Free A Private Performance by Helen Halstead Page A

and she replied:
    â€œIt was on Twelfth Day not at all.
    For we were wed when leaves did fall.”
    This was rewarded with a standing ovation as she rose and followed Lord Misrule to the dais, and accepted her crown, cloak and ring. She turned, took the King’s offered hand and they stepped to the front of the dais; and, in answer to the shout “Behold your Queen!”, she accepted the deep obeisance of her court.
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    â€œOh, Lizzy!” Kitty exclaimed. “Were you not dreadfully embarrassed?” She had come at two o’clock in the afternoon, finding her sister still at breakfast with her husband.
    â€œWhy should she be?” asked her brother-in-law. “She looked the part.”
    â€œI own to feeling somewhat prominent, but it is remarkable to what one can accustom oneself.”
    â€œHow many people were there?”
    â€œThree hundred or so. They next performed the play.”
    â€œWas it very amusing?” asked Kitty eagerly.
    â€œThe usual Twelfth Night nonsense,” replied Darcy.
    â€œWere there no more dances? Did you not dance, Lizzy, after they made you queen?”
    â€œThere were two more dances. The first I must dance with the king.”
    â€œDid you like him?” Kitty looked guiltily at her brother-in-law, hoping he would not object to this.
    â€œMr. Whittaker?” said Elizabeth. “I cannot say. He is amusing certainly, but not, I think, altogether sincere. He is of a cynical turn and, I should imagine, very vain. I know not why he chose me. I fancy he would hate to attribute his choice to gallantry.”
    Kitty found her eyes again wandering irresistibly to Darcy. His expression was impenetrable. Elizabeth continued: “We walked all the way up the set to the top, with all the other dancers bowing their deepest bows. Some of the ladies are very accomplished, sinking almost to the floor. Were I not so modest, I may have found the experience intoxicating.”
    â€œWith whom did you dance the last?” Kitty needs must have every detail.
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    On the way to the ball Elizabeth and Darcy had arranged to have the final dance together. Elizabeth’s promotion to queen interfered with this. Mr. Whittaker had gallantly chosen the hostess, as indeed the king always did.
    Then Lord Misrule proclaimed:
    â€œFrom o’er one hundred gentlemen fine,
    Now choose, O Queen, which shall be thine.”
    Certain gentlemen felt that their rank and talents qualified them to be the queen’s partner. Elizabeth named her partner to Lord Misrule, who called:
    â€œShe’s looked at one then at the rest;
    And since she’s queen, she’ll take the best.”
    He looked around:
    â€œFrom the way I see them preen,
    More than one man thinks it’s him she’s seen.”
    Elizabeth caught Darcy’s impassive look. He gave her a rueful little smile. Then Lord Misrule called:
    â€œIt matters not if she speaks not his name;
    One courtier or another it’s all the same.
    She believes he hails from the north, do you see,
    He’s tall and he’s dark, his initials F.D.”
    â€œOff with his head!” called Mr. Whittaker.
    However, the queen had spoken; and they had the happiness of enjoying the last dance together after all.
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    It was after four in the morning when the guests were finally on their way home.
    In the darkness of their carriage, Amelia Courtney said: “Do you know, Teddy, Lady Englebury told me that Mrs. Darcy puts her in mind of someone. I imagine she means Lady Jeanette. My poor aunt, to have lost her only child.”
    â€œWho would have been but the second marchioness in her own right in the family. Her death was a great misfortune for one of her ladyship’s views.”
    â€œThat is very ungenerous of you! I wish you to try to like her more.”
    â€œI beg your pardon, my love. I will try, though your aunt seems loath to return the compliment,” said Courtney. Then,