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“Lady Evelina is quite fine with you stepping in to help us again,” continued the vicar quickly. “She knows the show must go on!” He paused. “And you did a superlative job last time, Jude. You are a natural thespian!”
Jude suppressed a smile. The vicar was exaggerating, of course. But then, the manwasdesperate.
He glanced back at Lady Evelina. He couldn’t quite believe she was allowing this to happen again, particularly since the kiss. She had been trying very hard to distance herself from him. Why had she agreed to this? Surely, they could find another man to step in for the rehearsal. It didn’t have to be him at all.
He exhaled slowly. He had been put on the spot again. He really had no choice. And as he consented, walking with the vicar towards the hall, he felt a small stirring of excitement at the thought of being close to her like this again. He knew it was wrong. But God help him, he couldn’t help it.
***
Evelina gripped her script tightly as she stood across from Jude on the small stage. Her heart was racing, and she was in the grip of an almost delirious rapture at being so close to him like this. Almost to the point that she couldn’t concentrate on her lines at all.
They had been rehearsing on the stage with their scripts for the past half hour and it was going well. To her surprise, Jude was actually a very good actor. He spoke his lines with great expression. Now, they had reached the point in the pantomime when Prince Charming was rushing down the stairs to stop Cinderella from leaving the ball.
It was just the two of them on the stage now, circling each other. Evelina felt the charged air between them and vaguely wondered if anyone else noticed. But then, they could just blame it on the fact they were so immersed in their characters, couldn’t they? Prince Charming and Cinderellaweresupposed to be falling in love with each other, after all.
“Lady,” cried Jude, as the character, taking a step closer to her. “I beseech you! Do not run away!”
“I must go,” said Evelina, looking straight into his eyes. “Please, Your Highness. Let me leave.”
“But why?” breathed Jude, his face inches away from her own. “I have barely had a chance to dance with you…”
Reverend Basingstoke started hitting a gong off the stage. It was supposed to be the sound of the clock chiming to indicate it was approaching midnight. According to the script, she had to count six gongs before turning and running away, to make the coach before it officially struck twelve gongs to show midnight, when the spell of enchantment would be broken.
But as she gazed into Jude’s eyes, she started to lose count. Was that five gongs? Or had she missed the sixth entirely, and it was the seventh? She could barely breathe. Jude was gazing at her so intently, with such yearning in his face, that she had to suppress the urge to reach out a hand and touch his face, run her fingers slowly down the length of it.
Suddenly, the spell was broken by heavy footsteps on the stage. It was the vicar, looking displeased.
“My lady,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “You must pick up your skirts and resume your run from the prince on precisely thesixthgong! Otherwise, the timing is completely eschewed!”
Jude stepped back. Evelina shook her head, trying to gather her thoughts.
“I apologise, Reverend,” she said, in a breathless voice. “I lost count.”
Suddenly, the vicar grinned. “It happens,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “This is why we rehearse, over and over! Shall we start that whole scene again?”
“Actually, could we have a small break?” asked Evelina, her heart thumping hard. “Just for five minutes.”
The vicar sighed. “Of course, my lady. But just five minutes. We are almost to the end of the rehearsal, and we must not lose our momentum!”
He walked away, calling that they were taking a break. Everyone walked out from behind the stage to the teapot and cups set up on a table, chatting brightly. But Jude just stayed in his position, gazing at her. And she couldn’t move at all for a full moment, either.
Eventually, she managed to shake herself, turning away and walking towards the others. She knew it was wrong for this to be happening. It was only stirring up the longing between them again, and she had been trying so hard to distance herself from him.
She told herself that the vicar had put her on the spot again, asking if Jude could fill in for Mr. Pimm once more. They needed to rehearse. Jude had already filled in once before and had done a good job. It would have been churlish in the extreme to have refused the vicar’s request that her coachman assume the role. The show must go on, mustn’t it?
But she knew, in her heart, that it had been more than that. Her heart had leapt at the thought of spending time with him again in such close proximity. She had weakened and was indulging herself. She knew it must stop.
She sipped her tea, glancing back at Jude. He was still standing on the stage, as if rooted to the spot. As if he couldn’t move if he wanted to. Her heart lurched again. This was so much more difficult than she had ever imagined. And she knew now that it was just as difficult for him. She didn’t know whether that made it a little better or much worse.
***
The rehearsal had finally ended. Jude farewelled everyone before walking back to the carriage. He squinted in the light, feeling as if he was emerging from another world entirely.
“Jude! Can I talk with you?”
He stopped, turning around. Reverend Basingstoke was running towards him. He suppressed a sigh of irritation. What now?
“You did very well, young man,” said the vicar, beaming at him. “You truly are a natural!”
