Part 22 (1/2)
But they'd always had very different temperaments. Grey was outgoing, interested in people and in solving problems. Peter had been more of a dreamer, enjoying art and music and, yes, the plays that were occasionally staged during house parties. He said slowly, ”I remember that even as a little boy, you enjoyed taking part in plays. The adults always found your earnestness rather charming. But your interest was serious even at that age, wasn't it?”
Peter nodded. ”I fell in love with acting the first time I stepped onto an improvised stage. I love the language, the drama, the larger-than-life characters. It's ...” The flow of words cut off and he sank against the chair behind him. ”It's impossible.”
”Have you had the opportunity to act in recent years?”
”Not as much as I'd like,” his brother admitted. ”But last summer I stayed with a friend up in Yorks.h.i.+re. There's a good-sized theater there, and the company manager did a special production of As You Like It with local people acting in many of the roles. That's the play with the ”All the world's a stage” speech. The idea was to get friends and neighbors buying tickets to see the show. I auditioned and was cast as Orlando.”
Orlando was the romantic lead, if Grey remembered his Shakespeare. With Peter's looks, he was a natural for such roles. ”Did the play do well?”
”Most of the acting was dreadful, but the manager, Burke, made pots of money.” Peter paused, then said shyly, ”After the last show, Burke took me aside and said that if I ever wanted to act professionally, there would be a place for me in his company. He knew I was a gentleman, but I auditioned as Peter Sommers so he didn't realize that I was heir to an earldom.” His mouth twisted. ”At least, I was then.”
”Which would you pick if you had a choice?” Grey asked. ”The earldom or being a successful actor?”
”Acting,” Peter said instantly. ”I wouldn't even have to be well known. A journeyman's career with steady work would be beyond my maddest dreams.”
”Then do it,” Grey said flatly. ”The parents won't be best pleased, but I will support you in this. And if they cut off your allowance, I'll see you don't starve.”
His brother's jaw dropped. ”You'd do that? You wouldn't be ashamed to have your brother become a common player?”
”I think you'd be an uncommon player.” Grey smiled ruefully. ”Ten years in a dungeon strip away a lot of ideas about what is proper. You were willing to do your duty as heir to Costain when that seemed necessary. Now that it isn't, I think you should do what you love. Even if you fail, better to try and fail than to spend your life wis.h.i.+ng you'd tried.”
”I won't fail,” Peter said intensely. ”I'm good, Grey. And I'll do whatever is necessary to succeed.”
Grey grinned. ”Am I forgiven for surviving?”
”Now I have even more reason to be grateful you're alive!” Peter was bubbling with delight. ”I'll write Mr. Burke and tell him I'm taking him up on his offer. It will be small roles, I'm sure, but a start.”
”I'm glad. Today Yorks.h.i.+re, tomorrow London!” Grey set aside the rest of his drink since it was now daylight, and brandy was a d.a.m.ned odd breakfast. ”I suggest you wait a few days till Father is stronger before announcing your plans.”
”I'll wait until I hear from Mr. Burke before I speak up. And if he's changed his mind, well, I'll find another theater manager to approach.” Peter c.o.c.ked his head to one side. ”What about you, Grey? Have you ever had secret dreams of what you want?”
Grey had never thought about it, but his answer was immediate. ”This.” He made a sweeping gesture with one hand. ”Summerhill. For as long as I can remember, I've known that I am Summerhill, and it is me. The land, the people, the responsibilities of the earldom. I'm even looking forward to sitting in Parliament and helping to steer the s.h.i.+p of state. There's nothing else I've ever wanted.” Except Ca.s.sie.
”Then it's a d.a.m.ned good thing you've returned from the dead,” Peter said with a grin. ”Because you'll make a much better earl than I would.”
Perhaps, perhaps not. But like Peter, Grey was determined to do what was necessary to succeed.
Chapter 36.
Ca.s.sie was awakened by a maid with a small pitcher of hot chocolate and a note from Grey. ”Would you like to go for a ride after breakfast? It's a perfect day to see Summerhill .”
She glanced out the window and saw the pale, clear suns.h.i.+ne of early spring. He'd promised her fine horses. She scribbled, ”Yes, please!” on the note and directed the maid to take it to Lord Wyndham. A good thing Kiri had found a riding habit, golden with dark brown trim, for Ca.s.sie's hastily a.s.sembled wardrobe.
After donning the das.h.i.+ng habit, Ca.s.sie headed downstairs for a proper breakfast. News of the earl's recovery had lightened the atmosphere. Lady Elizabeth had been staying at Summerhill since her father's injury, but now she looked forward to going home. Peter positively beamed at Ca.s.sie, and Grey greeted her with proper formality while his eyes made wicked suggestions.
Lady Costain had been with her husband, but she came down to the breakfast parlor to say, ”Costain wants to meet you, Miss St. Ives.”
”Is he strong enough for visitors outside the family?” Ca.s.sie asked, hoping she didn't have to meet him.
”He is much stronger, and quite firm about meeting you,” the countess replied.
No escape there. ”Then it will be my pleasure,” Ca.s.sie murmured.
As she rose, Grey said, ”I'll go with you. I haven't seen him yet this morning.”
Ca.s.sie headed for the steps, grateful for Grey's company. As they climbed the wide steps side by side, he said, ”You look very lovely in this gold habit.”
”Lady Kiri's sister has enough red in her hair that we can wear similar colors,” Ca.s.sie explained. Dropping her voice, she asked, ”How should I act with your father?”
He gave her a warm smile. ”Just be your lovely self, Catherine.”
She supposed calling her Catherine was a strong hint. They entered the master's bedroom. For a man who had been tossing the dice with St. Peter the day before, the Earl of Costain was looking very well. He was propped up in bed by pillows and dictating instructions to his secretary.
He was also a remarkably fine-looking man, with the family good looks molded by years of authority. There was humor and intelligence in his eyes as he dismissed the secretary to concentrate on his visitors. Grey would look very like his father someday.
”Come closer to the bed,” Lord Costain ordered. ”So it really is you, boy. I wondered if I was hallucinating last night.”
”Not at all, sir.” Grey took his father's hand with heartfelt, wordless emotion. ”I surprised myself with my tenacity.”
”I can't recall all you told me last night, so I'll hear more about what happened later.” There was a glint of moisture in the earl's eyes as he held his son's hand. His gaze moved to Ca.s.sie. ”But now I wish to meet your future countess. You're right, she's pretty despite the red hair, but you didn't tell me her name. Introduce us.”
”Sir, allow me to present Miss Catherine St. Ives.” Grey smiled at Ca.s.sie. ”I'm sure you've deduced that this is Lord Costain, Ca.s.sie.”
Before she could respond, Costain exclaimed, ”Good G.o.d, surely you must be Tom St. Ives's daughter?”
She inhaled sharply. ”You knew my father?”
”Indeed I did. We became friends at Eton, and remained so until his untimely death.” The earl shook his head. ”I was there the night he met your mother. What a stunner she was. We were all madly in love with her.” He looked nostalgic for a moment before adding, ”Of course, that was before I met my wife, who drove all other women from my mind.”
Ca.s.sie pressed her hand to her chest as her breathing constricted. She hadn't expected her distant, half-forgotten past to come to shocking life. ”Did you hear what happened to my parents and the rest of my family?”
The earl nodded sadly. ”A great tragedy. d.a.m.n the French revolutionaries! I knew some of your Montclair relations, too. Fine people even though they were French. By what miracle did you survive?”
”I was out with a nurse when the house was burned down,” she explained. ”But I could be an imposter, you know.”
Costain laughed. ”Nonsense. You've got the St. Ives red hair, and you have a great look of your mother, too.” He offered her his hand. ”Well done, Grey. I'm honored to see the St. Ives blood joined with the Sommers family. I'm even reconciled to redheaded grandchildren.”
Ca.s.sie took his hand as she fought back tears. She barely managed to say, ”Thank you, my lord.”
”There now, I've made you cry.” Costain released her hand and settled back in his pillows, looking tired. ”Grey, take her off and make her smile again. And send your mother in. I miss her.”
Eyes concerned, Grey offered Ca.s.sie his arm and led her away. Outside the room, he ordered the secretary to send for his mother. Then he led Ca.s.sie downstairs and into the empty salon. As soon as the door closed, he wrapped his arms around her. ”d.a.m.n, Ca.s.sie! I'm sorry you were upset like that. I had no idea my father had known your parents.”