Men.
* * *
Inside the theatre, the murmur of human voices was replaced by the cacophony of musical instruments playing notes over one another. A thick set of red velvet curtains, decorated with the crest of the monarch, was drawn closed. Soft golden lights illuminated the interior.
“This is much more agreeable.” Papa smiled, seating himself next to Helen. From his pocket, he retrieved a set of silver spectacles and began to review the evening’s program. “A comedy in five acts?.?.?.?Shakespeare’sMuch Ado About Nothing. Capital. Capital,” he muttered.
How fitting that we are to see a play about the pair of Beatrice and Benedick, tricked into confessing their love for one another, Helen thought.
“I am pleased to see your father approves of the evening’s entertainment.” Mr. Marcellus relaxed against his seat.
“One can never err when Shakespeare is being performed.” She folded her hands atop her lap. “He is, after all, revered as one of the world’s foremost English language playwrights.”
“I sense you have other feelings, however?.?.?.”
“I personally would have preferred to see an operetta. I live vicariously through the costumes, the scenery, the music, and the performance. It is the closest I may ever come experiencing what it might be like to travel and see the world.”
Helen hoped she hadn’t spoken out of turn. Throughout her previous courtship, Mr. Chapman had never wished to hear her thoughts. Instead, he preferred to hear the sound of his own voice.
Mr. Marcellus crossed his legs. “And given the opportunity, where should you like to travel?”
“Everywhere I am allowed.” Her eyelids fluttered. “Were I a man, I would have spent at least two years exploring every inch of the continent on my own Grand Tour. I’ve read Papa’s journals countless times.”
“The continent is indeed a magnificent place to explore.” The corners of his eyes creased. “I can still recall the feeling of joy I had traversing the streets of Herculaneum and Pompeii. Or when my hired guide led me to the ancient Agora of Athens.”
Helen’s eyelids fluttered. “How dreamy.”
He sighed deeply. “I just hope that when the tyrant Napoleon is vanquished, the sights I once enjoyed will remain untouched. War knows no bounds.”
Helen shivered. To think that monuments built more than fifteen hundred years ago could be laid to waste by one man and his army both angered and saddened her.
Mr. Marcellus touched her hand. “Come now, Miss Davenport. There should be no long faces tonight. I may yet be proven wrong.” He lowered his voice and leaned forward in his seat. “Know this?.?.?. if we should be inclined to marry, when the war has passed, we will enjoy an extended tour of the continent. Together.”
Her pulse raced, and she licked her lips. She could picture herself and Mr. Marcellus cackling wildly as they rode a pair of camels in Egypt with the pyramids of the pharaohs behind them. She could hear the sound of his voice whispering poetry to her as they strolled across one of the many graceful bridges spanning the canals of Venice.
For the first time in her life, Helen saw herself as a married woman. The thought caused her body to tingle with waves of excited energy.
“Truly?” she whispered.
“Yes,” he murmured.
Footsteps brought the return of Aunt Sarah and Uncle William to the box. They seated themselves behind her and Mr. Marcellus.
A second bell rang, and the house lights dimmed.
“Excellent, we made it just in time,” Uncle William said.
Papa agreed.
Mr. Marcellus removed his hand from Helen’s.
The curtain began to rise. The orchestra took up their instruments, but Helen was engaged in studying the profile of Mr. Marcellus.
He has a strong jaw and such defined cheekbones. They would be sharp enough to cut a quill upon.
“Do you find me to be of more interest than the play?” he whispered.
Helen jumped in her seat. Her face burned. “No, Mr. Marcellus, not at all. I?.?.?. I?.?.?. I merely was wondering where I might have placed my opera glasses?”