Read Exit the Actress for Free Online Page A

kitchen, hemming the sleeve of her new bluebell blue dress and drinking a bowl of chocolate when we came trilling home—a happy, boisterous quartet. I pulled off my hat and went to stand by the warm fire. Duncan stopped at the door and flushed crimson when he saw Rose. A sad sort of look flashed across Dr. Genner’s face, but he quickly crossed the room and kissed her cheek. “Lovely to see you, my dear. Are you keeping well?”
    “Very well, thank you, Dr. Genner. Did you enjoy the concert?”
    “It was a lecture, not a concert,” corrected Duncan from the doorway, and then he mumbled his thanks for an educational evening and fairly fled out the door.
    “Rose, dear, is there any of that chocolate left to offer our guest?” asked Grandfather, unfazed, “or is that the last of it in your mug?” Rose smiled at the jibe; she has a sweet tooth and always finishes off the chocolate.
    “No, there is plenty in the pot. I thought you might be coming back soon.”
    “I can’t stop, either, I’m afraid,” said Dr. Genner. “Celia will start to fret.” He gently patted Rose’s cheek. “It was good to see you, my dear. You must stop in and see Celia. She misses you.” He left after shaking Grandfather’s hand and promising to thrash him in a game of backgammon on Sunday.
    The three of us were left standing in the kitchen in the wreckage of the lovely night. Grandfather reached up to the high shelf and brought down two more mugs. Rose set down her sewing and poured out the thick chocolate. Once we were all settled at the table, I could no longer hold back, and my giggles erupted. “Forgive me, Rose,” I gasped. “Duncan just looked so uncomfortable and pompous, and then he … he … he
panicked.
”
    Grandfather chuckled. “I think, my dear, he did not know quite what to say to you.”
    Rose smiled sheepishly. “No. No one seems to know what to say to me these days.”
Thursday (icy cold!)
    Even though I wore two pairs of woollen hose and stuffed my boots with paper, I still had to stomp my feet to keep my toes from freezing today. The wintry sun did little to warm me, and by two in the afternoon I could stand no more and ducked into the cook-shop for warmth and a beef pasty. What luxury! If Rose can spend money on absurd hair-combs, then I can surely buy a pasty. Regretfully, I did not have any hot cider as I need the money to buy lip salve tomorrow for my wind-whipped face. These days I am permanently pink—most unattractive.
Early—six a.m.
    Rose came home at dawn this morning and, thinking I was asleep, undressed in daylight. I gasped when I saw her bruised collarbone and forearms.
    Rose turned, swiftly covering herself with her chemise. “It is not as badas it looks, Ellen,” she said tersely, pouring water from the china pitcher into the basin. “Go back to sleep.”
    In the morning I found the cloth she had used to wash bundled at the back of the wooden washstand.
Blood.
So it is as bad as it looks.
January 19 (bitterly cold)
    The news:
    Fourteen people froze to death in the village of Highgate, a five-legged cow was born in Chelsea, and the king asked his new queen to accept Barbara Castlemaine as her First Lady of the Bedchamber. She refused! Bravo!
January 21
    The news:
    The farmer in Chelsea is charging fourpence a head to see the five-legged cow. “Less than a penny per leg,” Grandfather said. “That is reasonable.” The Dutch have inflated the price of lace to more than seventeen shillings a yard, and Queen Catherine relented! Mother says a wise woman accepts. Rose says the young gallants are calling it the “Bedchamber Crisis.” Are those her customers—young gallants?
    S T. C LOUD , F RANCE
T O M Y BELOVED BROTHER , H IS R OYAL M AJESTY K ING C HARLES II D’ A NGLETERRE
F ROM P RINCESSE H ENRIETTE -A NNE, D UCHESSE D’ O RLÉANS, THE M ADAME OF F RANCE
J EUDI, 19 J ANVIER 1663
    Charles,
    Is it true what Louis tells me? Did you really install your mistress into your new wife’s