Greville rounded upon him. "One more smirk, March, and so help me I'll throttle you with those damned garters!"
"Oh, come on, Seton, have you no sense of humor?" Oliver replied with a drawl that was almost the very smirk he had been warned about.
"I have an excellent sense of humor, sir, indeed I'd think it hilarious to get a certain Henry VIII codpiece and shove it up-"
"Greville!" cried Evangeline, shocked.
"I'm sorry, Aunt E, but it would be no more than he deserves!"
"Hear, hear," added Rupert.
Evangeline put her hands on her hips and glared at them all. "I am appalled by the standard of this rehearsal. I do not think any of you, except perhaps Chloe, are making any real attempt to do it properly. Now, then, we will begin again, and this time I expect you to work at it. Do I make myself clear?"
They all shuffled a little and murmured their agreement, and the rehearsal resumed. As the rehearsal droned on, Rollo grew bored. Inspired perhaps by memories of failing to levitate gravel, he passed the time by seeing how adept he could be with berries from the holly and mistletoe that now festooned the front of the stage. Several times he got things wrong, and the berries pattered to the floor, then rolled in all directions. A few people commented about these mysterious occurrences, but put them down to the greenery becoming dry indoors-although how a mere drying would catapult them for yards at a time was not explained. Megan knew what was happening, however, and was thinking about Rollo and the mystery of the church when she missed her cue.
Oliver cleared his throat. "Er, Miss Mortimer?"
She was miles away; well, perhaps not miles, just at St. Nicholas's.
Rollo whispered in her ear. "Thou art dreaming, sweetness?"
"Mm?"
"Thy beastly foe addresses thee. He is in error, but nevertheless he plunges in."
Oliver was irritated by her daydreaming. "Pray keep your mind on the matter in hand. Maria speaks to Malvolio now."
Megan's cheeks flamed. "Oh, yes, er,…" She looked hastily at the text.
Evangeline's nostrils flared. "No, Mr. March, it is not Maria who speaks now, but Feste! The lines are mine!"
Oliver colored. "I… Oh, forgive me, Lady Evangeline."
Evangeline glared at them all, defying anyone to point out that she had been the one who missed her cue. Not a word was uttered out of place, and after a moment she returned her attention to her pages. " 'God send you, sir, a speedy infirmity, for the better increasing your folly! Sir Toby will be sworn that I am no fox; but he will not pass his word for twopence that you are no fool.''
Chloe had the next line as Olivia. " 'How say you to that, Malvolio?' "
Greville spoke up in the flat tone he had employed throughout. " 'I marvel your ladyship takes delight in such a barren rascaclass="underline" I saw him put down the other day with an ordinary fool that has no more brain than a stone…' " His voice died away as he felt all eyes upon him, their owners in varying states of suppressed mirth.
His dull, measured delivery left Megan hard put to keep a straight face, and she had to bite her lip when she heard Rollo's disparaging snort. Chloe looked as if she would burst, and Rupert and Sir Jocelyn strove manfully to show no reaction, but Oliver grinned openly.
Evangeline threw her pages down in despair. "Great heavens above, Greville, you are the one who seems to have no more brain than a stone! Doesn't the Bard's genius impart anything to you at all?"
Chloe began to giggle, and in a moment Rupert had joined her. Sir Jocelyn bent double with laughter, and then Oliver joined in, albeit in a rather forced way because Chloe and Rupert began to share their laughter. Sir Jocelyn continued to laugh, but his quick glance moved from Chloe and Rupert to Oliver, and then back again. Greville tossed his script furiously into the air. "Oh, this is insufferable!" he cried.
"This old shade is in harmony with that," Rollo put in slyly from the direction of the tent.
The vestiges of Evangeline's patience disappeared. "I warned you about this sort of thing last night, Master Witherspoon!"
"But, sweet lady-"
"Enough! One more word and I will have nothing more to do with you!"
As always when she made such asides, everyone else fell into embarrassed silence. Oliver looked uncertainly at her. Was she deranged? Surely she must be, for she was addressing the tent!
Greville strode furiously out of the theater, and slammed the door behind him. Evangeline sighed. "Well, if he is that out of countenance with us, I suppose he must have been doing his best.'" She turned to Megan. "Miss Mortimer, please go after Greville and persuade him to return."
"Me? Oh, but-"
"Before Christmas, if you please!"
"Yes, Lady Evangeline." Putting her text unwillingly aside, Megan left the theater. She thought that any endeavors from her would make him dig his insulted toes in still further, but a command was a command. At last she found him in the summerhouse, sitting on a bench and gazing at the lily pond. In the apple tree the mistletoe swayed golden against a sky where the clouds were now almost leaden. The breeze was playful, and the noise of demolition not too intrusive.
He suddenly realized she was there, and began to get up, but she hastily prevented him. "Please don't, Sir Greville," she said, and took the liberty of joining him.
"I suppose my aunt has dispatched you to haul me back into the fold?"
"Yes."
"An unfortunate choice of messenger."
She smiled ruefully. "I fear so."
"At least you contained your mirth to some extent."
"Only just."
"I'm delighted to have been of such comic service to you all." He paused, then went on. "I'm also delighted to have provided that damned dog with such a diversion."
She looked quickly at him. "Diversion?"
"It tore my top hat to shreds, and then did something disgusting on the remains."
Megan stared. "I-I did not know."
"Perhaps because you were too busy quitting the scene of the crime."
"I only threw the hat, Sir Greville, I didn't intend it to meet such a horrible end."
He smiled then. "I'm glad to hear it, for if you'd thrown the unfortunate item and performed as the dog did, I would be very uneasy about sitting with you now."
She laughed a little, then looked away. "Why didn't you tell Lady Evangeline what I did? I thought you would seize upon it to have me dismissed."
"Perhaps because it was one instance when I could see the funny side." He looked away as well. He knew he could have caused a great deal of trouble for her by telling his aunt; he also knew that the letter he'd written to his friend in Bath was still in his pocket. He got up and went to the front of the summerhouse. "You think I have been most unfair to you, don't you?" he said without looking back at her.
"Yes, I do," she replied honestly.
He turned. "What of your unfairness to Sophia Strickland when you attempted to seduce her husband?"
Megan's lips parted. "Did-did Lady Evangeline tell you?"
"So my aunt knows, does she? I did not think she could. No, she didn't tell me, Miss Mortimer, I heard the sordid tale from Strickland himself."
Megan felt dreadful. The entire world appeared to know what Ralph claimed had happened; and those like Sir Greville Seton were only too eager to believe him! She composed herself, determined to be as dignified as possible. "Mr. Strickland did not tell the truth, Sir Greville, whatever you may wish to think to the contrary, and before you call me a liar, perhaps you should know that Lady Jane told Lady Evangeline about it. She did not attempt to defend her son; indeed, she admitted that he was at fault, not me."
"And still dismissed you? Oh, come now…"
"She preferred that to another long estrangement from her only family."