“Mmm, I vote both,” Lord Havenfort says. “Lady Demeroven?”
“Oh, I hope it’s not a morality play,” Mother says. “Dreadfully dull.”
“Sometimes they’re fun,” Beth argues. “If there’s enough that’s exciting before the moralizing kicks in.”
“Gwen, I think you’ve found a good friend,” Lord Havenfort says. Gwen grins.
“What did I say?” Beth wonders.
“Gwen is all for the blood sport and scandal, and then she’ll suffer a morality play. I find them interesting without.”
“Only because you like to deconstruct the story. You’ve no more room for morals than Benjamin Webster,” Mother says stiffly.
“Time has not dulled your edge, has it?” Lord Havenfort asks.
Mother shrugs and Beth settles back in her seat, dejected. It had seemed it was going rather well. Sportingly, but well. But Mother has her mind set on disliking the man, it’s clear. And once her mind is set it’s impossible to move her.
The lights go down to their lowest and the curtains open below them on the proscenium.
“I should not have shouted at you. The competition brought out the worst in me,” Lord Havenfort whispers.
“It did,” Mother agrees. “I didn’t intend to hit you with the mallet, for what it’s worth.”
Lord Havenfort chuckles. “That’s something.”
Mother sits up primly, the matter apparently settled. The two studiously avoid looking at each other and turn their attention to the production.
Gwen sighs and Beth shifts closer to her. “Not as bad as it could have been?” she whispers.
“I suppose,” Gwen agrees. “Toe to toe though.”
Beth nods, leaning into Gwen and forcing herself to focus on the stage rather than their quarrelsome parents.
It’s not a murder, and the morals are rather obvious, but Beth enjoys the characters and relationships ofGeorge Darville. Despite Lord Havenfort’s opinion of the man, Benjamin Webster gives an excellent portrayal of a man driven to despair by guilt. And Céline Céleste is radiant as Marion. Beth finds herself captivated by Céleste’s expressions—the way she turns from joy to grief, moves through anger and betrayal—it’s incredible.
“She’s beautiful,” Gwen whispers.
“Yes,” Beth agrees, a little awestruck. She’s never seen a woman embody a character so completely before. “It feels so real.”
“I’d like to clout him,” Gwen says.
“Trip him down the street.”
“A croquet mallet to the family jewels might be warranted,” Gwen returns.
Beth giggles, biting at her lip as Mother shushes them. Gwen snickers next to her.
“Incorrigible, you are,” Gwen whispers.
Beth swats at her knee and Gwen nudges back. Beth’s smile doesn’t leave her face for the rest of the performance, and they continue to whisper throughout. Gwen’s delight is infectious.
When the curtain goes down, the audience explodes inapplause. Beth and Gwen struggle to their feet, tugging at each other’s skirts to stand with the rest of the assembled. They clap enthusiastically, beaming. Gwen even whoops.
Beth glances over at their parents only to find them in a heated debate already.
“Oh dear,” she says, reality crashing back in on her. She elbows Gwen, who leans around her in dismay.
“I just don’t see why she had to die,” Lord Havenfort exclaims.
