Page 62 of Tempting the Marquess

“Well, pardon me, I’m sure. In fact, Southby has been as unsocial as you, but George alternated singing‘Greensleeves’ and playing the trumpet outside his library window until he conceded defeat. Not even the duke of ice himself could stand such aural torture. Besides, tonight will be marvelous. It’s Edmund Kean at Drury Lane, and the way he acts…it doesn’t matter who he plays, you believe it wholeheartedly.”

“He’s really as good asthat?”

“Oh, he’s better. The way he reads Shakespeare will send tingles down your spine. So I repeat, get up. Immediately. I’ll find you a gown, get your hair arranged, then we’ll go to dinner. After that all of us will depart for the Theater Royal together. Southby will lift an eyebrow, we’ll be whisked to his box which of course is second only to the king’s, and all will bewell.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, a genuine smile curved Samantha’s mouth. “All right, then.”

After a delicious dinner of roasted pigeon, creamed potatoes, asparagus, and raspberry syllabub, Alexander’s carriage took them to the grand theater. Her eyes about to pop out of her head, Samantha drank in the jaw-droppingly lavish surroundings. Men in tailored jackets and intricately folded cravats, and beautiful women draped in jewels and furs, were everywhere. The noise of chatter was near-deafening, many couples strolled up the large staircase to their seats while others stood in small groups holding glasses of champagne.

“It’s so big!” she whispered under her breath to Caroline.

“The previous one was a bit bigger,” her friend replied. “The theater has been rebuilt three or four times I think, and only seats about three thousand peoplenow.”

“Only three thousand!”

Caroline grinned. “They wanted to give it a more, ah, cozy feel. Although I daresay everyone down in the pits would have felt cozy enough. Imagine being trapped next to someone less than fastidious about bathing.”

“I don’t know how they stand it. They must love watching plays a great deal. Then again, we all need some diversion at times.”

“Enough gossiping, you two,” said Lord Trentham, herding them down a long, curved hallway. “We’re in the world’s greatest theater and about to see the finest of actors thanks to Southby’s selfless generosity.”

Alexander scowled. “It’s not like I had a choice. Everyone mocks the Hartley chit’s singing, but by God, you are no improvement. As for that trumpet playing...I’ve heard screaming toddlers in Hyde Park with more musicality.”

“I’m wounded. You just cut me straight to the heart. Besides, none of my efforts would’ve been necessary had you behaved like a normal man and responded to letters and visits.”

“Some of us have matters on our minds.”

“Some of us need to remember we are not responsible for everything that happens in the world,” said Lord Ardmore, giving Alexander a pointed look as they strolled to the Southby privatebox.

Alexander halted, his leashed tension practically visible. “Don’t even start, Scot.”

“Your grace,” said Samantha, putting her hand on his sleeve. “Isn’t the news wonderful? Caroline told me that William has improved.”

The duke gazed down at her, and his face softened. “The best possible. Robert and I were both delighted to be informed. My brother…he is at last resting comfortably.”

Guilt lashed at her for the way she’d spoken to the colonel when she’d last seen him. “Please pass on my regards. And my apologies. Thatday—”

Alexander patted her hand, then his expression eased back into its usual aloof coolness. “Is one that should remain in the past, where it belongs.”

“See, Mama?” said Stephen gruffly from behind Alexander and Lord and Lady Trentham, where he walked with Aunt Jane on one arm and Caroline on the other, “I told you it was true. William is far too ornery to succumb to something as trivial as French bullets. He’ll be well and on his way home in notime.”

“One can only hope,” said Alexander. He paused beside a doorway blocked by a heavy, ruby-red curtain, and pulled it to one side. “Here we are. Ladies, afteryou.”

Following Louisa, Aunt Jane, and Caroline into the sumptuously appointed box, Samantha sucked in a deep breath. Nothing could describe the sheer majesty of the theater, with its towering columns, beautifully sculpted plasterwork, and large stage. The pits were a sea of people, talking and laughing while to the left and right other patrons took their box seats in a genteel flurry of silks and velvets.

“Sit down, dearest, you’re catching flies,” said Louisa with awink.

“But it’s so...amazing!”

Aunt Jane smiled. “The best is yet to come, I promise.”

She was right. When Edmund Kean stalked onto the stage and began to recite his lines, a hush descended on the enormous theater. The actor was indeed short of stature, but his commanding voice and presence made him seem seven feettall.

Gripping the handrail in front of her, Samantha leaned forward to get closer to the action, letting his talent, and the lyrical words of Mr. Shakespeare, surround and wash overher.

“Ahem. Ah-hem.”

Startled, she glanced around and froze as two things became clear. Firstly, the play had finished. Secondly, a silver-haired, plump-cheeked stranger lounged in the doorway, idly tapping his thigh with a cane. He was perhaps in his fifties or sixties, very tall, but like her own father often did, wearing clothes for someone much thinner. The stranger also had a brandy flush rather similar to Papa’s. But this man was grinning at them as though he knew them allwell.