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“Truly?”
A nod.
“Very well. You may wish to make yourself comfortable. This will take some time.” She read through the list of characters, then began.
“‘So shaken as we are, so wan with care,
Find we a time for frighted peace to pant,
And breathe short-winded accents of new broils
To be commenced in strands afar remote.’”
She read on, looking up every so often to either catch his eyes on her or his gaze fixed on the ceiling, as if he imagined the scenes depicted. How odd that for him so many of these scenes were not those of a romantic past but were lived battles, battles like those from which he wore scars. She’d seen those scars on his chest.
“Miss Stapleton?”
His deep voice drew her to herself. “Forgive me.”
“You need not continue if you do not wish.”
“I am happy to continue, sir.”
“As long as it does not deprive you of your duties elsewhere.”
She leaned forward conspiratorially. “To be quite honest with you, I much prefer to read Shakespeare than attend to my duties elsewhere.”
“In that case, carry on.”
And so she did.
She read, he listened, and they chuckled over Falstaff’s quips, raged at Hotspur’s treatment of his lady, applauded Prince Hal finally owning his princely heritage.
He seemed to truly enjoy it, and when she’d finished reading, they discussed the play as if it was normal to enter into so fully comprehending another’s feelings and emotions.
At services, Theo spoke to the doctor and asked if he could visit on the morrow. The captain seemed to be improving, and she’d wondered if perhaps the captain might be well enough to take a different room. “I fear he is getting dreadfully bored in there. It’s not the largest room, and our company cannot be very entertaining, I fear. A different view might prove diverting.”
“I’m afraid it’s still rather too soon for him to be moved,” the doctor advised. “But I don’t see any harm in his having visitors.”
“We have made enquiries for his friend to come and stay. A Lieutenant Musgrave.”
“Ah, another young man to tease and disconcert our neighborhood?”
“Only if it is found out that he knows Captain Balfour.”
“Who knows Captain Balfour?”
Theo turned to encounter Mrs. Cleever’s inquisitive expression. Her mind raced. What to admit, what to say …
“If you’ll excuse me, ladies.” The doctor tipped his hat, offering Theo a private grin.
“I still cannot believe the captain has made no appearance,” the solicitor’s wife complained.
“It is a mystery to the town, that is true,” Theo said with care.
“He seems to be in regular communication with my husband. All Mr. Cleever does is talk of Mannering this or Mannering that.”
“I’m sure there is a lot to consider, especially with its being sold and all.”
