowledge of this underhanded endeavour.

Thankfully, the rush of colour into Sterne’s face betrayed him. ‘On your way, Mr Stocks,’ he barked at the young man.

Not surprisingly, the young man went.

Joanna took a few moments to gather her thoughts, afraid of what she might say if she did not. ‘Would you care to explain what’s going on, Captain Sterne? Or shall I just assume that Mr Stocks was to be my replacement on the expedition?’

‘Not at all. I simply thought it would be a good idea to have a back-up plan in case you decided, once we were married, that you did not wish to accompany us to Egypt,’ he said smoothly.

‘So it was already a foregone conclusion in your mind that I
was
going to accept your proposal.’

‘I saw no reason why you would not. Your father is in desperate need of financial assistance and I am in a position to give him that. I also expected that because you and I
would
be married by the time the expedition set off, you might have a change of heart and prefer to stay in London. That would have left the expedition in the lurch and you know as well as I do how difficult it is to find competent artists, never mind one of your calibre.’