A Kiss from the Heart by Barbara Cartland Read Free Book Online

hat.
    â€œBut your outer garments, Robert – ”
    For a second, the Earl wondered if she had guessed what his plans were.
    â€œI will send for Monkhouse. This old cloak needs pressing and my hat needs sponging.”
    â€œVery well, goodnight, darling. And thank you for a wonderful evening!”
    She kissed his cheek before walking upstairs. He waited until he heard her bedroom door close and then he proceeded quickly to the study.
    Inside he pulled the bell to summon Monkhouse, who soon appeared with a bow.
    â€œMy Lord?”
    â€œMonkhouse, I shall be going out again shortly. Do not wait up for me. Oh, and I would appreciate it if you did not inform my mother that I am not here. Should she ask after me, which is unlikely, I am not to be disturbed.”
    Monkhouse’s implacable face did not register any emotion. Since his Master had returned from India, he had grown accustomed to many strange requests and nocturnal wanderings.
    â€œVery good, my Lord. Shall I ask the coachman to bring the carriage back round to the front?”
    â€œNo, I will hire a Hackney cab in the street.”
    â€œThen I shall bid you goodnight, my Lord.”
    He waited a further ten minutes before he made for the front door. Hiscock was not around, so he slipped out without being noticed.
    He walked briskly down Brook Street and found a Hackney cab even before he had reached Davies Street.
    â€œThe Lyceum ,” he shouted up to the driver.
    The cabbie cracked his whip over his pair of horses and the cab shot off towards The Strand.
    *
    Arriving at the stage door, the Earl saw that there was a quite a throng crowded around it.
    He smiled as he noticed a few fresh-faced young men. He also recognised a Duke whom he knew only very vaguely, but the two men simply nodded at each other and did not pursue further exchange.
    At last he managed to push his way to the front and hailed the stage doorman.
    â€œGood evenin’, my Lord!” he called out in cheerful anticipation of pocketing the silver guinea the Earl always slipped him. “Miss Armitage’s dressin’ room is just three flights up on the left. Door number twelve.”
    â€œThank you, Brown,” he said, grateful to be free of the crush outside.
    He was soon on the correct floor and pushed open the glazed-oak doors that led to a corridor full of dressing rooms.
    Constance was playing the lead role in Mrs. Henry Wood’s East Lynne as Catherine, the ill-fated heroine who runs away with her lover only to spend the remainder of her days regretting her decision of leaving her two children with her abandoned husband.
    The Earl had dismissed the production as women’s nonsense and had refused to watch a single performance, a fact that had irked Constance a great deal.
    Pausing outside dressing room number twelve, the Earl adjusted his top hat and white cravat. He wished he had changed out of his sombre mourning suit, but it was now too late.
    He knocked softly on the door twice and waited.
    â€œCome in!”
    Constance’s lovely voice was low and melodious.
    When she was on stage it was impossible to hear any trace of her Devon burr that belied her origins. Yet when offstage and not on guard, her extenuated vowels and rolling rs betrayed her.
    Now as he strode in, he could see that Constance’s dresser, Lily, was still present. She was carrying the white gown that Constance wore in the final death scene.
    â€œGood evening, Robert,” she welcomed him, not looking away from her own reflection in the large mirror in front of her. “I am glad you received my note.”
    â€œI am sorry I did not see your performance – ” he began, taking off his top hat.
    â€œLily, shoo!” pouted Constance, suddenly turning around to flap her hands at the young girl. “Leave it until tomorrow.”
    The girl did not say anything, but simply scuttled towards the door and closed it quietly behind