with Miss Kaye, inching tentatively towards her like a frightened animal.
‘Miss Bennet, I’m so sorry. I’ve been waiting outside our box. You must think me very foolish.’
Elizabeth laughed. ‘In that case we are both fools, since I made exactly the same mistake.’
Miss Kaye stared at her, as if shocked by such an admission. ‘No, the fault is mine. I always do the wrong thing in these situations.’
‘Did you enjoy the third act?’
‘Oh yes.’ Miss Kaye clasped her hands together. ‘Mr Cooke delivers the lines so wonderfully.’
‘His voice has remarkable resonance,’ Elizabeth agreed. ‘Unfortunately the actress playing Ophelia does not project so well.’
‘If you cannot hear, why not watch the next act from our box? There is plenty of room, and Lord Harbury specifically gave me leave to invite you.’
Elizabeth hesitated. ‘Thank you, I would love to, but first I should confer with my party.’
‘I hope I’ve not put you in a difficult position.’
‘Not at all.’ Elizabeth put a hand soothingly on the girl’s arm. ‘Miss Kaye, in case we get separated, may I leave you my card?’
‘Oh yes, and here is mine.’ With a shaking hand, Miss Kaye searched in her reticule. ‘Pardon me for not thinking of it before. Mornings I am usually at home.’
Ending the conversation as soon as she could, Elizabeth returned to Bridget, and drew her into a corner where they could discuss the latest developments in privacy. She watched impatiently as Bridget thought the matter over, her expression unusually serious.
‘Come on, tell me I am mad,’ Elizabeth prompted eventually. ‘My vital humours are out of balance. I need a rest cure, or a water cure, or should be restrained in a padded cell.’
Bridget sighed. ‘All the above, but you are also a brave woman, and as a loyal friend I should respect your decisions.’ She took a step closer and dropped her voice. ‘But one thing I do ask, Elizabeth. If you proceed with your plan, your presence in Lord Harbury’s box will be visible to the whole auditorium. I grant that since you are not well known in the ton , few people if any will recognise you. But do try to stay in shadow.’
As Act IV progressed, Elizabeth felt more at ease. She was seated on Helena Kaye’s right at the edge of the box, just a few yards from the stage, where the drama of Ophelia’s breakdown was playing out. Lady Harbury, as before, had ignored her, and Lord Harbury, like Miss Kaye, was engrossed in the performance. Having never enjoyed such a good seat before, she tried to take advantage of the opportunity, and to forget her troubles and intrigues at least for the moment.
The door opened and a young man entered and took a seat beside Lord Harbury. Looking round, Elizabeth met Miss Kaye’s eye questioningly, and received a whispered answer:
‘My brother. Arthur.’
The young man seemed to realise for the first time that there was a stranger in the box, and his eyes fastened on to Elizabeth, and held. Like Miss Kaye he was pale and thin, but his expression was very different—not so much self-deprecating as vain and petulant. He did not smile, but merely stared at her appraisingly. Trembling with fright, Elizabeth forced her attention back to the play, as he leaned forward and began to whisper to his uncle.
Elizabeth, immediately alert, pretended to watch the stage while straining to hear what the gentlemen were saying.
‘Has a date been set?’ This from Lord Harbury.
The reply was mostly inaudible, but she picked up the word ‘weeks’.
‘Your decision.’ Lord Harbury again. ‘But take care.’
Another mumbled response, which sounded at first like ‘no elephants’. Elizabeth longed to move closer, but dared not expose her interest. The whispering stopped, and she quietly sighed with frustration. Of course the conversation could have been on any topic. Perhaps they were planning an outing to the zoo. Elizabeth stifled a giggle, provoking a puzzled glance
‘Miss Bennet, I’m so sorry. I’ve been waiting outside our box. You must think me very foolish.’
Elizabeth laughed. ‘In that case we are both fools, since I made exactly the same mistake.’
Miss Kaye stared at her, as if shocked by such an admission. ‘No, the fault is mine. I always do the wrong thing in these situations.’
‘Did you enjoy the third act?’
‘Oh yes.’ Miss Kaye clasped her hands together. ‘Mr Cooke delivers the lines so wonderfully.’
‘His voice has remarkable resonance,’ Elizabeth agreed. ‘Unfortunately the actress playing Ophelia does not project so well.’
‘If you cannot hear, why not watch the next act from our box? There is plenty of room, and Lord Harbury specifically gave me leave to invite you.’
Elizabeth hesitated. ‘Thank you, I would love to, but first I should confer with my party.’
‘I hope I’ve not put you in a difficult position.’
‘Not at all.’ Elizabeth put a hand soothingly on the girl’s arm. ‘Miss Kaye, in case we get separated, may I leave you my card?’
‘Oh yes, and here is mine.’ With a shaking hand, Miss Kaye searched in her reticule. ‘Pardon me for not thinking of it before. Mornings I am usually at home.’
Ending the conversation as soon as she could, Elizabeth returned to Bridget, and drew her into a corner where they could discuss the latest developments in privacy. She watched impatiently as Bridget thought the matter over, her expression unusually serious.
‘Come on, tell me I am mad,’ Elizabeth prompted eventually. ‘My vital humours are out of balance. I need a rest cure, or a water cure, or should be restrained in a padded cell.’
Bridget sighed. ‘All the above, but you are also a brave woman, and as a loyal friend I should respect your decisions.’ She took a step closer and dropped her voice. ‘But one thing I do ask, Elizabeth. If you proceed with your plan, your presence in Lord Harbury’s box will be visible to the whole auditorium. I grant that since you are not well known in the ton , few people if any will recognise you. But do try to stay in shadow.’
As Act IV progressed, Elizabeth felt more at ease. She was seated on Helena Kaye’s right at the edge of the box, just a few yards from the stage, where the drama of Ophelia’s breakdown was playing out. Lady Harbury, as before, had ignored her, and Lord Harbury, like Miss Kaye, was engrossed in the performance. Having never enjoyed such a good seat before, she tried to take advantage of the opportunity, and to forget her troubles and intrigues at least for the moment.
The door opened and a young man entered and took a seat beside Lord Harbury. Looking round, Elizabeth met Miss Kaye’s eye questioningly, and received a whispered answer:
‘My brother. Arthur.’
The young man seemed to realise for the first time that there was a stranger in the box, and his eyes fastened on to Elizabeth, and held. Like Miss Kaye he was pale and thin, but his expression was very different—not so much self-deprecating as vain and petulant. He did not smile, but merely stared at her appraisingly. Trembling with fright, Elizabeth forced her attention back to the play, as he leaned forward and began to whisper to his uncle.
Elizabeth, immediately alert, pretended to watch the stage while straining to hear what the gentlemen were saying.
‘Has a date been set?’ This from Lord Harbury.
The reply was mostly inaudible, but she picked up the word ‘weeks’.
‘Your decision.’ Lord Harbury again. ‘But take care.’
Another mumbled response, which sounded at first like ‘no elephants’. Elizabeth longed to move closer, but dared not expose her interest. The whispering stopped, and she quietly sighed with frustration. Of course the conversation could have been on any topic. Perhaps they were planning an outing to the zoo. Elizabeth stifled a giggle, provoking a puzzled glance
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