Nina Coombs Pykare (18 page)

The duke shrugged. “Very well, she may tell you.” He looked to Licia. “Whatever she thinks she knows.”

Mama smiled. “I do know. It was Dr. Graham’s celebrated bed.”

Ravenworth groaned, but his sister and Mama both ignored him.

“Dr. Graham’s bed!” Lady Lockwood exclaimed. “You know about it? Oh, marvelous! Absolutely marvelous. My Lockwood used to tell me such stories of that bed. Come, let’s go into the library. You must tell me everything you know.”

And while the others sat, mouths agape. Lady Lockwood led Mama away.

The dowager duchess was the first to recover. She burst into delighted laughter. “Hortense, I cannot believe it. All these years I thought Amanda was as prim as they come. There’s hope for her yet.”

Licia turned to the duke. “I am sorry,” she said. “I had no idea what Mama meant.”

His grace managed a rueful smile. “Of course you didn’t.”

Licia sighed. “How could she believe that the place of my . . . that the bed could gain me your love?”

He shook his head. “Your mama’s mind works in a most peculiar fashion.” His hand covered hers, giving her a strange sensation in the pit of her stomach and causing her breath to catch in her throat in a most uncomfortable fashion. “But,” he continued, “we should rejoice. After all, we have gained our objective.”

Chapter Fifteen

On Friday next, Ravenworth and Lockwood arrived to escort them all to the theater. Dezzie glowed as Lockwood helped her into the first carriage. “One month,” he said. “In one month you’ll be mine.”

Dezzie giggled. Ravenworth, having just helped the older ladies into the second carriage, raised an eyebrow. “The two of you sound like you’re fresh from the nursery. All this billing and cooing.”

Lockwood coughed. “No need to be so cold, old chap. You’ll put Miss Dudley off with such talk.”

Ravenworth smiled, but there was something different about his eyes, something Licia couldn’t understand. “Miss Dudley knows my sentiments on marriage,” he said.

Penelope chuckled. “Come, David. No pontificating on the institution’s limitations if you please. Let the young people be happy.”

Ravenworth grimaced. “You wound me, Pen.” He glanced at Licia. “Besides, has no one told you that my sentiments have changed? I am now one of the institution’s staunchest supporters.”

“That he is!” cried Lockwood. “Why, just the other— ouch! I say, Ravenworth, watch those long legs of yours. That hurt!”

Licia bit her bottom lip. The duke was not a clumsy man. The kick he had just delivered to his nephew had not been an accident, but, she suspected, an attempt to shut Lockwood up. What had the viscount been about to divulge?

But she was not to find out. Lockwood turned to Dezzie. “Tonight you’ll get to see Kean do Hamlet.” His face grew properly melancholy. “ ‘To be or not to be,’ “ he intoned dramatically.

Dezzie gazed at him with adoring eyes, but Ravenworth raised a hand. “Please, do let us wait for the play.”

Lockwood grinned and turned his attentions to Dezzie.

Licia, stealing a look at Penelope, swallowed a sigh. She was worried by the brightness of her cousin’s eyes, the fevered flush of her cheeks. Setting the date for Dezzie’s wedding had also meant setting the date for Penelope’s elopement. As soon as Dezzie was safely married, Penelope meant to be on her way to Gretna Green with Harry Bates. All need for pretense would be over then. But Penelope’s elopement would mean the end of Licia’s friendship with the duke. He would undoubtedly be angry at her complicity in such a thing.

“Whoever would have thought it,” Penelope said, “your sister and Dezzie’s mama becoming bosom bows. And over that ridiculous bed!”

Ravenworth shook his head. “I have never understood Amanda. She is not like me. She is not like Mama. If I did not know better, I should say she does not belong in our family. But after all, she has our father’s nose. And who can go against evidence like that?”

Licia smiled at this attempt to amuse. She must exert herself, she thought, to make this evening enjoyable. There would not be very many more. “Well, at least the bed served a useful purpose.” She cast Ravenworth a glance. “I have grown used to hearing the tale. In fact, I may begin to relate it myself—with sufficient elaborations, of course.”

Ravenworth’s eyes gleamed with humor. “It would make you the talk of the ton. But, alas, you would not do it.”

“I should hope not!” cried Lockwood, pulling at his cravat. “My mama may be dealing famously with Dezzie’s family at the moment. But what she talks about in private and what she—”

“Miss Dudley is bamming us,” the duke interjected with a smile. “Has love so addled your wits that you cannot tell?”

Lockwood grinned. “Yes, I believe it has. But I like it.”

“And you, David,” said Penelope. “Has love affected your wits too?”

Licia’s heart threatened to stop right then and there. How could Penelope talk to him like that, and when she knew this was all a sham?

“Perhaps it has,” he replied. “Tell me, what do you think?”

Penelope shook her head. “Oh, no, you don’t,” she said. “I am not hazarding a guess on that.”

Ravenworth turned to Licia. “Then I shall ask you, my dear, do my wits appear addled?”

In the light of the carriage lamps his expression was whimsical. Her heart rose up in her throat, but she endeavored to carry this thing off. “No, your grace. I’m afraid your wits are as sound as ever.”

Dezzie laughed. “Well, I’m afraid Mama’s are not. She is constantly mooning over the great Wellington.”

Penelope smiled brightly. Too brightly, Licia thought. “It is all this romance going on around her,” Penelope observed. “Aunt Dorothea has been affected by it. First it was Kemble. Now it is Wellington.”

“And soon it will be someone else,” Licia told her sister. “Do not trouble yourself about it.”

Lockwood frowned. “It is a shade difficult, though. Can’t she pick on a chap who hasn’t a wife? My mama—”

Ravenworth clapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t go off having a worry fit now, my boy. You’re young and in love. Enjoy it.”

Lockwood’s face cleared. “You’re quite right,” he said, and turned back to Dezzie.

The street outside Drury Lane was thronged with carriages. Chattering and nodding, glittering nobility packed the walk and made its way into the theater.

“Keep together now,” Ravenworth told the young women as he helped them descend from the barouche. “Lockwood, you stay with them till I get the others.”

As soon as the duke was gone, Licia leaned toward Penelope. “Are you feeling quite well?” she asked softly.

“I am fine,” her cousin replied. “I am counting the days till Dezzie’s wedding.” Her eyes grew brighter. “I am quite looking forward to it.”

“Penelope, please .
.
.
”

Penelope frowned. “I have waited long enough,” she whispered. “I must do this thing. And I must do it soon.”

“Penelope! You haven’t . . . you didn’t let. . .”

Penelope laughed, that harsh sound so unlike her usual soft laughter. “No, Licia, I haven’t. I would have. But he is an honorable man.”

“Penelope!”

“Do not look so shocked, Cousin. I am safe. Quiet now. Here comes David with your mama and mine.”

Amid considerable confusion Ravenworth got them all inside to his box and properly seated. Then he turned to Licia. “You’re looking pale, my dear. Are you feeling quite the thing?”

His solicitous look and the tenderness in his eyes caused a great lump to rise in her throat. She swallowed hastily. “I
.
.
. I am fine,” she lied. “Just . . .”

“David?” said Mama. Licia winced. In spite of his refusal to call her Mama, Mama had begun to call the duke by his Christian name.

He gave Licia’s hand a comforting pat. “Yes, Mrs. Dudley?”

“I wish you to warn me ahead of time. This Kean fellow quite ruined my enjoyment of
The Merchant of Venice.”
She cast Penelope a dark look. “Shylock, a person like us! Indeed!”

She turned back to the duke. “So tonight I do not wish to be surprised. What is this Kean person going to do to poor Hamlet?”

The duke smiled. “I’m afraid to tell you, ma’am, but he will probably make him more human too.”

“Oh, yes, ma’am,” Lockwood said eagerly. “Kean’s a great actor. Top of the trees.”

Mama sniffed. “I do not see how anyone could improve on Mr. Kemble’s presentation of the melancholy Dane. It was divine. Though the man himself was quite unfriendly, actually a boor.”

Ravenworth exchanged glances with Licia, and she smiled. He was really quite kind with Mama. Considering all he had gone through since that first day and the story of the bed, he had been more than kind.

She was about to tell him so, but the play began. It was the most amazing thing. The man who had given such humanity to Shylock now made Hamlet into a person one could understand. There was no dramatic posturing, no heroic poses or thundering soliloquies. Nothing but a man—a young, sorrowful man—caught in the throes of indecision, pulled to and fro by his warring emotions.

When the curtain closed for intermission, Ravenworth turned to Licia. “Well, what is your opinion?”

Before she could answer Mama turned round in her seat. “You are quite right, your grace. This man is marvelous. Why, for the first time I actually understand Hamlet. He’s just a poor, unhappy boy who doesn’t know what to do.” She swung round again. “Hortense, did you see .
.
.
”

“And you?” the duke asked Licia. “What did you think?”

“He’s wonderful. So different from Kemble.”

“And he must be much friendlier,” said Mama swinging round again. “When the play is over, we must go to the Green Room to meet him.”

Foreseeing another scene like that with Kemble, Licia was about to protest, but his grace spoke first. “That will be fine, Mrs. Dudley.”

“And I shall be sure to compliment him,” Mama continued, giving the duke a smile. “Such a great man.”

* * * *

After the play was over they proceeded to the Green Room. There the great man held court in the usual fashion. To Licia he looked distinctly uncomfortable, as though he wished to be somewhere else. Anywhere else. But perhaps that was only her own wish plaguing her.

“You
will
introduce me,” Mama began, hanging on Ravenworth’s arm.

“The other ladies . . .” he said.

“Go ahead,” said Aunt Hortense. “I’ve no desire to meet the man.”

“Nor I,” said Penelope.

Licia considered begging off. But not to know what Mama was saying was probably worse than hearing it.

Up close, the great man looked weary. His eyes were bloodshot and there was about him a hint of imminent disaster.

And then he smiled and Licia forgot everything.

to know what Mama was saying was probably worse than hearing it.

Up close, the great man looked weary. His eyes were bloodshot and there was about him a hint of imminent disaster.

And then he smiled and Licia forgot everything. “Ravenworth!” he said. “How good to see you. And this is the one who caught you. What a lucky fellow you are
.
”

Licia flushed. She could not get accustomed to these compliments.

Mama tugged impatiently at the duke’s arm. “Your grace .
.
.
”

“And this,” said the duke, “is her mother, Mrs. Dudley.”

“Oh, Mr. Kean, what a marvelous talent you have,” Mama gushed. “Why, I was telling David, here, that for the first time I really understand poor Hamlet. Tell me, please, why you behaved as you did when you saw the ghost.” And Mama led the actor off as if no one else in the room existed.

Ravenworth chuckled. “Your mama never ceases to amaze me,” he said. “She is one of a kind.”

Licia nodded. She only wished that that kind were a little easier to deal with.

* * * *

Some time later the crowd in the Green Room had begun to thin out and Aunt Hortense said, “I really think we should be going home. Now where is Dorothea?”

Licia, who had been happily discussing the play with the duke, was suddenly reminded that she had not seen Mama since she’d gone off with the actor.

“I shall look for her,” Ravenworth volunteered. “You wait here.”

“Nonsense,” said Aunt Hortense. “Two searchers are better than one.” And off she went too.

Licia scanned the room.

“That won’t help,” said Penelope with a frown. “She went out some moments ago.”

“Out?”

Penelope nodded. “I thought it strange at the time, but then I got busy talking and forgot. Oh, Licia! She asked me where the dressing rooms are! You don’t suppose she’s gone there?”

“Oh, no. Mama knows better than—”

“Then where else could she have gone?”

“Oh, dear, I had better go look. Do keep the others here. I’ll be back soon.”

The narrow hall was dark. Licia hurried along it, stopping now and then to peer at the names on the doors.

There it was at last—Edmund Kean. She knocked softly but there was no answer. She pushed the door open.

“Oh, Mr. Ke—” Mama’s eyes widened in astonishment. “Licia! What are you doing here?”

“Mama!” Hastily Licia stepped in and pulled the door shut behind her. “What
are you
doing here?”

“I am waiting for Mr. Kean, of course.”

“Mama! Mr. Kean is a married man!”

Mama sniffed. “He’s an actor.” She put on an air of innocence. “Besides, I am here to discuss
Hamlet.
Nothing else.” And she patted her hair in a gesture that gave the lie to her words.

“Mama, do think! The scandal. Lockwood’s mama. And the duke’s. You will ruin our wedding plans!”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Mama! You are here—alone in the man’s dressing room. You must leave immediately—before anyone finds you here.”

Mama considered this.

“Remember,” Licia continued, “you came to London for Dezzie’s come-out, to find her a proper husband. You don’t want to ruin her life.”

“That’s true,” Mama agreed. “Well, perhaps you are right.” She got to her feet. “But it’s all a lot of silly botheration.”