Even in the box with the lowered lights, he felt their stares. He pretended not to notice but rather to take a great interest on what was happening on the stage in front of them. Everyone else was mesmerized about what was transpiring. He knew he couldn’t leave right now. That would be rude, or they would think something was wrong. That the madman was barely civilized to be part of society. His poor wife would be pitied as they talked amongst themselves about how she could have been duped into marrying such an oddity.
Feeling her hand squeeze his gently, he gazed at her momentarily. “Are you enjoying yourself?” he heard her ask.
“Yes, I find it quite unique,” he replied. “And I’m not talking about the play.”
She returned her attention back to the stage and he continued with his vigilance of seeing who was who by where they were when they sat. The royal box sat empty this evening. He decided they didn’t attend every performance. They saved their appearances for performers they thought well of.
Charles heard polite clapping as the first half concluded. It wasn’t the enthusiastic applauding one would expect, but then the ton was never known for being over enthusiastic.
He and Arthur stood and waited as Daphne and Cathryn left the box. Joining his brother for a whiskey, he wondered how long it would take before someone knocked on the door wanting a word with Arthur. His brother was, after all, an MP now, having taken over their late father’s position, and there was always someone who wanted Arthur’s ear. Coming to visit him at the box was a good excuse to meet Arthur’s mad brother.
The entire thing was absurd. Perhaps true to some degree, but absurd nonetheless. It would make the perfect novel. The entire idea was one he’d been contemplating for a while but he had the one project he had to finish. For now, he’d make notes, figure it out, and write it soon.
“What do you think of the play?” Arthur finally asked.
“Truthfully? I found the audience far more entertaining than what was transpiring on stage.”
Arthur chuckled. “I’m afraid I have to agree with you on this one.”
“Poor acting and execution,” Charles continued.
A knock on the box door had both brothers tense up. “Save that thought,” Arthur said as a well-dressed man entered. Overweight, hair slicked back, his face flushed from drink. He headed straight for Charles.
“You must be the mad twin,” the man said without introducing himself.
“Charles, this is Percival Williams, Marquess Sutherby.”
“My pleasure,” Charles said. “I am afraid you’ve gotten your stories up. I am not mad. A twin, yes, but mad? Never.”
“I apologize. How are you enjoying London?”
Before Arthur could put a stop to this, he saw his brother was going to answer the man. “It’s been quite interesting. There is so much to see and do, but I long for the tranquility of the country.”
“True. I do enjoy my summers at my summer country home.” The marquess turned to Arthur, a slight not lost on either Charles or Arthur. “I do hope you and the duchess will join us for our famous country party.”
“I’ll check with her and see what’s on her schedule. I’ve heard your parties are quite original and are talked about months after they’ve ended.”
“You’ve heard correctly.”
Charles heard the chimes indicating the second half of the play was about to begin. Hopefully now no one would come calling.
Just then the door swung open and in walked both women. They each accepted a flute of champagne a footman offeredbefore returning to their seats. Quietly, Charles and Arthur took seats next to them and waited for the play to begin.
Again, the theater went dark and the first of the men moved about back to find their wives. This time he did catch a glimpse of a small group of women sitting in a box and glancing in their direction. Word traveled fast during intermission about his attendance. Those who continued to look at the box were hoping for a sighting of him. This time, at least for now, he wouldn’t give them what they wanted. He sat back in his chair and when that didn’t work, he guided Cathryn to one of the chairs in the row behind them. Now they wouldn’t be in the spotlight.
By the time the foursome climbed into the carriage after the performance, it was late. It had been harder than normal to get to the carriage as they seemed to be the center of attention. And that made it impossible for them to go to a restaurant for dinner. Luckily Daphne had the foresight to realize this might happen and asked the cook to make something simple for when they did arrive later in the evening.
When they finally sat down in the breakfast room, footmen served them Cornish pasties, which were still hot. Cook knew they were well liked and made for an easy dinner. With it there was a selection of cheese and seasonal fruit. Perfect for such a late evening out.
“This beats any fancy restaurant meal,” Daphne muttered.
“No noise, no having to shout to have a conversation either,” Cathryn agreed.
Charles, who had eaten two pasties along with fruit and cheese, pushed himself away from the table. “If you all will excuse me, there are some things I need to take care of before I retire for the night.”
“It can’t wait until morning?” Cathryn asked.
“No, I’m afraid not.” With that, he walked out of the room, leaving the remaining three staring at each other with confusion.
