The Glittering Lights (Bantam Series No. 12) (8 page)

The next three-quarters of an hour was to Cassandra one of the most interesting experiences she had ever had.

When Mrs. Langtry rose from the couch where she had lain with closed eyes, her hair-dresser had arrived to arrange her hair, and the dresser to get her elaborate gowns ready for the performance.

Cassandra saw that the mirror was electro-lighted to Mrs. Langtry’s own special design, and an ingenious arrangement of colours such as blue, red and amber could be obtained at will.

“This makes it easy,” Mrs. Langtry explained, “for me to tell how my gowns will look when I am on the stage.”

It was continually reiterated in the Press that Mrs. Langtry wore no make-up, but that, Cassandra saw, was untrue.

She deliberately contrived a very pale appearance by using only the faintest touch of rouge on her cheeks, and a powder which was sold in the shops with her name on it.

She out-lined her eyes, darkened her eye-lashes and eye-brows, and finally used a lip-salve sparingly on her mouth.

Cassandra was particularly interested because in the carriage on the way to the theatre, despite Hannah’s horrified protests, she had added a touch of colour to her lips and also used powder on her cheeks.

“Whatever are you doing, Miss Cassandra?” Hannah had exclaimed in a tone of horror. “What will people be thinking of you if they see you painted like an actress.”

“I am supposed to be an actress,” Cassandra had answered.

“And that’s nothing to boast about!” Hannah snapped.

“I have an uneasy suspicion that your sentiments are echoed by the majority of the public,” Cassandra answered.

Then she closed her ears to the long impassioned recitation of Hannah’s disapproval.

Now she noted how skilfully Mrs. Langtry enhanced her appearance while remaining both lady-like and overwhelmingly beautiful.

Finally, a quarter of an hour before the curtain was due to rise, Mr. Frederick Gebhard arrived.

Cassandra remembered reading that this young American had returned with Mrs. Langtry from New York.

Some of her father’s more disreputable papers which she was not supposed to read, such as
The Sporting Times
, known as “The Pink ’Un,” had made some pointed remarks concerning the amount of money the man they called a “Boudoir-Carriage Romeo” had spent on Mrs. Langtry.

Freddy Gebhard who had been bowled over by Lily Langtry’s beauty the first night they met, was four years younger than she was.

He was the son of a dry goods businessman, who had left him a yearly income of between eighty and ninety thousand dollars. Tall, clean shaven and elegant, his Fifth Avenue tailors rated him as New York’s “Best Dressed Man,” but he bought most of his clothes, which were always dark in colour, in London.

Freddy Gebhard had made the headlines by not only giving Lily Langtry his cheque book, but defending her physically against any admirer who tried to force his acquaintance upon her.

He had knocked out a man who had tried to introduce himself to Lily in St. Louis, and he was lionised by the local bloods during the rest of the week.

He had almost as much Press coverage in the American papers as Lily herself, and by the time Gebhard had gone with her on tour in a private railway-car he had built to her design, he was determined to marry her.

The railway-car advertised his infatuation. It was seventy feet long, painted blue, emblazoned with wreaths of golden lilies, encircling the name “Lalee.” Brass lilies decorated the roof.

The bath and bathroom fittings were in solid silver.

Lily had returned to England three years earlier in 1883 to try to persuade Mr. Langtry into giving her a divorce but her husband had categorically refused.

She had re-crossed the Atlantic to discover Freddy Gebhard still adored her. He installed her in a luxurious house in West 23rd Street, where they threw riotous parties which were headlined in all the newspapers.

Cassandra thought Freddy Gebhard had a rather weak face. At the same time he was undoubtedly good looking.

He shook her hand politely when they were introduced, but it was obvious that he had eyes only for Mrs. Langtry and was in fact wildly and overwhelmingly in love.

“Lily, my darling, you look more wonderful than I can tell you,” he said softly and bent his head to kiss her hand.

‘How sad they cannot be married,’ was Cassandra’s first thought.

Then she thought it strange that a married woman, even if she was an actress, could be on such intimate terms with another man.

Mrs. Langtry appeared, however, to be concerned only with her own appearance and her audience which awaited her in the theatre.

“Every seat is sold out!” Freddy announced.

“But of course!” Lily replied. “They told me when I arrived that people have been queueing since twelve o’clock this morning.”

She was already wearing the dress in which she was to appear in the first act.

Cassandra noticed how tightly it was moulded over her bosom and how the bustle at the back accentuated her tiny waist.

“You are so lovely,” she said impulsively. “It is not surprising everyone wants to see you.”

Mrs. Langtry smiled.

“Thank you,” she said with the ease of a woman who takes her compliments for granted.

Then turning to Freddy she said:

“Take Miss Standish to the Box, Freddy. She will sit with you during the performance, and then I have promised her we will take her with us to Lord Carwen’s party.”

“Yes, of course—delighted!” Freddy agreed.

Cassandra felt that he was disappointed that he would not be alone with his adored Lily, and resented the fact that she would accompany them even the short distance from the theatre to where the party was to take place.

“I hope I am not being a nuisance,” she said humbly. She knew even as she spoke that she did not care if she was, for she had every intention of going to the party where there was a chance she would be introduced to the Duke.

“No, of course not,” Freddy said politely but with an obvious insincerity.

He kissed both Lily’s hands and whispered something in her ear, before he escorted Cassandra down the long draughty passages and through the pass-door, which lay behind the stage, at the side of the auditorium.

An attendant ushered them into the stage-box.

For the first time Cassandra wondered apprehensively if there was anyone in the audience who might recognise her.

It was unlikely. Nevertheless, if any of her friends had come to London from Yorkshire, they would undoubtedly wish to see Mrs. Langtry’s play.

Cassandra was well aware of the scandal it would arouse if she were seen alone with a man in the stage-box of a theatre—most of all if she was accompanied by someone as notorious as Freddy Gebhard.

She solved the problem by moving to a seat against the partition so that, while she had the best view of the stage she was almost invisible to the audience.

If Freddy Gebhard thought it strange that she did not wish to make herself conspicuous, he did not say so.

He was only too pleased to take the centre of the Box.

He stood in the front of it looking at the audience, waving to a friend or two in the Stalls, looking up at the Gallery, until finally the people in the cheap seats realised who he was and started to clap.

This was obviously what he was waiting for; for he bowed, waved his hand and was almost childishly elated with his reception.

He sat down and said to Cassandra:

“They are beginning to know me as well over here as they do in New York. I have often said to Lily—we make a splendid pair!”

Cassandra smiled at him.

There was no need for her to say much. He was clearly content with his own appreciation of himself, and once again he bent forward so that the audience could have a good look at him.

Cassandra was glad when the curtain rose.

The play was well-written, thoroughly dramatic and depicted a feud between two older members of a respected aristocratic family and a reconciliation brought about by the love of two younger ones.

In the fourth Act Mrs. Langtry had to go on her knees and plead with her father to abandon his foolish schemes and save the old house.

Here, almost to Cassandra’s surprise, Lily Langtry proved herself a quite moving actress and she certainly carried the sympathy of the audience with her.

She was very touching when she cried:

“Help us! Help us! You are our last and only hope. We give up everything—but save, oh save my brother Percy!”

The applause rang out, the women in the audience wiped their eyes and there was curtain call after curtain call.

A great number of bouquets were carried onto the stage. Lily held in her arms one of the yellow roses which Cassandra guessed had been given her by Freddy.

After “God Save the Queen” Freddy hurried Cassandra back through the stage-door and they waited in the Dressing-Room, while Mrs. Langtry changed.

She came from behind the curtains wearing a grey satin evening-gown which made her look like a goddess. There was a necklace of enormous diamonds around her neck and diamonds glittered in her ears and round her wrists.

“Do I look all right?” she asked Freddy.

Cassandra saw him draw in his breath before he answered:

“You are more beautiful every time I look at you!”

“Then let us go to the party,” Mrs. Langtry exclaimed gaily. “Everyone who matters in the theatre world will be there and I have no wish for any of them to eclipse me!”

“No-one could do that!” Freddy said.

He kissed her shoulder passionately as if they were alone and Cassandra was not watching and feeling somewhat embarrassed.

She had sent her own carriage with Hannah to the flat she had rented in Bury Street.

“I’m not going to that place,” Hannah said angrily.

“Yes, you are!” Cassandra replied, “unless you wish me to come home alone in a hired cab, and goodness knows then what might happen to me!”

There was nothing Hannah could do after that but agree.

“Send the carriage away,” Cassandra told her. “We shall have to find a cab, but doubtless there is a night-porter who will get one for us.”

She had also told Hannah to wait for half an hour after she had gone into the theatre before driving away. There had always been the chance that Mrs. Langtry would accept the present and make arrangements for her to meet the Duke some other night.

Cassandra could only hope the meeting would not be too long delayed, but it seemed, she thought excitedly, as if everything was falling into place.

It was just luck there was a theatrical party that evening and that Mrs. Langtry had been pleased with the present which she thought had been sent to her by Sir James.

In Freddy Gebhard’s comfortable carriage, as they moved down the Strand, Cassandra said to herself:

‘This is where my play begins! The curtain is rising and I can only pray that I shall give a convincing performance.’

CHAPTER FOUR

Lord Carwen’s house was in Arlington Street and overlooked Green Park.

It was extremely impressive with a porticoed front-door and iron railings dividing the short drive-in from the pavement.

Cassandra entered behind Mrs. Langtry, and as she saw the brilliantly-lit chandeliers and the luxurious furniture which decorated the hall, she wondered a little apprehensively if there would be anyone at the party who would recognise her.

As she followed in the wake of Lily Langtry, she could see them both reflected in huge, gilt-framed mirrors, and she thought it would be difficult for them to remain unnoticed however large or important the party might be.

Mrs. Langtry’s grey gown from the front made her look like a Greek goddess and at the back she had a huge bustle supported by a satin bow which formed the small train.

Despite the wealth of diamonds around her neck and glittering in her hair and on her bodice, she looked both dignified and a lady.

Cassandra could not think the same about herself.

Her dress from Chasemore was lovely in its own way, but she knew she would never have dared to wear it as Cassandra Sherburn.

Of vivid green, almost as deep as an emerald, it was fashioned of tulle, ruched round the extremely low neck and over her shoulders.

The colour made her skin look strikingly white, whilst the very tight bodice revealed the curves of her young figure and her very small waist.

Tulle fashioned the enormous bustle even bigger than Mrs. Langtry’s—which billowed out behind her, cascading down in frill upon frill to the floor.

But what made the dress different from the type of gown Cassandra would have worn as herself was the fact that the tulle was strewn with tiny silver and green sequins which glittered and shimmered with every move she made.

It was also caught up at one side with an enormous bunch of artificial water lilies, and these too were speckled with sequins which looked at a distance as if they were dew-drops glistening in the light.

It was a gown that a leading lady could have worn for her entrance in the first Act, and would undoubtedly have stimulated a round of applause.

Cassandra had with some difficulty persuaded Hannah to arrange her hair in innumerable curls on top of her head, and amongst them she wore three diamond combs.

She also wore diamond ear-rings which she had been left by her Grandmother, but which on a young girl Sir James had thought too sophisticated.

There was the sound of music and then, just before they reached the Reception-Room, Cassandra had a last glimpse of herself in the mirror and smiled.

Her red lips certainly contributed to the flamboyance of her appearance. She had applied a little more salve to them in the dressing-room while she was waiting for Mrs. Langtry to change after the performance.

Her eyes did not need any additional artifice since her lashes were naturally so long and dark, and because she was excited at what was happening her eyes shone even more brightly than the sequins on her dress or the diamonds in her hair.

“Lily! Shall I say how overjoyed I am to see your beautiful face?” a deep voice exclaimed.

A man of about forty, rather large and overpowering, was raising Mrs. Langtry’s hand to his lips.

“I have brought a little friend with me,” Mrs. Langtry said. “I hope you do not mind?”

Cassandra felt the man’s eyes take in every detail of her face and her sensational gown.

“But of course, I am delighted,” Lord Carwen said. “Will you introduce me?”

“Miss Sandra Standish,” Mrs. Langtry said. “And this, dear, is your very land and generous host—Lord Carwen!”

Cassandra made a graceful curtsey.

“I hope Your Lordship will forgive me for coming uninvited to your party,” she said with a smile.

“I am prepared to forgive you anything, if you will dance with me later,” Lord Carwen replied.

He held out his hand to Freddy Gebhard.

“Delighted to see you, Freddy. I hope my party measures up to some of those which I hear you gave in America.”

Cassandra did not listen for Mr. Gebhard’s reply.

She was staring round the Ball-Room, her eyes alight with curiosity.

It was a beautiful room with huge chandeliers and decorated with fabulous pictures and very valuable mirrors.

It was in fact the type of room Cassandra had seen often enough in the homes of her father’s friends, but it was the occupants on this occasion who were unusual.

The men were all gentlemen, the majority of them of Lord Carwen’s age.

Many of them were obviously distinguished and they had an elegance which could be achieved only by an Englishman in evening-dress.

But the women were to Cassandra’s eyes quite fantastic!

‘It is extraordinary,’ she thought, ‘to see so many pretty women all together!’

Then she realised it was because, using cosmetics, they looked far prettier and far more attractive than their contemporaries in the social world who dared not employ such means to beautify themselves.

Eyes enlarged with mascara and eye-shadow, very pink and white skins, and laughing red lips made a picture which Cassandra could understand most men would find alluring and desirable.

Their gowns too were fashioned to attract attention.

Never had she seen so much naked flesh, such yards of tulle, so many sequins, or such a profusion of artificial flowers.

The majority of the women wore jewellery which Cassandra could tell at a glance was not real.

Nevertheless, it added to the glamour of their appearance.

She was so amused and interested in everything she saw that she gave a start when she heard Mrs. Langtry say beside her:

“As I expected, I see the Duke of Alchester over there. Let me introduce him, otherwise we may become separated in the crowd and then I should not have been able to keep my promise to you.”

Cassandra drew in her breath.

Mrs. Langtry swept ahead of her, and once again she followed in the wake of the grey bustle, moving through the throng of guests who seemed to be talking animatedly at the tops of their voices, or laughing with a kind of wild gaiety which almost shook the chandeliers.

For a moment Cassandra felt that she could not look at the Duke.

She felt a sudden shyness creep over her. She wanted to run away. Then she told herself she was being ridiculous.

This was what she had planned—this was what she had schemed and dreamed about. Now it was up to her! It was certainly not a moment for shyness or embarrassment. She had to convince the Duke that she was a gay, rather pushing young actress.

She had to amuse him ... to make him notice her!

Mrs. Langtry had stopped, and now Cassandra saw him, the man who had been in her thoughts ever since she was twelve.

He was far better-looking than his pictures suggested. He was no longer the thin, rather cadaverous boy she remembered in his white flannels and Eton-blue cap at Lords.

He was tall, broad-shouldered, and had an almost commanding presence which she had not expected.

She had somehow not imagined that he would have such natural dignity or would have a pride in his bearing which she sensed immediately.

It was obvious even in the grace with which he rose from the chair on which he was sitting to greet Mrs. Langtry.

“I expected to find you here, Varro,” Mrs. Langtry said.

“I am honoured that you should think of me,” the Duke answered.

As he spoke, Cassandra knew that she remembered his voice. There was some quality in it which she had never heard from anyone else—something she, in particular, found strangely moving.

“You have not been to see me in my new Play,” Mrs. Langtry said accusingly.

“I assure you that it is only because I have found it impossible to obtain a seat,” the Duke replied.

Cassandra watching him realised that his eyes twinkled as he spoke and when he smiled there was a dimple on the left side of his mouth.

‘He is wildly, overwhelmingly attractive,’ she told herself, ‘much more so than I had imagined! There cannot be a woman in the whole of London who would not try to marry him if he so much as looked in her direction!’

“You should not be so popular!” the Duke was saying to Mrs. Langtry. “They tell me there have never been such long queues as I see outside The Prince’s day after day.”

“You should have seen them in America,” Freddy Gebhard interposed, who had followed Mrs. Langtry and Cassandra across the room.

“Hello, Freddy!” the Duke exclaimed. “When are you going to find time to come and have a drink with me at White’s?”

“The next time that Lily doesn’t want me,” Freddy Gebhard replied.

“But I always want you,” Lily Langtry said softly.

“Then I withdraw my invitation,” the Duke said. “Who am I to interfere between two people who obviously enjoy each other’s company?”

He spoke quite seriously, but Cassandra could see that his eyes were laughing.

“And now, Varro,” Mrs. Langtry said, “I have someone with me who is very anxious to meet you. She has something to tell you which I expect you will find interesting.”

She turned towards Cassandra.

“Miss Standish, may I present the Duke of Alchester? Varro—this is Miss Sandra Standish, who I understand, is an extremely talented young woman.”

Cassandra put out her hand and, as the Duke took it, she had the strangest feeling that all this had happened before.

She could not explain it to herself. It was as if they were enacting an episode which had taken place, not once, but a dozen times, all down the ages.

“You have something to tell me?” the Duke said raising his eyebrows.

“Yes,” Cassandra answered and she was relieved to hear that her voice did not quiver. “But at the moment it would be impossible to make myself heard.”

Even as she spoke, the Band which had been playing when they first arrived in the hall, started up again.

It was a waltz and Freddy Gebhard said to Mrs. Langtry:

“This is one of our tunes.”

He did not wait for a reply, but put his arm round her and led her on to the centre of the room.

The Duke and Cassandra stood alone, facing each other.

“Will you dance with me first?” he asked. “I would like that.”

She felt herself quiver as he put an arm round her and hoped he would not notice. Then he was swinging her round the floor and she found he was easy to dance with and they seemed to be perfectly matched.

If she had wanted to talk to him, it would have been impossible.

The noise and laughter from the other guests were quite deafening, and the Band played louder than was usual at other parties which Cassandra had attended.

The dance was by no means decorous even for a waltz. It was in fact quite riotous and as it ended Cassandra moved from the floor to the other end of the room which seemed a little less crowded.

“Let us find somewhere where we can sit down,” the Duke suggested.

He put his hand under her arm with a lack of formality in which she knew he would not have indulged at a more formal Ball.

He led her out through a door, and she saw there were various Drawing-Rooms and Ante-Rooms leading off the room in which they had been dancing.

There was one which she guessed was a Writing-Room, beautifully decorated in soft colours with French furniture which must have been worth a fortune.

There was a sofa in front of the curtained window, the lights were discreetly low and there was the fragrance of hot-house flowers to scent the atmosphere.

The Duke led Cassandra to the sofa, and when she had seated herself he sat beside her, turning a little sideways so that he would look into her face.

“Who are you?” he asked, “and why have we never met before?”

“Surely that is a very conventional remark for someone like you?” Cassandra replied.

‘Why for me in particular?”

“Because you have the reputation of being original, dashing and very intelligent.”

“Good Heavens!” The Duke held up his hands in pretended horror. “Who has been telling you such a lot of lies about me?”

“In my profession,” Cassandra replied, “they chatter about you almost as much as they do about the productions in which they hope to appear.”

“I think you are being rather unkind to me,” the Duke said accusingly, but his eyes were twinkling. “Have I done anything to offend you?”

“On the contrary,” Cassandra said. “As Mrs. Langtry told you, I was very anxious to meet you.”

“Why?”

Cassandra hesitated a moment and then she said:

“For one frivolous reason and one serious one. Which will you have first?”

“The frivolous one!” the Duke replied. “At this sort of party one never wants to be serious.”

‘“Well ... the frivolous reason is that I have often wondered why someone as gifted as you are should find the theatre more amusing than anything else.”

She realised as she spoke she was being deliberately provocative. Yet she knew she had to hold his attention, to make him curious about her, or else she might lose him as quickly as she had found him.