Page 18 of The Earl's Disguised Governess
But by the end of the week, Lady Florence’s mind was decidedly not on her pianoforte or the singing notes but on the play. It was all she talked about that morning when she broke her fast. Claire had a hard time getting the excited young girl to complete her lessons for the day, but she was still incredibly endeared by the display of passion Lady Florence had for the arts.
By the time they made it to the Bath playhouse, Claire was rather excited herself and dressed in a modest but pretty navy-blue dress with frills on the sleeve cuffs and the neckline. The skirt fanned around her hips and fell to the floor in layered ruffles, and while her long sleeves kept her conservatively covered up as a working woman, she felt beautiful. Her hair was done up into a bun, prettier than she would usually style it, while the lower half of her hair was left to trail down her back.
They made their way to their box, curtained off from the rest of the audience, with a gilded gold railing to stop them from toppling over the edge and plush red seats. Below, the stage was lit atmospherically with low candles encased in glass, and the curtains were open, depicting the backdrop of two households in Verona.
An orchestra was in the pit before the stage, and Ernest nodded towards the box on the other side of the theatre to them.
“You see the box with the blue curtains? Although it is empty now, that is for the Duke and Duchess of Colchester,” he told her. “They are patrons of the playhouse and pour a large sum of funds into it. His Grace served in the king’s war as a general. He and White were friendly and worked together brilliantly. I imagine many men owe their life to His Grace.”
Claire was surprised as she nodded. It was strange how all the men in their finery had once bloodied their military uniform in the name of war. She could not quite get her head around the tragedy of which men had lost friends and family and which women now had remarried since losing husbands in the battle.
She turned her attention from there as she noticed Florence sat just in front of them, eagerly awaiting the play to begin.
“It is most exciting, Lord Bannerdown,” Lady Florence said. “Thank you for inviting us!”
“It is not a problem,” Ernest told her. His gaze flickered to Claire, and he looked at her in that way that said he hid secrets and fun mysteries, but as though he knew she did, too. She felt heat rise to her cheeks. “You look beautiful tonight, Miss Gundry.” As if realizing the outright compliment, and how improper it might be to speak of his ward’s governess in such a way, he stuttered and continued, “As do you, Lady Florence. I am very fortunate for my company tonight.”
“Do you come to the theatre often, Lord Bannerdown?” Florence asked, her fingers curling around the railing at the box.
He shook his head. “Between the hospital and taking over Little Harkwell—” He paused when Florence’s forehead creased. “Well—I find myself with little time for theatrical leisure.”
Claire gave Florence an encouraging smile as the girl turned back to the stage. Ernest was saved from his blunder by the stage lights going up, and a woman, a narrator, entered the stage.
“Two households, both alike in dignity …” she began, and then Claire watched Florence’s rapture and knew any attention the girl might have had for anything else around her was gone. A fire could begin in the rafters, but as long as the play continued, Florence would be oblivious. She truly loved Romeo and Juliet so much, perhaps finding solace in tragedy.
Ernest leaned closer to Claire. “Romeo and Juliet was not my first beloved play, but it did quickly become one of my top reads. How about you?”
“Oh, I found I was rather lured in from the start,” Claire said. “I find Romeo to be woefully dashing and heartfelt, and Juliet is most understandable. I have always loved literature. My father had a beautiful library—”
She halted her own words, worried about how to describe her father’s library without revealing her noble background.
“That he … that he showed me,” she finished, for it left it to interpretation. He might have owned it; he might have worked in one. “And I often buried myself in there for hours.”
“You visited during the day?”
“Mostly when he worked,” she answered, not quite a lie. “I could not find it in myself to live through a day without reading.”
“You are very well-educated, then,” Ernest said, and it wasn’t entirely a question, but she nodded all the same. She could say that she had a governess for many years, for a commoner would not have had one and would not have the same access to education as a noble girl. “How did you come to learnso much? You must have found some way to access material, surely.”
“I …” She truly did not want to outright lie, but she could not reveal the truth about her past. “I found my ways.” She made sure to give him a mischievous smile, to let him fill in the blanks any way he pleased. “I craved knowledge, so I made sure I had it.”
“Admirable,” he praised. He paused to look at the play, and Claire was glad for the moment’s reprieve.
On the stage below, Juliet and Romeo danced together, their palms held an inch apart. Palm to palm is holy palmer’s kiss …
Claire looked down at where Ernest held the arms of his seat, and Claire moved her own clasped hands closer to his. She held her breath, their own hands merely an inch apart, before she chided herself on being too forward and pulled them back.
He was unaware as he leaned back in, talking before he looked at her.
“I did very similar things,” he said to her, a smile quirking at his lips a moment before he regarded her, and her stomach dropped at the weight of his gaze on her. That smile undid something in Claire that she had … not felt in a long, long time. She swallowed and glanced away. “In order to fit into society, Idid what I could. I hoped for the best with what I did not have and fought for what I did have and possessed. I want to be a medic but … I also have a duty to my inheritance.” He winced. “And my mother, of course.”
“She is a beautiful countess,” Claire said, thinking of the maids’ gossip about Lady Katherine.
“Indeed.” He grimaced. “But I sometimes wish I did not have to descend such a path with her.” He shifted in his seat, turning away from the play. With their voices pitched low, they did not have to worry about disturbing Florence’s viewing experience. “May I be very honest, Miss Gundry?”
“Of course, My Lord.”
“Sometimes, I find myself missing the battlefield. But other times, I find myself missing the life I had before both the war and this inheritance came to fruition.” His attention was on her as if trying to decide if she would be his confidante or not. But Claire only smiled, even as her chest tightened in tender sympathy.
