I wondered why he spent so much time at Court when I was sure that his heart was at Eversleigh. But of course having lost his inheritance he would need to make a career for himself and perhaps he would do that at Court. At the same time he was concerned for Eversleigh. He wanted to bring young Edwin up that he might be worthy to undertake his duties.
All sorts of thoughts were whirling round in my mind—I refused to catch them and examine them. I didn’t want to. Some were wildly absurd … too ridiculous to consider for a moment.
But I wished I could stop thinking of Carleton Eversleigh.
My parents had another engagement and could not join us, so it was my father-in-law, Charlotte, Carleton and myself who rode to the playhouse in Lord Eversleigh’s carriage. It was an adventure in itself to ride through the London streets to the King’s House in Drury Lane. Those streets were full of noise and bustle. Carriages like our own were making their way to the playhouse and in them sat exquisitely clad gallants and patched and painted ladies. What a contrast they were to ragged beggars and those who lived by their wits. I saw them darting about among the passers-by, and I am sure many of the latter would be poorer by their purses before the night was out. The streets were ill-lit and mostly cobbled, dirty and unsavoury, and I should not have liked to be on foot and splashed by the filth which was thrown up by carriage wheels. I had never seen such a contrast of riches and poverty as there was on the streets of London.
“Never venture far on foot,” Carleton warned me. “You would not be safe for a moment.”
“I daresay,” I retorted, “that I could give as good an account of myself as anyone.”
“My dear,” put in Lord Eversleigh, “these beggars are skilled at their craft. They have a hundred villainies at their fingertips. There are trained bands of thieves roaming the streets.”
“The night watchmen, I hear, are of little use,” added Charlotte.
“You are right. They have become something of a joke,” replied Carleton. “Poor fellows, every night they take their lives in their hands.”
“What a dangerous place London is!” I cried. “I wonder why people set such store by it.”
“It is alive, Cousin,” said Carleton, fixing his eyes on me. They glowed with some emotion. Amusement, contempt, indulgence? I wasn’t sure. “I would rather face danger than stagnation. I am sure you would too.”
“Is it stagnation to live in quiet dignity?”
“Ha, you see, my lord, your daughter-in-law loves a discourse. I do not complain. I do myself. One of these days, dear cousin, we will thrash out the matter, for now, if I mistake not, we are turning into Drury Lane and you will have your introduction to the King’s theatre. This is His Majesty’s favourite, I do believe, and the Duke’s in Lincoln Inn does not enjoy the same patronage, for naturally fashion follows the King.”
As we alighted from the carriage, beggars pressed round us. I wanted to give them something, but Carleton had his arm through mine and drew me away.
“Never open your purse in the streets,” he whispered, “even though you have a protector.”
I disliked the way in which he said the word “protector,” but I could not protest as Lord Eversleigh and Charlotte would have heard and I thought might have wondered why I always wanted to take up Carleton’s words and contradict them.
I shall never forget my first sight of the interior of the playhouse. There was a magic about it and I guessed I was not the only one who felt this. We were in a box close to the stage, which gave me an opportunity to study the rest of the audience. There was a great deal of noise as patrons came in. There was the pit, which I should have felt not the best place to sit, for the roof above it was open and I imagined what would happen if the rain came in. The occupants of that part of the playhouse would have to scatter or be drenched. The middle gallery was slightly more expensive than the gallery above, which was now filling rapidly.
In the box opposite was a very fine lady in a mask, and with her an overdressed gentleman. The gentleman bowed as we entered and Carleton and Lord Eversleigh bowed back. The gentleman—if he deserved such a name—fixed his gaze on first me and then Charlotte and then came back to me.
“I hate these insolent men,” muttered Charlotte.
“Dear Cousin, that is Lord Weldon,” explained Carleton. “He thinks he does you an honour by gazing on you.”
“An insult more likely,” retorted Charlotte.
“His lady does not like it.”
“And who is she?” I asked.
“Don’t ask me. He changes mistresses every night.”
“Perhaps one day he’ll find his Scheherazade,” I suggested.
“She’ll need more than exciting tales to keep him, I do assure you.”
“At least she does not want us to see her face, since she is masked.”
“A fashion, Cousin.”
“Should we not have worn them?”
“You have no need to hide behind them. You are in respectable company. Weldon has his eye on you though. It would not surprise me if he seeks me out tomorrow with eager enquiries.”
“I hope you will reply to him in a suitable manner, and let him know that you consider his impertinence an insult to your family.”
“Dear Cousin, I will challenge him to a duel if that pleases you.”
“Duelling should be stopped,” said Lord Eversleigh. “It’s against the law in any case.”
“Agreed, Uncle, but although we ourselves might be guilty of insulting certain ladies, we must become incensed when insults are directed against our own.” Carleton was smiling cynically and I turned away from him, and looked below to where the orange girls with their baskets were trying to tempt the members of the audience to buy, and exchanging badinage with the men. There were scuffles as the girls were seized and some of the men tried to kiss them. Oranges rolled on the floor, and people trying to retrieve them scrambled about shrieking with laughter.
The place was filled with noise and the smell of none too clean humanity; yet it excited me. I was all eagerness for the play.
It was to be The Merry Wives of Windsor. Carleton told us that it had to be comedy. Nobody wanted tragedy anymore. They wanted laughter not tears. “Tears went out with the Roundheads.” They wanted frolics on the stage, not falling bodies. And what they wanted most was women on the stage. For so long men had taken women’s parts and although some like Edward Kynaston took women’s parts still, and looked so pretty on the stage that it was said many women fell in love with him and used to wait for him after the play and take him out in their carriages, it was the women who were now appearing on the stage who were largely responsible for its growing popularity.
Carleton told us how the King had gone to see Hamlet in which Kynaston was playing the Queen, and when the play was late in starting Charles demanded to know why. The manager, beside himself with anxiety, went to the royal box and explained: “May it please Your Majesty, the Queen is not yet shaved.”
His Majesty was highly delighted with the explanation and was in a particularly good mood which reflected throughout the playhouse and made a success of the play.