The Masked Heart

The Masked Heart - By Karla Darcy

Prologue - 1807

"An actress, my dear," Lady Yates said, "is merely a slut who can sing."

"Aunt Haydie!"

Lady Haydie Yates sniffed at the shocked expression on her niece's face. "This is no time for missish airs, gel. Might as well know what you're getting into before you make the first misstep."

Blaine Margaret Meriweather shifted uncomfortably on the satin settee and tried to face the older woman with a worldly air she was far from feeling. Smoothing the skirt of her black mourning gown, Blaine looked warily at the upright figure in the wing chair and tried not to flinch under the steely glance of the golden-hazel eyes so like her own.

"I realize, Aunt Haydie, what I propose would be considered outrageous by some, but I thought you, of all people, might have more sympathy with my idea. After all, you have always told me a woman should not be held back by the conventions of society."

"No need to quote me, Blaine. I am well aware of all my tiresome preaching." The sixty-year-old Haydie waved her blue-veined hand in a dismissing gesture. "I am not unalterably opposed to the plan but I must be sure you are aware of all the pitfalls to this freakish start. A young gentlewoman does not become an actress without losing a great deal."

"It seems to me, aunt, that there is little left to lose." Sadness tinged Blaine's voice and she swallowed back the rising lump in her throat.

"Thus speaks youth," Haydie said. "Believe me, child, there are things more important than money and land in the balance here. I cannot imagine what your father would think of such a decision."

"I can." A sad smile tugged at the edge of Blaine's generous mouth. "He would shout down the house while my stepmother Juliette would sniffle into a lacy handkerchief, her violet eyes awash with tears. Ah, Aunt Haydie, I miss them so."

"It was blessedly quick, child," the older woman said in bracing tones, then she snorted in annoyance. "A lot of trumpery that kind of statement but one must hold on to something. In all truth, I cannot believe that either your father or your stepmother suffered long after the carriage left the road. Your father was not one who would have been a cheerful invalid and Juliette was already terrified of growing old. She would have been devastated over any form of disfigurement. Perhaps my words are harsh, Blaine, but one can only deal with the present. They were a charming, improvident pair. And my brother's inability to think beyond today has landed us all in the soup."

Blaine sighed and leaned wearily against the back of the settee, noticing the worn spots on the satin upholstery. As her eyes roamed around the drawing room, she was aware that all of the furnishings needed attention. The room was clean enough. She had seen to that herself, but she ought to have considered redoing some of the coverings and adding new draperies. Now it was too late.

She had been in charge of the household, since she was fifteen, the year Valerian was born. Then her stepmother, having finally presented a male heir to her husband, demanded that they remove to London for the season. Blaine had been delighted with the responsibility of the estate and equally pleased to be with her half-sister Fleur and the new baby who were also left behind at Weathers. For six years, the three children had seen little of their parents except for Christmas and occasional houseparties. They had been happy years but now with the death of her father and stepmother, Blaine could see that their comfortable way of life was truly threatened.

"Now, child, tell me about this cork-brained scheme."

Haydie's voice interrupted Blaine's musings and she tried to gather her thoughts. Without hesitation, she declared, "I would like to go to London and become an actress."

"I heard that part of the plan," Haydie said dryly. "It's the rest that I'm waiting to hear."

"Well, to be perfectly honest, I haven't worked out any of the details." A puckish grin widened her mouth and she peered through a cloud of dark lashes at her formidable relative. "I have given our difficulties a great deal of thought and I truly believe that this might be the answer to our present situation. You must admit, Aunt Haydie, that if we are not in the River Tick, our ship of state is sinking fast."

"Cheeky gel!" The old woman's words were snapped but there was a twinkle in the wise, old eyes that did not go unnoticed.

Blaine's face sobered as she continued. "According to the lawyer, everything has been left in trust for Valerian until he is twenty-one. Val is only five now. For the most part the estate is self-supporting. I have gone over the books very carefully with Higgins, the estate manager. With stringent economies, we should all be able to survive but, in actual fact, we will live no better than our tenants for the next sixteen years. Worse, we will have nothing in reserve in case of some unlooked for casualty."

"I cannot believe Cedric arranged things so poorly!" Haydie reached out for the glass of sherry on the table beside her. She took a bracing sip then cocked her steel-gray head to the side as she stared at the portrait of her brother which hung above the fireplace. "On second thought, I can well believe it. At times, my dear, your father was a thundering lackwit. He assumed, like most of us, that he would live to his dotage."

Blaine's eyes rose to the portrait and she smiled. Her father was dressed in his hunting pinks, seated on a low stone wall, his hand on the head of his favorite hunting dog Knolly. In the background was Weathers, the country home of generations of Meriweathers. The warm golden tones of the Cotswold stones shone like a beacon at the end of the narrow, tree-shaded lane. The land around the house was flat, perched as it was on the edge of Salisbury plain in Wiltshire. Tears sheened Blaine's eyes at the thought that they might eventually be forced to sell the house which was Val's patrimony. Never! She vowed silently and pulled herself erect to face her aunt with determination.

"We need money, Aunt Haydie," she announced. "Our tenants depend on us to help them in an emergency. There are no dowries for either Fleur or myself and there is nothing for Val's schooling. Papa wanted him to go to Cambridge and for that he will need tutors. Our governess can hardly prepare him."

"You're right, my dear. Frau Puffentraub has been fine for you and now Fleur, but Val must go off to school," Lady Yates agreed. "I have wondered in the last few days if it might not be a kindness to release the good frau to find another position."

"Let Puff go? Oh Aunt Haydie," Blaine cried, a stricken look on her face as she thought of the sturdy little governess who for so many years had stood as mentor and friend.

"Buck up, child," Haydie said bracingly. "We'll manage. After all, I have my money."

"Oh no! Papa left that allowance to you and you mustn't even consider spending it on us."

"Save it for my golden years? A thoroughly lowering thought." Haydie snorted and took another hearty sip of the sherry. "Wish Ceddie had thought to leave you girls a dowry. That would be more to the point. Despite my allowance, there's not enough to scrape together to interest even a London Cit."

"For myself, I don't mind," Blaine said. "It's Fleur I worry about. She's going to be so beautiful, Aunt Haydie. Even at eleven, one can see her potential. Hair the color of sunshine and those lovely violet eyes, soft and velvety like pansies. With her beauty she could marry anyone and yet, by the time she's eighteen, we won't have enough for a season, let alone a dowry. It's an almighty shame."

Lady Yates smiled at the protectiveness of her niece for her half-sister. Blaine's mother had died when the girl was eight and, a year later, Cedric, anxious for an heir, married Juliette Montclaire, a young French émigrée. The motherless child had welcomed her new stepmother and was overjoyed at the birth of her half-sister Fleur. In the six years that followed, Juliette miscarried time after time and Fleur's care and entertainment fell primarily to Blaine. In Haydie's opinion, Blaine rather spoiled the girl but it was easy to do when faced with the angelic face and sweet temper of the child.

It was not that Blaine Margaret was a dowd. At twenty, Blaine was already a beauty. Her loveliness was far more classical, reminding one of an ancient Celtic princess. Her looks were not in fashion but Haydie suspected she would gain the title of "Incomparable" were she to go to London. She was tall with a gracefully rounded figure. Her skin was tanned instead of the sickly white that most debs preferred. She had high cheekbones, a wide mouth and enormous goldish-hazel eyes. These attributes alone would have made her quite noticeable but added to this was a thick mane of white blond hair that flowed down her back like a stream of satin. Once seen, she would not be forgotten.

The problem was that in Wiltshire the girl saw virtually no one. Haydie pursed her lips as she remembered chiding Juliette for not bringing Blaine to town for the season. She suspected the woman was slightly jealous of her stepdaughter, although to give the devil her due, she had never been outwardly unkind to Blaine. Treated her like a housekeeper and nanny but then the girl herself had accepted the role with joy. Blaine had little idea of her own possibilities in the marriage mart and now this foolishness.

"Why have you decided to become an actress?" Haydie asked abruptly returning to the original argument.

"Because I think I would be good at it and I am little fitted for any other sort of work."

"The thought of you working at all does not sit well with me, child."

"I know, Aunt Haydie," Blaine said, her voice soft with understanding. "But it is the only answer. We need money and I am young and healthy enough to try to earn it. I have given this a great deal of thought and I truly believe I have hit upon a solution. With my youth and appearance, I have little chance of a position as a governess or housekeeper. For a while I was considerably angry that my looks should count against me but then I realized that only in one profession would my appearance be a decided advantage."

"In point of fact, I can think of another profession," Haydie drawled, earning a blush from her discomfited niece. "Sorry, Blaine. My sharp tongue got the best of me. I shall try to be more circumspect in my comments. Pray continue."

"When faced with the realities of our situation, it would be truly missish of me not to consider such a step. Even if I could find some more respectable employment it would not improve our finances a great deal. A companion or governess usually receives no more than room and board. There is little employment open to a woman that could result in a good income." Blaine sighed heavily. She had given this a great deal of thought and hoped that her aunt would see the reasonableness of her decision. "The theatre seems the answer to my prayers. I think my appearance would gain some attention and I actually do have a talent for acting and singing. It will take some time but I truly believe I have a chance of being successful. Besides, Aunt Haydie, I see few alternatives."

In silence, Haydie raised her silver-rimmed lorgnette to better scrutinize the girl. "Are you fully aware of the kind of life the women of the theatre world lead?"

"Yes, ma'am." Blaine raised her chin, her eyes unwavering under the older woman's gaze. "I have heard talk."

"Lord love you, child! Talk indeed. The gentlemen of the town go to the theatres to pick out their latest light o'loves. The women are coarse, loose-moraled and pass through the men's hands like the cards in a gambling hell. Is this the sort of life you wish?"

"Of course not," Blaine said. "I have heard that some women conduct themselves properly. You told me yourself that Mrs. Siddons was quite acceptable."

"Unfortunately, Sarah Siddons is an exception. She is a woman of strong principles. Unlike most, she has been able to adhere to a strong liaison. She's been married for years and has three children. Of course now she is at least fifty, not a flighty chit of twenty. Temptation is easy to avoid if not offered," Lady Yates intoned ominously. "The moment you set foot on stage, there will be a lineup of gentlemen from Covent Garden to the Haymarket, all quite eager to initiate you in the pleasures of the boudoir."

"Aunt Haydie!" Blaine said, covering her flushed cheeks with her hands.

"Are you objecting to my general statement or to the fact that I label them pleasures?" Haydie asked. "After a week in London, I suspect you'll be hard pressed to force a blush to your cheeks."

"It doesn't have to be that way," Blaine said. "You told me yourself that if a woman behaves in a ladylike manner, then she would be treated as such."

"That is true in a drawing room, but not likely in a theatre."

"Aunt Haydie, can't you help me? I can only guess at the kind of situation that exists in the theatre. With Papa and Juliette away so often, I have not even been out much in Wiltshire society. I truly believe that my idea is a good one but I am the veriest of babes concerning London."

Blaine rose and paced in front of the older woman whose face was set in disapproving lines. She was silent for several moments then turned to face her aunt. "When you married Uncle Neddy, he was a soldier and against your family's wishes you followed the drum. I'm sure that army life was far different from the society you had been brought up in, yet you survived. In order for Val and Fleur to survive, I must go to London. Will you help me?"

"And if I refuse?" Lady Yates raised the lorgnette, her hazel eyes unwavering.

Blaine blinked under the harsh gaze but raised her chin in determination. "Much as I would hate to go against your wishes, Aunt Haydie, I am going to London."

There was silence in the room as the old woman attempted to outstare the young girl. Slowly a smile curled the edges of Lady Yates' mouth.

"Good show, my dear." Haydie relaxed in her chair, saluting the startled girl with her glass of sherry. "Come and sit down. And don't look so surprised. I would never condone a whim but, as it seems you are determined to set your feet to the boards, I would be sadly remiss in not giving you all of my assistance."

Blaine crossed the carpet in quick strides, hugging her aunt with enthusiasm. She collapsed on the couch in relief, well aware that, despite her strong words, without the woman's support she would never be able to consider such a venture. Lady Yates was an unconventional woman even in the enlightened year of 1807. With her advice, Blaine felt assured of success.

"It just so happens that I can give you some help," Haydie said, smiling benignly at the girl. "I had an Abigail who was quite mad about the theatre. Tate is working at Covent Garden as a dresser. I will send you to her and I will also send a letter to Sarah Siddons with whom I have some acquaintance. You could have no finer mentor. The woman is magnificent. On stage and off, she maintains the highest standards. Her friendship may afford you some protection but, as an additional insurance, I will send Sergeant McCafferty with you."

Sarge had been batman to Lady Yates' husband. He was well above the normal height with a build that would dwarf an elephant. The combination of a lantern-jawed face and heavily-lidded eyes of an indeterminate color tended to be extremely intimidating when set above an enormous bull neck. Blaine had loved the gruff servant, since she was a small child. For all his ferocious looks, he was a gentle giant. Although she would feel safe in his care, she hesitated.

"How can I take Sarge?" she asked. "He has always been in your household."

"I have decided to remain here with Fleur and Valerian," Haydie said calmly. "If you are off to London, someone must remain to fortify the battlements. No Friday-face, if you please, miss. This is not self-sacrifice on my part. My days of gallivanting are over. I have little enough to keep me occupied and besides I have found a real enjoyment in the children."

"I hadn't thought of how much I shall miss them," Blaine said, a quiver in her voice that matched the lost look in her golden eyes. "I hate to leave them after such a tragedy, but at least I can feel more at ease, knowing you will be here."

Having a fair knowledge of the risks her favorite niece would be taking, Haydie feared for the girl. Blessedly the young had little conception of the evil that predominated in the world. As she took in the innocent glow that surrounded Blaine, she had little doubt that her beauty would bring her to the notice of the London audiences. However it was this very radiance that would make her the target of the jaded rakes who flocked to the theatres, circling like birds of prey over a downed sheep.

Silence filled the room as the old woman stared thoughtfully up at the picture of her brother. Her mouth was pursed in displeasure and she tried not to show her anger at the realization of how his care-for-nothing attitude had led her niece to such a dramatic pass.

"No time for dark thoughts, child," Haydie said, swallowing a lump in her own throat. "Now is the time for planning."

"Naturally no one must know of your plans. It would be social disaster for both you and the children. You are too young to appreciate the scandal that would erupt if word of this became known. I cannot stress this enough and hope you will be discreet about your background when you arrive in London."

Blaine's eyes darkened at the thought of such a deception but she was wise enough to take her aunt's words to heart. "I will be careful, ma'am. But what about the children and the neighborhood?"

"It seems to me," Lady Yates continued, "that we shall have to put it about that you have gone to London to care for an aged, and no doubt crotchety, relative. Perhaps a cousin of your father's. The Meriweathers never did anything with any great success, except breed. Always whelped with the steady frequency of rabbits."

At this latest outrageous comment, Blaine fell into whoops of laughter. The amusement did much to encourage her for the coming adventure. Although part of her still feared the unknown, there was a core of excitement that she could not gainsay. There was an air of fantasy to the plan, almost as if she were going to a masquerade ball. She would hold to that thought and then she would not feel so shattered at the thought of parting from her family and all she held dear.