Free Stages of Desire by Julia Tagan

the bait, and kept her tone even. “I know the play backward and forward and I can quickly stage it. If we spend the day repairing the costumes and sets and packing up, we’ll get in a run-through before dinner and leave first thing tomorrow.”
    No one spoke, so she carried on. “Look, I’m promising you a decent job. If you run to Bibby, who has a full roster of players already, there are no guarantees as to what kind of part you’ll get. The way I see it, you can play a lead in Birmingham or be a sword-carrier in Swindon.”
    Mrs. Kembler and the boy smiled and nodded their heads, and Adam gazed up at Harriet with pride.
    Toby wasn’t as easily convinced. “Your dad gave me my start; he took a chance on me. But I don’t trust him anymore and I don’t know you.”
    What could she do to change his mind? He was being stubborn and surly. In fact, his behavior reminded her of the most miserable character in the play.
    â€œWhat if I promise you the role of Jaques?” She didn’t have to mention the role included one of the best speeches Shakespeare had ever written. What actor could resist a soliloquy?
    Toby straightened up. “Jaques?”
    â€œI’m sure you already have the seven ages of man speech memorized, right?”
    Toby burst into iambic pentameter. After the first two lines, Harriet clapped enthusiastically. “A perfect fit.”
    â€œI will do it as long as I get three shares in the production.”
    More shares for Toby meant fewer for the rest of the cast, once the ticket receipts were tallied.
    â€œWe’ve known your dad a long time,” said Adam. “We owe it to him to try to help. I agree.”
    â€œMe too, love.” Mrs. Kembler’s lips trembled. The woman cried easily, whether as the nurse at Juliet’s deathbed or while playing a madcap farce. Still, Harriet appreciated the sentiment.
    â€œThen let’s get to work.” She beamed. “The Farley Players are going to Birmingham!”
    * * * *
    Miss Entwhistle was surprisingly quiet during the carriage ride to Chipping Norton. William’s former nursemaid had aged quite a bit since he’d last seen her. Brown hair had turned a snowy gray and her plump chin obscured her neck completely. During his youth, she’d often chattered on without end, in a way he’d found comforting after his mother passed. Yet during most of the carriage ride, she simply nodded and smiled at William, supplied short answers to his inquiries, and gazed out at the farms and fields beyond. Perhaps she was close to using up her lifetime quota of words, and had to speak sparingly lest she run out. In any case, William welcomed her silence as he guided the horses along the uneven roadway.
    After getting directions in the hardscrabble village of Chipping Norton, William pulled up to a decrepit cottage. For a ward of the duchess to be staying in this hovel was preposterous. He knocked on the door but there was no answer. He told Miss Entwhistle to stay put and wound around to the back.
    Laughter rang out from the inside of a large barn behind the cottage, one that was in dire need of new paint. The door was wide open, and inside, Miss Farley stood upon a large wagon, reaching down to grasp a trunk being hoisted by a young boy. She wore a simple gray twill that enhanced the smooth whiteness of skin, her hair tumbled down her shoulders and the muscles in her arms tensed with effort. Her movements were sure and fluid, as if she were part of an elaborate dance. A bolt of desire ran through him, and for a moment he wasn’t sure she was the same gangly girl he’d met in London.
    â€œWhat on earth is going on here?”
    A round man who’d been rolling up enormous swaths of black cloth stared, his mouth agape. Near him, seated on a hay bale, a middle-aged woman dressed in a riot of teals and yellows looked up with great interest from her sewing. Harriet jerked upward,