“I theorize that he was on an extended grand tour. That’s how he was able to set his plays at such places.”
“It would seem to make sense.”
“Tonight, we go to Venice,” she said.
“So we do, Cassio.”
Cordelia felt pinpricks all over her arms. There was something intimate in him calling her Cassio. She did not know why exactly. It was not even her name.
They had entered the drawing room where the play was to take place and Cordelia realized she was disappointed that their speculations about Shakespeare’s seven unaccounted for years must be cut short.
Lady Rawley came at them at a rush. “The remaining members of my troupe have arrived!” She turned to Lady Agatha and Mrs. Robinson and said, “Come, let us gather together and reflect on what we are to accomplish this night. My dear nephew, please feel free to examine the sideboards, I am sure you will get ideas.”
Lady Rawley wore a billowing blue silk dress with a delicate fichu. Both Lady Agatha and Mrs. Robinson were looking rather smashing in their military garb, their hilts swinging jauntily at their sides.
Cordelia smiled as Lord Harveston made his way to Lady Rawley’s multiple sideboards that seemed to contain everything that had ever been found in her kitchens. He made a very good show of looking at it all, then poured himself a large glass of wine.
“My dear actors,” Lady Rawley said, “we prepare ourselves to tread the hallowed boards, shining a beacon of light into our audiences’ imaginations. They shall be fascinated and engrossed and they will entirely forget their own troubles as they invest themselves in Desdemona’s fate. I predict we will have several people on the edge of their seats.”
Lady Rawley had a dreamy expression and Cordelia could only appreciate that the lady loved the theater and acting as much as she did herself.
“Lady Agatha and Mrs. Robinson have worked tirelessly on the pivotal scene,” Lady Rawley continued. “That moment when Shakespeare’s ideas go topsy-turvy and Iago and Othello kill each other.”
Lord Harveston had looked up at the mention of the sword fight. “Aunt,” he said, “I do hope I was able to convince you to stick with the wooden swords?”
Lady Rawley laughed. “My dear nephew, no audience would be fooled by such a childish ruse! No, we must have veracity in all things. Veracity is what will move our audience to tears of joy.”
“But I really—”
“Freddy,” Lady Rawley said to one of her footmen, thereby ignoring her nephew, “bring the glasses. Ladies, in a time-honored tradition, we shall steady ourselves with a glass of the noble grape.”
*
Percival had beendisturbed that his aunt was carrying on with the plan to use real swords during the play. He thought the chances of an injury resulting from it was rather high.
He’d since slipped out to the hall and found Jones, the lady’s butler. He’d requested Jones send word to Lady Rawley’s doctor, explaining that the violence of the play might upset some ladies’ constitutions. He could not very well say he worried about a lady being run through, as that would likely bring a magistrate too.
His aunt’s physician lived in Mayfair, catering to ladies with deep pockets and deep admiration for their nerves. It would not take any time at all to get him here, and he would be directed to discreetly watch the proceedings from a doorway. Should things go awry, he would be on hand to treat the patient.
That done, his mind kept drifting to his conversation with Lady Cordelia. How lovely she’d looked in a military coat. There was something dashing about it.
Then, she’d mentioned she’d been wondering about Shakespeare’s unexplained seven-year disappearance.
No, that was not it—she’dtheorizedabout it.
Since when did the lady theorize? Perhaps she’d had theories all along and he’d just been too insufferable to notice?
The drawing room had filled and though Percival was irritated that his aunt still hinted that his sideboard was not up to snuff, he could not ignore how popular her own seemed to be.
Each set of chairs round the stage had a small table in front of them and people were carrying plates piled high and full glasses to their seats.
Amidst the hubbub, Percival noted Lady Cordelia’s extended family arriving in force. The earl, Darden, the duke and his duchess, and Baderston and his new bride.
Where was this Lord Darling character? Did they not take him out anywhere? It did not seem so.
He would understand why Chester was forever left behind, as it sounded as if he had a vile temper, but where was Lord Darling?
Unless there was some reason to leave him behind too. Could there be a reason the man could not appear in polite society?
