Page 19 of The Duke's Bride in Disguise
I pray you will do me the great honour of attending, in my private box, a showing of The Winter's Tale at The Theatre Royal this evening. I can imagine no greater privilege than the pleasure of your company.
Your humble servant,
R
Underneath the solitary, yet intimate, "R", the duke had taken the time to write out the full list of his titles; Duke of Kilbride, Marquess of Brightford, Earl of Lexington—there were so many, it was a wonder he could remember them all! He had clearly taken Ava's lecture on letter writing seriously, she thought, with a little thrill.
"There is a footman waiting in the hallway for your reply, my Lady," Graves said, as Ava turned her eyes toward him.
Her reply? While a part of Ava was touched by how the duke had so obviously listened to her criticism of his last invitation, another part knew that she must refuse him. She was pretending to be Emily so she could repel the duke, not so she could hobnob at the theatre with him. Before she had a chance to voice her refusal, however, Lord Fairfax bounced into the parlour, beaming with delight.
"I say," Lord Fairfax said cheerfully, "Is that the invitation to the theatre? I bumped into Kilbride's man waiting in the hallway and he said that the duke had invited us all to some Shakespeare this evening."
"Indeed he has, father," Ava replied demurely, "But I am afraid I cannot attend—I am not feeling well."
Luckily, to add credence to her fib, Mary arrived back, with a cup of Mrs Hardy's malodorous nostrum in hand.
"Oh dear," Lord Fairfax's face fell, "I have already told the footman that we would gladly accept. Take a few sips of that, my dear, and lie down for the rest of the afternoon. I'm certain it will pass by this evening, for you don't look ill at all—quite the opposite, in fact."
To Ava's dismay, Lord Fairfax waited patiently to watch her swallow the rancid, medicinal concoction that Mary had brought, only leaving once he was satisfied that she had swallowed every drop.
"That'll put hair on your chest," Mary observed drolly as she took the empty cup from Ava's hand.
"Perhaps a hairy chest is what's needed to dissuade the duke from our impending marriage," Ava responded with a sigh. The Duke of Kilbride was proving more difficult to handle than she had anticipated.
Despite her annoyance at Lord Fairfax having accepted Kilbride's invitation, Ava could not help but feel a thrill of excitement as their carriage drew up outside the Drury Lane theatre. In all her life, she had never once attended a play, and to be seated in a private box for her first performance was beyond her wildest wishes.
"My dear, you are near hopping with excitement," Lord Fairfax observed, as he escorted his daughter into the thronged foyer of the Theatre Royal.
"You know how much I adore the Bard, Papa," Ava replied nervously. Was she being too obvious? It was difficult not to be awestruck by the opulence of the theatre, or the glittering crowd which jostled and pushed within. Feeling a little self-conscious, Ava tried to adopt a more disinterested air, similar to that of the other patrons, some of whom looked bored to tears. In certain circles, it seemed that it was most unfashionable to express enthusiasm for anything—particularly amongst the young men.
"Shakespeare, how ruddy dull," Ava overheard one man say to his companion, as they climbed the staircase to the boxes.
"True—though it will be interesting to see McCasey perform again, after such a long stint abroad."
"That puffed up ignoramus?" the man snorted, "Nothing but a lowly thespian with ideas above his station."
McCasey? Ava stifled a gasp; whilst the young man might not be impressed at the thought of seeing the famous, Shakespearean actor, she most certainly was. Douglas McCasey had, for decades, been one of London's most respected and admired actors, and had been much esteemed by Mr Hobbs and the customers of the library. He had left London some years ago, to tour the continent, and now it seemed he had returned. How thrilling!
"I did not know that Mr McCasey had returned from the continent," Ava whispered to Lord Fairfax.
"And I did not know that you knew who he was," Lord Fairfax chuckled in reply, "Where has this sudden interest in Shakespearean theatre come from?"
Ava bit back a groan of dismay; she must try harder to remember that she was Emily and not Ava. Evidently, her twin sister did not share Ava's love for Shakespearean dramas.
Luckily Ava and Lord Fairfax's arrival at the duke's box prevented her from having to answer Emily's father's query. Unluckily, their arrival also heralded a new set of faces, amongst them one that Ava knew well—Lady Georgiana.
"Lady Emily," the duke's niece called with a smile, "Come sit by me."
The dainty young woman patted the plush seat beside her and, grateful to escape the unfamiliar crowd, Ava sat down promptly.
"How wonderful to see you again," Georgiana said, "You look different—have you done something with your hair?"
