A Mystery Of Errors

“Well, for my part, that poses no great hardship,” Gresham said, with a shrug. “Howsoever I may put it to him, I shall incur my father’s anger and displeasure. ‘Twould be neither the first time nor the last. If he wishes to improve his lot through marriage, then let him find himself some rich merchant’s daughter who, unlike yourself, is concerned less with her heart’s desire than with her comfort. I am sure my mother, rest her sweet soul, would understand. My father’s ire is something I can bear without undue concern. But what of yourself, milady? Can we not devise some stratagem that will assuage or, at the very least, redirect your father’s anger at the failure of this match?”

“My father’s anger is something I have grown accustomed to as I have grown older, and become less the dutiful child and more the intemperate woman,” Elizabeth replied, with a grimace. “But, to be honest, I did have a plan of my own to thwart this match.”

Gresham raised his eyebrows. “Did you, indeed?” He looked amused. “Pray tell me what it was.”

“I had intended, this very night, to prove myself a wanton hussy and a slattern in your eyes, by flirting coyly with every man in sight, so much so that you would have been outraged and sorely embarrassed at my boldness and utter lack of manners and discretion. And in conversation, I would have displayed a lazy intellect and a complete lack of interest in anything save my own indulgence. ‘Twas my most earnest intent that by the time this night was ended, you would have found me quite unsuitable.”

Gresham threw back his head and laughed, so loudly that it threw off the actors on the stage, who were not, at that particular moment, delivering any lines that were comedic. They looked up toward the gallery in dismay, but Gresham paid them no mind whatsoever and, with some annoyance, they continued from where they had left off.

“I almost wish that I had given you the opportunity to go through with it,” he said, still chuckling over the idea. “But I much prefer that things have turned out as they did. ‘Tis better that we are honest with each other. However, be that as it may, I think your plan has much merit in it. We shall agree, then, that I was an insufferable boor who found you quite unsuitable, as you put it. Though we shall not, I think, put it off to any failing of your own. You comported yourself with the very essence of feminine charm and grace, but I simply did not find you to my liking, being spoiled and petulant and impossible to please. You have never met a man so lacking in manners and discretion. I was a pig. You were appalled. I found you unbecoming and did not hesitate to tell you so. That, I think, would make a nice touch to raise your father’s ire against me instead of you. And, with any luck, the next match that he proposes for you will be much more to your liking.”

“ ‘Tis not that I find you dislikable,” said Elizabeth. “At least, not anymore.”

Gresham chuckled again. “Nor I you. A man could do far worse and not, I think, much better. We understand each other. It has been a rare pleasure not marrying you, Miss Darcie. And since you seem to have no more interest in this execrable play than I do, perhaps you would allow me the pleasure of taking you home?”

6

THE MEMBERS OF THE COMPANY were not pleased with the play. The audience was restive, almost from the start, and a number of them had left before the second act. At the end, the applause had been indifferent, and there had been some boos and catcalls at the final bows. After the performance, they had repaired to The Toad and Badger to discuss what had gone wrong over bread and cheese and ale. Since they lived upstairs over the tavern, Smythe and Shakespeare had gone, too, as soon as they were finished with their duties at the stable. By the time they had arrived, tired, but looking forward to an evening’s relaxation, the company were already arguing amongst themselves, trying to find something-or someone-to fault for the failure of that night’s performance.

“ ‘Twas young Dick’s fault, if you ask me,” Will Kemp was saying as they came in. “He was much too heavy-handed with his part. It calls for lightness and expansiveness, like the tone I set in my speech during the prologue.”

“If by expansiveness you mean leering and grimacing and capering like a randy drunken fawn, then indeed you set the tone,” replied Richard Burbage, sourly.

“I’ll have you know I played my part just as well as Dick Tarleton would have played it!” Kemp protested.

“Well, if Dick Tarleton had been drunk to near insensibility and trotting through an Irish peat bog, then I suppose he might have played it that way,” Burbage said.

“The cheek! The impudence! Why, you young upstart…”

“Gentlemen, please…” John Fleming, one of the senior members of the company said, trying to make peace.

“Young upstart? I am just as much a member of this company as you are!” Burbage replied, hotly.