Exit The Actress_ A Novel Part 6

"Do we?"

"If the king would throw out his mousy, pandering, pompous, self-serving Council, then no, we wouldn't. But he is too afraid of going the way of his father to refuse them this absurd war. Oh, excuse me, Mrs. Gwyn, but I really must..." He pushed his chair back from the table and deftly slipped off into the crowd.

"Jane," said Henry Harris, the tall, lightly built actor from the Duke's (permanently condemned to second leads but quite good, I understand), as Johnny left. "He has just seen Jane, who has been ... away."

"Jane? Jane Russell, the tavern maid?"

"Ha! Tavern maid-very genteel. Yes, Jane Russell, although bar-keeping is not her primary profession, but I would never expect someone so deliciously protected as you to know that."

I looked at him in dumb wonder, my mouth hanging open like a broken door. Protected? Protected? Is that how I appear now that I enter the room on Hart's arm? I was not about to apprise him of my intimate understanding of that profession and so laughed at his obvious and not particularly clever remark. Is that how I appear now that I enter the room on Hart's arm? I was not about to apprise him of my intimate understanding of that profession and so laughed at his obvious and not particularly clever remark.

I was sleepy and a bit tipsy (Johnny Rochester had given me rum) and thoroughly ready to take off my pretty but pinching shoes. Hart walked me home and, at the end of our lane, kissed me sweetly. I allowed him to do so, and it was not, in truth, unpleasant. unpleasant.

Tuesday Hart told me tonight that Jane Russell has been taking the mercury cure for the French pox-a wh.o.r.e's curse. Mercury baths are said to be hideously painful and are often not successful. I worry for Rose! I shared my fears with Hart tonight, and he listened carefully and questioned me thoughtfully. It made me like him very much.

Getting somewhat used to kissing and have taken to stuffing a handkerchief up my sleeve to discreetly wipe my mouth when he is through. I have found that there is no point in wearing the berry lip paint that Peg gave me, as it just winds up all over both of us-messy. I cannot in truth say that I like like the kissing, but I do enjoy the affection and protectiveness that come over him afterwards. What do the kissing, but I do enjoy the affection and protectiveness that come over him afterwards. What do I I feel? Not great feel? Not great pa.s.sion, pa.s.sion, certainly, but not dispa.s.sion, either-curious. certainly, but not dispa.s.sion, either-curious.

Early, six a.m.

I heard Rose come in just as it was getting light. Instead of readying for bed, she came and sat in the window-seat.

"Rose?"

"She asked me. Madame Ross. She kept asking me..." Her voice trailed off. This is how she has been lately, faraway and incomplete.

"Asking you what what?" I prompted.

"About you. She wanted you. Sisters are very popular, you see."

Oh. Oh, I did see. "And you said?"

"No. I just said no."

Later Hart has offered to give the commissions for the new costumes to Rose! She must sew two sets of green livery and one blue satin gown for Ophelia. Her designs are breathtaking, and her st.i.tching is exquisite; he will not be disappointed.

When I Spend Time with Mr. Hart

Wednesday, January 13 (unseasonably warm) Hart directed his coachman, Hugh, to take us to the river. We walked through the infamous riverside pleasure gardens at Foxhall, where illicit lovers are known to make use of the many private nooks and concealing hedges. Everywhere we looked were couples walking hand-clasped, or embracing under the wintry trees. I looked away, my cheeks flaming with embarra.s.sment. Hart seemed unperturbed and loudly called out to acquaintances. He did not, not, however, get so close as to require an introduction, I noticed. He slipped my mittened hand in the crook of his arm as we ambled through the criss-crossed covered pathways, where you can find gla.s.shouses; festive hawker's stalls selling roasted nuts, cider, pastries, meats, and fruit; and pretty views of the river at each turning. I was surprised at how comfortable I felt in his company. We laughed easily (his: a great rolling baritone; mine: I fear, a sort of wild goat noise) and gossiped about the company: Becka's efforts to ensnare an unenthusiastic young viscount; Michael's troublesome gout, worse this winter; Lizzie Knep's complicated menage with her invalid, gambling husband, her ever visiting cousins, and her philandering lover; Sam Pepys, who is however, get so close as to require an introduction, I noticed. He slipped my mittened hand in the crook of his arm as we ambled through the criss-crossed covered pathways, where you can find gla.s.shouses; festive hawker's stalls selling roasted nuts, cider, pastries, meats, and fruit; and pretty views of the river at each turning. I was surprised at how comfortable I felt in his company. We laughed easily (his: a great rolling baritone; mine: I fear, a sort of wild goat noise) and gossiped about the company: Becka's efforts to ensnare an unenthusiastic young viscount; Michael's troublesome gout, worse this winter; Lizzie Knep's complicated menage with her invalid, gambling husband, her ever visiting cousins, and her philandering lover; Sam Pepys, who is always always in the tiring rooms. "He wears his in the tiring rooms. "He wears his spectacles spectacles so he can get a better look!" I laughed. We spoke of everything except us-and the company is currently rife with gossip about so he can get a better look!" I laughed. We spoke of everything except us-and the company is currently rife with gossip about us. us.

Under a leafless mulberry tree, we sat on a turfed bench sharing a mug of steaming chocolate with snow cream. Abruptly jumping up and entering a gla.s.s-house, Hart returned with a white winter rose for me. I tucked it into the boned bodice of my new cloud-grey gown.

Without discussion, Hugh drove us to Hart's enormous house in Maiden Lane. Once there, Hart looked at me apprehensively. "Only if it would please you, Ellen."

"Would it please you you very much, Hart?" I asked, teasingly. very much, Hart?" I asked, teasingly.

"Very much," he said gravely.

At that I burst into fits of giggles. "Oh Hart, you are so very good, aren't you?"

"Only to you, my mouse," he said, laughing, and with a light heart he bore me up to his bedroom.

Later-at home Not terrible, but much more vigorous vigorous than I had imagined. He was tender and attentive. He declared himself "my truest heart." He asked me to call him Charles, but I find it impossible and have settled on just "Hart." With his proud broad chest he does resemble a hart, although much less rustic. than I had imagined. He was tender and attentive. He declared himself "my truest heart." He asked me to call him Charles, but I find it impossible and have settled on just "Hart." With his proud broad chest he does resemble a hart, although much less rustic.

Sweetly, he cleaned me up afterwards with warm soapy water and carefully tucked me into the carriage with plenty of cus.h.i.+ons and coverlets, instructing Hugh to go slowly, slowly, anxiously clutching my hand. anxiously clutching my hand.

The berline was far too broad for our little alley. I alighted at the end of the lane and gingerly walked home. Gently lifting our sticky latch, I let myself in. Grandfather had waited up for me. The fire had nearly died out. Jeffrey lifted his head and licked my hand before resuming his snooze.

Without preamble, Grandfather asked, "Do you care for him?" I felt he had long been rehearsing this question. He continued, "Despite your great-aunt's misgivings, I can can believe that there is much good in this life you have found ... as long as you are not ... believe that there is much good in this life you have found ... as long as you are not ... distressed distressed by this man's attentions." by this man's attentions."

I busied myself hanging my cloak and scarf upon the peg. At last, turning back to face him, I replied, "Mr. Hart is a good man, Grandfather. He cares for me sincerely and I will be ... safe safe in his care." I sounded more confident than I felt, and I did not quite answer his question. In truth, I was not sure of the answer myself, but I wanted to rea.s.sure him of my present contentment. I think I knew where his deepest concerns lay. "Are you ... concerned that I will follow in Rose's ... in his care." I sounded more confident than I felt, and I did not quite answer his question. In truth, I was not sure of the answer myself, but I wanted to rea.s.sure him of my present contentment. I think I knew where his deepest concerns lay. "Are you ... concerned that I will follow in Rose's ... profession profession?" I hedged.

Outside, I heard the night watchman calling the hour and declaring the king's peace. Eleven o'clock.

Grandfather sighed, "Ellen, let us call a spade a spade. Your sister, whom I love sincerely, is a common wh.o.r.e, and I could not wish such a life for you. You have not the temperament, and I have not the heart."

I s.h.i.+fted uncomfortably, "I have no plans to become-"

"I'm sure Rose did not intend to become ... no, no." He shook his head, interrupting his own train of thought. "I know that you could not give your body without your affection. You are too much your father's daughter for that."

At that, I looked up, surprised, for Grandfather so rarely mentions his lost son. "Am I really like him? I know so little of my father," I said cautiously, the name sounding unfamiliar on my tongue, not wanting to press, knowing his loss still pained Grandfather.

"Oh, my girl. You have his neat bright looks, his quick wit, and his pa.s.sionate nature. People are drawn to you, the way that they were drawn to him. All his life he was very much loved, and now he is still very much missed. Your mother can hardly breathe for want of him, and I ... I think of him every day." Then, recovering himself, he said gruffly, "Now, no more questions, that is all much in the past. My concern is that you are cared for, and happy-and you are. That was all I needed to know."

Now in my own bed, I hug my secret close. Not like Rose, I tell myself. Not like Rose. I will be treasured. I will be cherished. I will be faithful to just one one man, and I will love and appreciate him as best as I can. I do man, and I will love and appreciate him as best as I can. I do like like him very much. That is something. That is a great deal. That is surely different from a common wh.o.r.e, isn't it? him very much. That is something. That is a great deal. That is surely different from a common wh.o.r.e, isn't it?

January 25, 1664-Theatre Royal (The Indian Queene, first performance) Not such a secret, it seems. This morning, after rehearsal, Becka cornered me in the tiring rooms. "That gown is lovely," she said in honeyed tones. (Another new gown from Hart, this one cut low after the French fas.h.i.+on, in pear-green taffeta, edged in cream Venice new gown from Hart, this one cut low after the French fas.h.i.+on, in pear-green taffeta, edged in cream Venice pointe, pointe, and beneath it is a and beneath it is a beautiful beautiful fluffy petticoat.) "Is it new?" she asked, with false innocence. fluffy petticoat.) "Is it new?" she asked, with false innocence.

"No," I lied. "It was my sister's before me."

"Oh, Ellen," she chided. "We all know know it is new, and we all it is new, and we all know know who gave it to you." who gave it to you."

How do they all know, and why do they all care? Gossip is much less fun when I am the topic. No idea how to stop these rumours. So exasperating.

Later-in the tiring rooms "I swear I didn't tell." Teddy held up his right hand in a mock oath. "Anyway, why are you so b.l.o.o.d.y concerned? It is just b.l.o.o.d.y Becka, after all." Teddy dislikes the Marshall sisters.

"Yes, but if it is Becka, then it is Nan, too. I just don't like people knowing. Knowing knowing. Knowing that I go to his house. That we-" that I go to his house. That we-"

"What you mean is that you don't like people talking. Talking about you going to his rooms, and what you do once you get there," said Teddy, going straight to the heart as usual. "In any case, I don't see how it could stay a secret for long, not with the way he moons around after you."

"Shh!" There were others in the tiring room.

"I think it's sweet, and your gown is is pretty," chimed Peg from her dressing table. pretty," chimed Peg from her dressing table.

"Oh! Is there anyone who doesn't know?" I wailed, quickly unhitching my skirts, concealing my beautiful petticoat.

"Know what?" asked Theo, entering the tiring room. "Teddy, have you seen my boot buckles? Anne s.h.i.+ned them, and I thought I put them on the vanity, but somehow already I seem to have-"

"Here," Teddy rooted around and produced the missing buckles. "They were under Rob's wig." Theo is always losing everything. everything. "Know about Ellen and "Know about Ellen and you know who, you know who," he finished in a noisy stage whisper.

"Teddy!" I protested.

"I didn't actually say it!" Teddy countered amiably.

"Oh, yes, Anne told me," Theo said absently. "You two seem to get on so well. I think it is lovely, my dear."

"Anne!" I screeched, "How did Anne Anne know?" know?"

"Oh, sweetheart"-Peg shot me a pitying glance-" everyone everyone knows. It is not such a bad thing, after all," said Peg, checking her pale blond wig in the mirror (she is on this afternoon). "He seems gone on you, and he is a major shareholder and really is the knows. It is not such a bad thing, after all," said Peg, checking her pale blond wig in the mirror (she is on this afternoon). "He seems gone on you, and he is a major shareholder and really is the star star of the theatre. It of the theatre. It could could be Teddy here, who is just a lowly-" She ducked as Teddy sent a powder puff flying in her direction. be Teddy here, who is just a lowly-" She ducked as Teddy sent a powder puff flying in her direction.

"Oh really, Teddy!" exclaimed Theo, who suffered a direct hit. I giggled in spite of myself.

Note-Hart has insisted I give up working for Meg. "Why should you tire yourself out peddling fruit when I can easily provide for you?" he asked genially, erasing the structure of my life. He is giving me a generous weekly allowance that will support Mother and Grandfather and Rose as well as afford me any luxury I could wish.

"But surely I will be earning a salary as an actress soon?" I hinted leadenly. He did not respond.

WHITEHALL, L LONDONTO OUR SISTER, P PRINCESSE H HENRIETTE-ANNE, D d.u.c.h.eSSE D' O ORLeANSFROM H HIS M MAJESTY K KING CHARLES IIJanuary 25, 1664 There you see! A boy! A healthy boy! You did it, my darling. As a princess, as a d.u.c.h.ess, as the Madame-it is your greatest duty, and you have fulfilled it. Philippe Charles, an auspicious name; I am deeply touched. Of course I will stand as G.o.dfather. I am forever your, Charles Note-My poor queen wept upon hearing the news. She is most pleased for you but too overcome to write at present. Dr. Fronard prescribed a restive tonic of juniper and feverfew to help her sleep. Our own lack of such happy news is breaking her heart.

Another-Thank you for the snuff, it was very well received here. Could you also send some gold sealing wax-the kind that you use on your letters? There is none to be got in this town.

January 25-Drury Lane (late) My family is impossible! Mother has already spent all all of my week's allowance on drink (I had to confess my penury to Hart-very embarra.s.sing), and Rose still insists on staying on with Madame Ross. I had hoped she would turn her hand to full-time sewing, but she has refused. "The work's not steady enough, Ellen." She shrugged. "Besides, Lewkenor Lane is what I know." Hopeless. of my week's allowance on drink (I had to confess my penury to Hart-very embarra.s.sing), and Rose still insists on staying on with Madame Ross. I had hoped she would turn her hand to full-time sewing, but she has refused. "The work's not steady enough, Ellen." She shrugged. "Besides, Lewkenor Lane is what I know." Hopeless.

When We Endure a Great Loss

Tuesday January 26-Will's Coffee-house (rain and fog) The morning began like any other: "We must have another one soon, soon, Dryden!" said Hart, waving his toast for emphasis. Dryden!" said Hart, waving his toast for emphasis.

"Not too soon," cautioned Tom, stroking Kitt's folded ears.

"Well, that is good to hear, as I have not yet started on another play. I only finished Queene Queene last week!" said John Dryden, dramatically putting his hand to his brow. He is a slight, round-faced, mannered man, given to theatrical gestures. last week!" said John Dryden, dramatically putting his hand to his brow. He is a slight, round-faced, mannered man, given to theatrical gestures.

"Ugh, quel desastre quel desastre!" said Teddy dramatically. "Three weeks of script changes!" I looked at Dryden, who did not seem the least apologetic for the turmoil he has caused in the last month. He was wearing the most astonis.h.i.+ng canary-yellow hat, complete with ostrich plumes of script changes!" I looked at Dryden, who did not seem the least apologetic for the turmoil he has caused in the last month. He was wearing the most astonis.h.i.+ng canary-yellow hat, complete with ostrich plumes and and small feathers small feathers and and velvet ribbons velvet ribbons and and gold b.u.t.tons gold b.u.t.tons plus plus an enormous blond periwig with ringlets almost reaching his waist. He looked like a frosted lemon wedding cake. He is not a tall man, and I feared he might crumple under the weight of this complicated confection. He was holding his coffee cup in the most curiously affected way, with his smallest finger arched awkwardly in the air. Did he think it elegant? His new play, written with his esteemed brother-in-law, Mr. Robert Howard (whom he never seems to mention), is a raging hit, and I know that Hart wants him to write him a significant heroic role in the next one, but is tactfully waiting for Dryden to suggest it first. an enormous blond periwig with ringlets almost reaching his waist. He looked like a frosted lemon wedding cake. He is not a tall man, and I feared he might crumple under the weight of this complicated confection. He was holding his coffee cup in the most curiously affected way, with his smallest finger arched awkwardly in the air. Did he think it elegant? His new play, written with his esteemed brother-in-law, Mr. Robert Howard (whom he never seems to mention), is a raging hit, and I know that Hart wants him to write him a significant heroic role in the next one, but is tactfully waiting for Dryden to suggest it first.

"Is it true they are queuing up already?" Teddy reached for a second slice of pie. "Mmm, this is delicious. Theo, you must have some."

"No, no, I am all right," said Theo quietly, sitting beside me, closest to the fire.

"Darling, you have hardly been eating and are withering away. Isn't Anne feeding you?" Teddy clucked automatically. As Teddy lives with the Bird family, he well knows that Anne keeps a hearty table, easily feeding him as well as Theo, young Theo, Eliza, Michael, and their new baby. Teddy married two years ago, but his young wife, whom we never see, seems to be forever visiting her parents in the country.

"Yes," said Tom, with contained pride. "They have been outside the theatre since nine, and the chief constable called just before I left to discuss the troublesome traffic congestion we are causing."

Dryden took another dainty sip, crooked finger still hanging in the air. Yes, I decided, he must think it is elegant. His heavy curls bobbed as he spoke. "Ah ... I have been thinking about this problem-"

I sat back in my great chair, warmed by the fire, and let my thoughts drift away. This conversation did not require my attention, as it seemed as if my stage ambitions were to end in Hart's bed. Since I became his mistress, all talk of my famed debut has vanished. Ah well, so long as I am warm and dry, what matter if it happens sooner or later?

"Theo, Theo!" I suddenly heard Teddy cry anxiously, leaping from his chair.

Alarmed, I came back to the room with a jolt. "Theo?" I asked, kneeling beside him, ignoring the commotion around me. I gently took his hand in mine. His head had pitched forward oddly, and he looked down at me with strange, clouded eyes.

"Anne," he said simply.

"No, it is Ellen. Dearest, we will find Anne and get you home." I felt Hart's solid bulk behind me. His hands were firm on my shoulders.

He said in a low and steady voice, "Tom has already gone to fetch his personal physician, and Dryden's gone to bring his carriage from the theatre. Teddy and I will stay here with him. Quickly, go now and find Anne."

"Yes," I said, gathering my skirts and throwing on my cloak. I squeezed Theo's hand once more and firmly kissed his cheek.

"You know where it is?" called Hart. "Katherine Street!" But I was already out the door.

I knew just where it was. The snug and happy yellow house with the blue door. I ran through the grey streets until I found it.

Wednesday, January 27, 1664-one in the morning Hart has finally brought me home to Maiden Lane to sleep for a few hours. Although I doubt if I can sleep. Dr. Bangs says Theo has had an apoplexy, and he will not survive it. How calm and accepting I sound, and most likely that is how I appear to others, but it is so untrue. I hurry and prepare remedies of egg whites, orange water, and liquorice and soothing poultices of relaxing herbs in the hope of relieving the horrible constriction in Theo's limbs. Anne applies them with diligence, but we both know they are of no use. I just need to do do something, as does she. In truth, we are just waiting. something, as does she. In truth, we are just waiting.

Anne-the only word Theo has spoken since this nightmare began.

Will Cartwright stood in for Teddy tonight, even though he is far too old for the role and does not know the lines. He carried the script onto the stage with him. Teddy would not be persuaded to leave Katherine Street. He hovers outside the door to the sickroom. He is also waiting.

Anne sits beside the bed and murmurs into her husband's ear. He senses her there and rests easy with her beside him. Eliza keeps busy, bringing victuals, endless cups of coffee, canary wine, and small beer to the many friends crowding into the little sitting room. Michael watches over her anxiously. Everyone returned after the performance. Young Theo plays with baby Elisabeth, who at nearly a year old is beginning to talk.

Wednesday-midday "Anne," Theo said clearly, opening his eyes and looking at his wife. Theo said clearly, opening his eyes and looking at his wife.

"Yes."

"Anne," he said again, with a lifetime of tenderness. he said again, with a lifetime of tenderness.

"Yes," she answered, gently smoothing his hair from his brow.

He closed his eyes again, and slept.

Wednesday, January 28, 1664-quarter past nine in the evening At last Anne came out of their bedroom and shut the door behind her. It was the first time she had left that room since Tom and Teddy first laid Theo on their bed. Teddy, white-faced with pain, needed only to look at her to know. Theo died tonight, in the happy yellow house, privately and quietly beside his Anne.

Actress Ellen

When I Protect My Secret Joy