A low rumble came from Mr. Marcellus’s throat. “Please. Take mine.”
She knew she had no choice but to accept his offer. Even if her own glasses were in fact tucked away in the reticule on her lap.
“Thank you, sir.”
She held them up to her eyes and stared straight ahead to the stage, too embarrassed to gauge the reaction of Mr. Marcellus.
And we have only just begun courting. What he must think of me!
* * *
Throughout the play, as hard as Helen may have tried to focus on the actors on the stage, she found it was much more interesting to watch how Mr. Marcellus reacted to the actors. When he was amused, the corners of his eyes wrinkled ever so slightly, and a pair of dimples appeared. When he was curious, he arched his left eyebrow and scooted forward to the edge of his seat.
Just as she felt she was beginning to be able to read his body language, the play came to an end. Helen snapped her head away from Mr. Marcellus and directed her gaze to the stage.
The audience roared with applause. Like Papa and Uncle William, Mr. Marcellus was quickly on his feet. He gave a blaring whistle and shouted, “Bravo! Bravo!”
Helen and Aunt Sarah gave a more muted, but still appreciative, applause.
“That was excellent. Shakespeare is a comedic genius, indeed,” Mr. Marcellus said. He slipped his white gloves onto his hands. “How did you find the play this evening, Miss Davenport? Was it to your liking?”
Helen stood. The muscles in her neck were taut with tension from staring at her suitor. “It was brilliant.” She hesitated. “I found the scenery to be lifelike—it successfully transported me to Sicily.”
Technically, it is not a fib. Except that I was engaged in watching Mr. Marcellus instead of the play. Thinking about a Grand Tour did transport me to Italy, just not Sicily, where the play is set.
“And Mr. Christensen, the actor playing Benedict? Was his delivery not perfectly sharp and dripping with sarcasm?”
Their party left Mr. Marcellus’s box and slowly descended the grand steps to the lobby of the theatre as he launched into an enthusiastic recount of the evening. Helen listened intently, nodding every few minutes. This was the most animated she had seen the man.
When he is relaxed, he is even more handsome. He appears so much younger and more carefree.
As they joined the crush waiting for the carriages to arrive, Papa draped Helen’s cape around her shoulders. “My dear, you’re rather mute.”
Helen blinked twice. “I’m sorry, Papa, I suppose I’m just a bit fatigued after the excitement ofMuch Ado About Nothing.”
Uncle William patted her hand. “Not to worry, Helen. Our carriage should be arriving momentarily.”
Butterflies fluttered in her stomach. Was the night to end so soon? She wanted to spend more time in the company of Mr. Marcellus.
As if reading her mind, Mr. Marcellus sighed. “Just as well. All good things must come to an end.” From his pocket, he removed a watch fob and reviewed the time. “It’s later than I thought. Unfortunately, I have two appointments rather early in the morning that cannot be put off.”
Uncle William also checked the time. “What a shame, Mr. Marcellus, we would have loved to invite you over for a night cap. You are always welcome at number twelve Curzon Street. If you are not so inclined to call upon Helen, Hugh and I would welcome your company.”
“William,” Aunt Sarah admonished.
Papa chuckled.
“Will you at the very least let our carriage convey you home?” Uncle William asked.
Mr. Marcellus shook his head. “There is no need. I reside close and will return by foot.
I will say my farewells to you here.”
“Very well, sir,” Uncle William nodded.
The Greenly carriage slowed as it pulled to the head of the parade. Helen rubbed the palms of her hands against the skirt of her dress.
“Here we are.” Uncle William extended his arm to Aunt Sarah.