Page 29 of These Violet Delights
“No, dear, I think there is only the truth—that you should not and cannot marry him, and that love, sadly, is simply not enough.”
But Emilia wasn’t listening. Her entire demeanor changed, a sparkle gathering in her once-dull eyes. Violet, by contrast, brooded, realizing her mistake. She had offered hope where there ought to be plain rationality. The ladies neared the Florizel only to find a dense crowd gathering outside its doors. The sisters joined the stragglers at the back. Winny, popular in town from her constant trips to the ribbon shop, pulled an older lady aside, eager for an explanation. Why such a crowd on a Saturday afternoon?
“It is all in this pamphlet,” said Winny’s acquaintance, handing them a folded collection of yellowed papers. Violet took the manual, reading through it with a knot tightening in her belly.
“Unbelievable,” she murmured. “Here this Danforth fellow describesRomeo and Julietas an ‘inculcation to impropriety and sin.’ He can hardly be serious! It’s meant to be a warning, not encouragement. There are Cristabel and Emilia; stay with them, I’m going to get to the bottom of this.”
She didn’t hear Winny’s response, already pushing through the throng of townsfolk with the ridiculous pamphlet tucked under her arm. Mr. Danforth had taken it upon himself to perch on the front steps of the Florizel, preaching to those who had assembled, while Mr. Lavin, the owner, attempted to reason with the man.
“We are all allowed our beliefs, sir,” Lavin was huffing,crimson with fluster. “And I believe you are out of line. Not since the Licensing Act has the Florizel been met with opposition of any sort!”
“That is about to change,” said the vicar. He had thick, curling hair and a smug way about him that Violet disliked immediately. Worse, hovering just over his shoulder was a familiar face, and not one she expected to see on the side of censorship.
“Mr. Kerr!” she exclaimed, coming to stand beside Mr. Lavin and making her position clear. The clergyman’s timing could not be worse; the play was set to debut in just two days. Violet searched among the faces of those Danforth had brought, most of them strangers, leading her to wonder if these weren’t the good people of Cray Arches at all but folk he had assembled in neighboring Anselm.
“Good morning, Miss Arden.” Mr. Kerr angled out and away from the preacher; as he bowed, he wore an uncharacteristically sheepish expression. “I trust that your leg is much improved?”
“My—oh. Yes, thank you, it’s no trouble at all now. You are with this…person?” she asked, nodding toward Danforth and his horrid little basket heaped with pamphlets.
They stepped aside while the vicar continued arguing with Mr. Lavin. The actors were trickling out from the theater’s front doors, which only inflamed matters.
“I am near him,” Mr. Kerr replied, his lip curling somewhat with disdain. “I am notwithhim.”
To Violet’s continued dismay, Freddie Kerr peered out from behind his brother’s broad, concealing back. He looked pale and like he had not been sleeping adequately. If he caught sight of Emilia, there was no telling how he might react.
“Is this what clergymen are meant to do?” Freddie mumbled.
“My brother has taken a sudden interest in the profession,” Mr. Kerr explained.
“Harangue the populace over Shakespeare?” his brother continued.
Mr. Kerr clamped a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Having second thoughts?”
“And third and fourth. Does he really think this will fill his pews on Sundays?”
Violet held up the pamphlet, waving it in Mr. Kerr’s face. “What I want to know is how he afforded all of this! There must be hundreds of them…”
“My mother, I’m afraid,” Mr. Kerr replied, sullen. He stepped out of the shadow of the theater portico, and Violet followed. It was quieter there, and she could finally hear him clearly above the crowd and Danforth. “She’s inexplicably devoted to the man.”
“And she’s started the Ladies’ Society for Decency and Restoration,” said Freddie, whom she had not noticed coming around the corner with them.
“What?” Mr. Kerr rounded on him. “When did she do that?”
“Only yesterday. Wonder of wonders, Danforth set it up for her.” Freddie’s eyes rolled so vehemently they might have made a grinding sound. “Really. It sounds like he established the ladies’ society. When has our mother ever expressed interest in such a thing?”
“Since Mrs. Ann Richmond established her own charitable society, I imagine,” Mr. Kerr muttered, removing his spectacles and pinching the top of his nose.
Freddie shook his head. “Rivals to the bitter end.”
“I hardly care who established what,” Violet cut in. “I care about this,” she cried, gesturing to the agitated crowd. “Andthis.” She shoved the pamphlet into Mr. Kerr’s grasp. He held it as if it were a used handkerchief.
“I agree, Miss Arden, it is an astonishing use of free will.”
“Then get him out of here,” she growled. Her vision was clouding at the edges, a surge of dizzy anger making her nearly topple as she spun and marched back to the front of the theater. Winny was waiting for her there, and, eager to be away from the rising noise, she took her sister by the hand and dodged around Mr. Lavin. A large shape blocked her path, and Violet stumbled back, another swell of rage sweeping over her as she craned to look Mr. Danforth in the eye.
“Let me pass, sir,” Violet said, seething.
“Miss Arden, you seem to be without a pamphlet,” he said, holding up one of the leaflets between them. “It pains me to think a lady of your gentle breeding might need educating upon this subject, but even God’s purest lambs can be led astray.”
