by Julia Tagan
“My what?”
“Go tell his lordship...”
“I said Lord Warwick is not in residence,” snarled the guard.
“He is indeed in residence. I overheard the Earl of Galloway complain earlier this week his lordship had fled to Warwick to avoid certain indelicate matters. Matters I prefer not to discuss here.”
“What?”
Harriet could almost see the man’s mind churning as he tried to take in what was being said.
Lord Abingdon carried on. “If I am forced to spend the evening in the local inn, I may be questioned about such matters, and if asked, will provide details.”
“What may these matters concern?” The guard eyed him uneasily.
“Financial matters which would affect your job if they come to pass.”
“Wait here.”
The guard shut the door again, softly this time. Harriet approached Lord Abingdon. “What on earth are you talking about?”
“Warwick owes thousands of pounds to Galloway. I’m sure the staff have heard the rumors.”
Freddie joined them. “But his lordship was such a generous man.”
“Too generous, apparently.”
“What if the guard tells Lord Warwick the allegations you’ve made?” asked Harriet. “Won’t he be angry?”
“No servant would ever be so forward. At the same time, he won’t want rumors spreading outside the castle walls. A strange kind of loyalty gets bred in the country.”
“Well, we’ll see if it works,” said Freddie. “He may have decided to round up the footmen and run us out of town.”
“It’ll work,” said Lord Abingdon.
Harriet hoped so. Lord Abingdon and his nursemaid would be fine once he revealed his identity to Warwick. But Mrs. Kembler, Adam, Toby, and the rest would be stranded. What had she done?
The door opened. The guard gave Lord Abingdon a curt glance. “Follow me.”
They were in.
“Once Warwick receives us, the rest is up to you,” Lord Abingdon said.
Harriet swallowed hard. She hadn’t been a member of the Farley Players for a long time, and had no idea how her father had left off with him.
“Freddie, how long has it been since we’ve played here?” she inquired.
“Dunno. About five years or so.”
“Five years!”
“All the money was north of here. We didn’t know about the dealings with Lord Galloway. Father only said Lord Warwick wasn’t as forthcoming, financially speaking, as he had been in the past. All makes sense now.”
Harriet had fond memories of Lord Warwick, a tall man with an eloquent tongue, and his short, round wife. But perhaps her recollection was mistaken, a rosy view of the distant past.
They were led into the courtyard, where wide stone paths cut through an expanse of green lawn. Harriet recognized his lordship immediately as he sauntered over, trailed by a small entourage of servants. The visitors all took off their hats and, as Harriet did, her hair tumbled down around her shoulders.
Lord Warwick stopped and stared. “I’d recognize that little girl anywhere, the one with the indigo eyes. Is that Miss Farley?”
She wasn’t sure whether to curtsy or bow. She ended up executing a strange combination of the two, and Lord Warwick laughed. “You liked to dress like a boy on stage, if I remember correctly. Where have you been? And where’s my dear friend Sam?”
Harriet cleared her throat. “Your lordship, my father sends his deepest regards. Unfortunately, business has kept him north and he’s been unable to travel with us.”
“I’m so sorry. The man is a genius. An utter genius.” He took her hand in his. “Why I remember his King Lear as though I saw it yesterday. The dignity he lent to the part, I’ve never seen it reproduced.”
“Thank you, your lordship.”
“If ever I needed some entertainment in my life, it is now. Your timing is impeccable. Lady Warwick will be pleased as well. What do you need and what can I provide you, my dear girl?”
A wave of emotion welled up in her chest. It was a testament to her father’s talent as a manager and actor that the Earl of Warwick, even in dire straits, was willing to be their patron.
“We need a place to stay the night, and we’ll be happy to perform for you. Anything you like.”
“Of course, set up your production here and we’ll take in a performance before dining this evening.”
“Of course, my lord. However, we’ve had a fire and lost everything. We come only with our voices and bodies.”
“Well, that won’t do.” He called out and the butler hurried to his side.
“Sir?”
“The Farley Players will be performing. Make sure they get everything they need.” He addressed Harriet. “We have trunks full of old clothes that are being eaten by moths, and you can take what you like. Hargate will direct you.”
“But sir,” protested Hargate.
“Better than blasted Galloway getting his hands on it,” Lord Warwick muttered.
“Thank you, my lord. Thank you so much.”
He gave her a conspiratorial smile, then wove through the motley crew. “I recognize Adam, and Freddie, my how you’ve grown.”
“Your lordship,” said Freddie. “Such a pleasure. What will you have?”
“Let’s see. There are several guests at the castle tonight, and a feast is planned. You’ll have to begin soon, before the sun sets. I’d love to hear “A Saturday Night at Sea” by Dibdin. You’ll sing for me Adam, won’t you? Still in good voice?”
“Of course, your lordship.”
“I can’t ask for Lear, not without Sam. Tell me, what are you working on now?”
“We’re mounting As You Like It in Birmingham in a few days’ time,” offered Harriet.
“Wonderful. Not the whole thing, it’s far too long. Select scenes. And finish with a taste of tragedy. That will please me greatly, like a feast of delicacies. But I will cast the parts.”
Harriet’s smile froze. “Your lordship?”
“You shall play Rosalind, of course. Freddie, you’ll do well as the evil duke.”
“Sorry, your lordship, I’m incapacitated at the moment.” Freddie flapped his bandaged arm.
“I see. I hope it’s not serious. No? Well, then.” He touched Toby on the shoulder. “I choose this man. What fun! And you shall be Orlando.”
He was standing in front of Lord Abingdon.
“No, your lordship,” said Harriet quickly. “There’s been a mistake, please let me introduce you to the—”
Lord Abingdon stopped her with a slight shake of his head. For some reason he didn’t want her to let on his true identity.
She wasn’t sure how to proceed, and stared wide-eyed at him for a second before finally speaking up. “My lord, may I present our newest player, Mr. Abner. Mr. Abner, Lord Warwick.”
“A fine man.” Lord Warwick circled slowly around him as if he were a horse at auction. “Distinguished profile. You’ll do well in London. Have you performed on the London stage already?”
“No, your lordship.” Lord Abingdon’s face was red and he looked like he was about to explode.
“Then I look forward to your interpretation of the role. Orlando’s not the dolt he appears to be.”
Harriet had hoped for a quick performance followed by a good dinner and a decent night’s sleep. Instead, she had an angry earl cast as a romantic lead. It was going to be a long night.
* * * *
“And what on earth am I supposed to do once I’m onstage?” asked Lord Abingdon in a panic.
Harriet placed a cap on his head. “It’s a little late now, don’t you think? You should have told Lord Warwick who you were right off.”
“I’d planned to, during a quiet moment, but he was upon me before I got the chance.” He
yanked the cap off. “What have I done?”
Dealing with his stage fright was not high on Harriet’s list of priorities at the moment. They stood behind the temporary stage Toby and Freddie had erected with the help of several stable hands. The construction wasn’t elaborate, but it did the trick. Adam’s song had gone well, with Lord and Lady Warwick and their guests applauding heartily.
The costumes, which had been quickly gathered from various armoires within the castle’s many bedchambers, were of some of the finest materials and stitching the Farley Players had ever worn. The actors relished the chance to perform again and even Miss Entwhistle pitched in, eagerly lending a hand with quick costume changes between scenes. The setting sun cast a golden light over the stage.
“Don’t worry,” she whispered, replacing the cap on his head. “Read the lines on the page and try to make eye contact with me whenever possible. Luckily for you, my character does most of the talking in this scene.”
“Tell me again what it’s about.” Lord Abingdon was dressed for the part of the virile, lovesick hero in breeches that showed off his long legs and a shirt opened carelessly at the neck. She couldn’t help but notice his firm chest. Lord Abingdon fumbled with the buttons when he caught her staring.
“No, leave it.” Harriet blushed at her forwardness. “We don’t want Orlando to be too much of a dandy. He’s been wandering through the woods, writing poetry for Rosalind, the girl he’s met once and fallen hard for.”
Lord Abingdon stared down at the text. “It’s awful poetry, what he’s written.”
“He’s a lover, not a poet.”
“And you’re the girl he’s in love with?”
“Yes. But he doesn’t know that. I’m Rosalind, but I’m dressed like a boy to stay safe. I know who you are, but you think I’m some youth who lives in the forest. I’ve promised to teach you how to woo Rosalind.”
“Why am I doing this?”
“Because you’re in love.”
“Not the character. Me!” He threw his head back. “This is stupidity.”
His stubbornness was going to spoil everything. She had to make him focus on the task at hand. “You’re doing this because you refused to let me introduce you to Lord Warwick. If you’d allowed that, you’d be sitting on the other side of this curtain, being entertained with the rest of them.”
“There’s no way I’m explaining to Warwick how I got involved in this. I showed up at his door like a beggar, accompanied by a bunch of minstrels. I’d be laughed out of White’s the minute I get back to London.”
“Although the members of your men’s club may not agree, there’s nothing wrong with working as an actor. Absolutely nothing to be ashamed of.”
“Unless you’re an earl.”
He was panicking. If she didn’t persuade him to go on stage with her, he’d ruin the entire performance. She looked him straight in the eye. “Do this for me, for the Farley Players, and tomorrow you can speak with Lord Warwick privately and explain what happened. I’m sure he’ll understand.”
“I’ll tell him it was a big joke. That might work.”
His words stung. For a man of his standing, this was all a prank and would make for a good story at a dinner party.
“Listen to what I’m saying, that’s all you have to do.” She grabbed Lord Abingdon’s arm and led him out.
Her heart beat furiously. She’d forgotten what it was like to stand in front of strangers, completely exposed and vulnerable. Luckily, she’d recently re-read the play in her room in London, and the words were fresh in her head. It was one of her favorite works by Shakespeare, featuring a rollicking love story and excellent verse.
Lord Abingdon stood stiffly beside her and stared out at the audience. She uttered her first line and placed one hand on his face, turning his cheek slowly toward her. His brown eyes were huge, like a trapped animal’s. She led him to a crate and sat him down, speaking the entire time. When it was time for his line, she gave him a nod and he blurted it out. The audience laughed and Lord Abingdon visibly relaxed.
Harriet, emboldened, trotted around the stage in character, cajoling him into pretending to woo her, then sternly correcting him on his lack of grace and subtlety. To her relief, he did what he was told and listened to her intently, glancing down to find his next line and delivering it without too much fumbling.
Her words became rhythmic, tumbling out with ease. She’d forgotten how much fun it was to get a laugh out of the crowd. Near the end of the scene, where the character of Rosalind forces Orlando to recite the marriage vows, Harriet pulled Lord Abingdon up from the crate and brought him downstage.
“‘Then you must say, ‘I take thee, Rosalind, for wife.’’” Her voice caught with emotion. She imagined standing opposite Mr. Hopplehill, and how awful it would be to be bound forever to him. Or even worse, watching Marianne wed Lord Abingdon.
He looked at her in surprise, and then his face grew serious. “‘I take thee, Rosalind, for wife.’”
There was a moment of silence. Harriet knew she had the next line, but she couldn’t take her eyes off him. As the sun dipped below the castle walls, his hair shone with a reddish gold halo and his eyes were a burnished amber.
She wasn’t sure if she initiated the movement, or if he did, but their faces drew closer and closer, and then his lips were on hers in a tentative, soft kiss.
She’d never been kissed before, and his mouth was strong and gentle at the same time. Inside her chest, it was as if a swarm of butterflies were furiously beating their wings. When he pulled away, she was surprised to find she was still on the ground, that she hadn’t levitated into the air from pure pleasure.
The audience stayed silent for a couple of beats, then rose to their feet, clapping and whooping.
* * * *
William didn’t know how much time passed after he and Miss Farley kissed. He had no idea why he’d kissed her, he’d gotten caught up by the energy from the audience and the expression on her face, so vulnerable and honest. The touch of her lips had burned through him, and he’d had to stifle the impulse to toss the script aside and take her face in his hands.
When he’d first lumbered onstage, clutching the lines in his sweaty hands, the awkwardness of the moment was excruciating. He imagined Warwick and his guests recognized him immediately as the Earl of Abingdon, the ladies murmuring their shock behind their fans.
But after Miss Farley had seated him on the crate, he’d caught his breath and steadied himself. Her character had the lion’s share of the lines, and he found himself listening and watching her instead of focusing so much on himself. She was a natural on the stage and possessed a physical and emotional agility that was dizzying to witness. The audience hung on her every word. He’d had no idea how funny Shakespeare could be, either. He would have to read the play in its entirely once he was back in London, to find out how it ended.
The audience spilled onto the stage after they’d finished.
“You were splendid,” announced Lord Warwick. “And my guests and I have agreed we will provide whatever you need to get to Birmingham. Horses, wagons, say the word. On one condition.”
“What’s that?” asked Miss Farley.
“That you’ll return and make us once again part of your circuit. No more neglect.”
“We promise.”
William prepared to catch Warwick’s attention, pull him aside, and reveal his true identity. As the rest of the guests wandered back into the castle, he drew close.
“Your lordship, if you have a moment.”
“I certainly do.” Warwick put his arm over William’s shoulders. “It’s important we speak.”
“I agree.”
“You have a first-rate stage presence, you look the part, but your technique needs work.”
“Well, as a matter of fact, there’s a reason—”
“No excuses. I know
it’s difficult, but you should hear the truth if you’re considering a life in the theater. Nothing can replace technique, do you understand? Promise me you’ll get some training. That’s my boy.”
Before William could say another word, Warwick strode off. There was no way he’d reveal his identity now.
He’d missed his chance.
The cast was treated to a feast in the waning dusk, and William didn’t realize how famished he was until he’d devoured a second helping of pheasant and venison. Toby sat to his right and kept refilling his wine, and for the first time in days, William was at ease. It didn’t matter he hadn’t appealed to Warwick. In fact, maybe it was for the best. With the new wagons, they would make it to Birmingham tomorrow. He could meet with the apothecary, look up a chum from university who owned a hotel and arrange for a proper place to stay, as well as a chaperone for Miss Farley. Ever since the performance had concluded, he’d kept his distance from her, although he constantly noted where she was and whom she was speaking with.
“Come with me, my lord.” Freddie tapped William on the shoulder. “I’ve got something to show you. Best view in the county.”
William rose and followed him into the darkness. Freddie ducked inside a small wooden door, beckoning William to follow. They climbed a curving stone staircase that narrowed as it rose. About halfway up William temporarily lost his footing, but grabbed hold of the rope banister before he fell. He’d had too much to drink, but he couldn’t turn around now. Up ahead he heard a latch click and then he and Freddie staggered out into the evening. A dizzying array of stars lit up the night sky.
They were on top of one of the castle’s corner parapets. But not alone. Little Martin and Miss Farley were there as well.
“Freddie.” She ran up and hugged her brother. “Do you remember we used to sneak up here with Father? I brought Martin to show him.”
Freddie leaned over the thick stone wall and breathed in deeply. “I do remember. I’m surprised you do as well. Tell me, my upper-class sister, does the river Avon smell different from the Thames?”
Miss Farley laughed. “In summer, yes. The Thames reeks in hot weather, right my lord?”
