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“I already got an earful from the man himself,” Artie said morosely. “No need to lay it on further, Livvy.”
“Don’t be too hard on Arthur, Livvy,” Delia said from her seat by the fire. “It is difficult to change one’s habits after a lifetime in the theater. You know what it’s like. Fifty years of backstage costume changes may have muddled Arthur a bit, but it’s those same years of theater experience that got us out of the room without stumbling all over ourselves.”
“You may think we extricated ourselves smoothly, Delia,” Lavinia said, “but I’m absolutely certain our smoothness only served to raise questions in Lucas’s mind. We should have been aghast and blushing and excusing ourselves. Instead, we were all politeness, as if nothing whatsoever was amiss. Andthenwe took his only clothing with us.”
“That part was your doing, dearie,” Hannah pointed out.
Lavinia ground her teeth. “Perhaps so, but I was hardly expecting to find myself in such a situation, was I? The entire scene was absurd.”
“How are his clothes coming along, Hannah?” Artie asked. Hannah was busy polishing Lucas’s boots while his clothing dried. She was nearly done with the first one. “He was especially insistent on getting them back within the hour.”
“A little polish and brushing and he’ll be right as rain,” Hannah said. “P’raps an hour and a bit.”
“Closer to an hour would be better for my mortal existence, Hannah.”
“Coat and breeches need more time to dry before I can brush them neat. His shirt and neckcloth could use some starch, but we can’t have everything, now, can we? At least the innkeeper had an iron we could borrow. I’ll see what I can do.”
“That’s all a fellow can ask.”
“There. You see, Livvy?” Delia said. “An hour and a bit. Perhaps less. Tempest in a teapot, if you were to ask me. Mr. Jennings doesn’t seem the sort to hold a grudge for long, and once he sees what our Hannah can do, he’ll be over it in a trice.”
“‘And where two raging fires meet together, they do consume the thing that feeds their fury,’” Artie said.
“Rather out of context, Arthur, but I do believe you’re onto something,” Delia said. “Very observant of you.”
Lavinia had no idea what Artie meant by his reference or what Delia meant in reply, and she refused to speculate. “Enough with the Shakespeare, at least for now, Artie. Normal language for normal people. Besides, the Bard doesn’t have an answer for everything, you know.”
Artie and Delia both looked at her as though she’d uttered blasphemy.
“Artie could try the Bible instead,” Hannah suggested. “It would do him a world of good.”
“I know the Bible as well,” Artie replied archly. “‘Wherefore I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes.’ There. You see? The book of Job.” He gazed off into the distance. “I should dearly like to play Job sometime. Such depth of character.”
“You would make a wonderful Job, Arthur, but I think I still prefer Shakespeare, if you are to quote from anything, despite what Livvy says. Much less guilt attached overall,” Delia said.
That led the two of them into a general discussion of the dramatic merits of the Bible versus Shakespeare, completely losing the thread of the original conversation, which was, ironically, how their behavior needed to be more normal and reflect less obviously on their theatrical background.
Lavinia began pacing again. This was the reason she’d put Hannah in charge last night. And Artie and Delia continued to prove her decision right time and again, despite their ending up at the White Hart.
Lavinia herself had reacted too theatrically bynotreacting as a young lady would. How was she ever to find her way to a normal life if her ingrained instincts let her down?
She crossed to the window and looked out at a view of the inn’s stable yard, although there wasn’t anything to see. Had it really only been last night she’d sneaked away from the theatre and Mr. Hinchcliffe and Lord Cosgrove? It seemed a lifetime ago.
They needed to appearnormal. How were they ever to be accepted by their new neighbors when they reached Primrose Farm otherwise? The people in all the towns and villages they’d performed in over the years had enjoyed their theatrical productions but had tended to be suspicious of them too, fearful that the theater troupe might be of a dishonest nature and steal their goods or their spouses or sons or daughters.
The suspicions hadn’t been unwarranted in many cases. Her own father wasan example of that, at least when it came to the daughters of the townspeople.
The same types of suspicions might arise when they reached Primrose Farm if they weren’t careful. And then, there they’d be, relying on only themselves, with no practical knowledge about farming and no friendly neighbors offering advice and assistance.
A soft knock at the door heralded the arrival of their supper.
“‘Mine eyes smell onions; I shall weep anon,’” Artie said, rubbing his hands together.
His Shakespeare repertoire was already back in full force. Lavinia sighed and turned away from the window.
Hannah ate quickly and resumed her task. In just over an hour, she had Lucas’s clothes ready to return to him. She instructed Artie to carry Lucas’s boots since she intended on carrying the other garments herself. “Livvy told the man his clothes was going to look even better than usual, and I intend for them to be that way. Artie would have them all wrinkled if I was to leave it up to him.”
“I daresay I know how to carry a man’s garments,” Artie replied, all indignation. “I am a man, you know. ‘For the clothing oft proclaims—’”
