Page 34 of Her Summer Duke

The young man smiled.

“I do. And you are just in time, they will begin very soon.”

Margaret paid for the best tickets that they could afford.

She did not wish to be seated down at the bottom of the theatre, amongst the rough and tumble of ordinary people.

As the women entered the theatre, they were in awe of its elegance. They made their way to their seats in the upper tier – not quite in the same rarefied air as a box, but far better than the packed lower floor. Margaret pulled on Phoebe’s sleeve,

“We have some time before the beginning. Let’s talk about important matters, not frivolous items. Let’s talk of love.”

Phoebe laughed.

“Love? Oh my.”

“No, I am serious. Do you believe it is possible to love someone say, like, uh, well, Lord Percy Harrington?”

“What a puerile question. I don’t know. What can love be, really? I have no idea. You are the expert, Margaret. You are in love with Captain Halstone, so you are better to judge the matter of what is love.”

Margaret smiled.

“Yes, dear cousin, I do tend to have more experience. I mean, of course, I have been courted by Saltonbury for eight years, but believe me, that is not a relationship of love. Love makes your stomach feel filled with flutterings and your lips go dry and your heart pound.”

“And you feel none of that with Saltonbury, have never done so?”

“Not a twinge, dear cousin. Not a twinge. However, for the purpose of exploration, would you marry Lord Percy Harrington over say, your Lord Montpelier?”

Phoebe sat very still as she thought.

“You do perplex me, Margaret. My life seemed so much simpler when I did not have these questions that you ask, to make me think! I often wonder what life I will have with Lord Montpelier. I do not think in terms of love. I suppose if I were to be in love with him it would be a boon, would it not?”

“True.”

“Well, what about you? You have the dilemma of the Captain and the Ensign. The Ensign was not real, but merely a character created for the Masquerade Ball at which you met him.”

Margaret shook her head.

“No, he is real, he is the Captain. I was originally unreasonable with my anger, after all, it was a Masquerade Ball and he came as the Ensign. He spoke of deceit, but is a Masquerade Ball deceit?”

~~~~~

Unbeknownst to the two women, Adam could hear their conversation from where he sat, not far behind them. He put his hand over his heart every time he heard his Lady Margaret’s voice. He wanted to go up to her and wrap his arms around her shoulders and say, it is I! I am here my love!

But instead he sat very still, listening to the women converse. Such an opportunity to understand her better should not be wasted.

Lady Phoebe sighed.

“I believe that I prefer Lord Montpelier. He is, well, his features please me, much more than Lord Percy’s paunch. Lord Percy may have handsome features, it’s true, but his bodily shape – well, it is not that of a man who cares to keep himself fit.”

She giggled.

Margaret nodded.

“Yes, one would have to question how close one can get to him with that paunch betwixt you. You are aware that I was never in love with Saltonbury. He was familiar to me for eight years, a friendship, but this is not love. Guilt is not love. Nor is gratitude. I felt guilt that he had saved my life and my father had promised my hand to him in gratitude, and that I did not feel deeply for him. I was, and am, grateful to him for saving me, yet that is not enough – and because it is not, I have also felt guilt that I cannot love him, as my father wished that I would. But I know now, absolutely, guilt is not love. Which is why I have cried off from that promise, once and for all.” She rested her hands in her lap. “I am sure that my heart belongs to Ensign Chester.” She paused, and looked into her cousin’s face, “I need to think of him by his true name, Captain Halstone. He made my heart leap with joy. And I knew in an instant that he was the one I loved. Oh Phoebe, that is what real love can do.”

Phoebe put her hand on Margaret’s sleeve.

“So are you saying that love is joy?”

“Most assuredly. Love is definitely joy.”

Phoebe abruptly asked, “Do you believe that we will be in dire trouble for sneaking out?”

Margaret grinned. “Most certainly. Likely the worst trouble that I have ever been in.”

The lamps around the stage were lit, and a man stepped out into the sudden blaze of light. A hush fell. The two women spoke no more, their gazes riveted to the performance.

Adam had no need to listen further. His heart was light and his soul happy. Lady Margaret had distinctly announced that she was ‘sure’ that she was in love with Ensign Chester, was not Ensign Chester in essence actually him? No matter what the original argument, there was no other Ensign Chester, other than he. He tapped his hands on the arms of the theatre chair.

Yes, Lady Margaret loved him in the personage of Ensign Chester. He briefly wondered if he should seek out an Ensign’s uniform. Would Lady Margaret be more responsive to him if he were in the Ensign’s attire? Likely not – for that would be perpetuating a lie.

He found it more and more difficult to concentrate on the play before him. Finally, he slipped out of his seat and went out the door to the street. He could no longer gaze at her from afar. If he stayed in the theatre, he would be unable to stop himself from going to her, to explain that he was, indeed, still in love with her and was ecstatically happy that she was in love with him. He had heard it from her very own lips and nothing could take those words away from him. It was confirmation of her enduring love.

She was ‘sure’. Sure was as solid a word as any. He could barely endure the thought that he must wait until twelve tomorrow to declare his love, but he would, for he would not create a stir and a scandal in a public theatre.

He walked back to the beachfront promenade, along King’s Road, and hailed a hackney cab. He would return to his Inn, and sleep well, perchance to dream of Lady Margaret, and the morrow.