Lament for a lost lover

He touched my cheek lightly and said: “For that we must wait and see.” We talked then of England as we remembered it, and because I was with Edwin it was the gay things I remembered. When I was with him I could share his outlook on life. Everything was pleasant; if it was not, one shut one’s eyes to it and refused to acknowledge its existence. It seemed a good way of living. The play was to be performed at six o’clock and after that there was to be a feast in the dining hall. The audience’s seats would be hastily removed and the old trestle tables set up and the food all ready in the kitchen would be brought in. With great ingenuity and with the help of some of the grooms, Harriet had arranged that a portion of the hall at the side of the dais should be curtained off, and there the actors would await the appropriate moment to step nimbly onto the dais and play their parts. Charlotte was to be in the hidden section with a sheaf of papers to prompt those who forgot their lines. I was very conscious of Charlotte. She was trying to be bright and not quite managing it, and she looked mournful in repose. I knew it was because of Charles Condey and I felt guilty because I also knew that his feeling for Charlotte had grown lukewarm since Harriet had bewitched him. I was angry with Harriet. She should be ashamed, for it was clear that she had no deep feelings for Charles Condey.

As the day progressed the tension within the chateau increased early afternoon the actors retired to their rooms to preзare themselves.

P o’clock we were all assembled. Seats had been set up in hall and everyone for miles around who could possibly come present. The servants were there in force, so it was a fairly audience. We could not complain of them, for there was a bed silence as the play began and I doubted many of them had ever seen anything like it. Harriet’s supervision had meant that to uncritical eyes we were by no means bad, and to see the ancient hall transformed into a theatre was something magical.

My first scene was with Harriet and of course it was her scene. It was only when Edwin and I came face to face that I really felt I was giving my best. I couldn’t help thrilling with pleasure when he, seeing me from afar, said I hung upon the cheek of night like a rich jewel on an Ethiop’s ear, and I was to remember for a long time after, the thrill of hearing him say of Juliet, “I ne’er saw true beauty till this night.”

And so it seemed to me we played for each other. We were the lovers. We met and loved - at least I did - as those two did. Surely, I told myself, he could not have played as he did if he had not cared for me.

I think I did rather well in the mausoleum scene. To see Edwin lying there, poisoned, I understood exactly how Juliet must have felt, and I believe I was really tragic when I snatched his dagger and pretended to plunge it into my heart and fell across him.

It was typical of Edwin that he should propose in such circumstances. “Cheer up,” he whispered. “Will you marry me?” I was carried completely back into reality, for I had really been thinking of how heartbroken I would be if he were dead. Edwin was suppressing his laughter and I had difficulty in doing the same. The final speeches were made. The Duke had commiserated on the follies of enmity and the families had become friends. The play was over. Everyone applauded wildly. Edwin and I sprang to life and came to stand with the others to take our bow. Harriet, hovering in the centre, took a hand of each of us and we stood there together.

She spoke to the audience and said she hoped they had enjoyed our effort. They must forgive us our faults, but we had done our best, at which Lady Eversleigh replied that she and her guests, she knew, would remember it forever. Then Edwin stepped forward.

“I have an announcement to make,” he said. “It is a new ending to the play. Romeo and Juliet did not die after all. They lived on to marry and be happy ever after.” He turned, and taking my hand, brought me to stand beside him. “I have great pleasure in telling you that this night Arabella has promised to become my wife.” There was brief silence and then the applause rang out. Lady Eversleigh came onto the dais,- she held out her arms and embraced us both. Then she kissed us solemnly. “It is the perfect ending,” she said.

The feast was prolonged. There was singing and dancing. The guests were very merry. It was nearly midnight when those who could reach their homes left and the others settled down to the accommodation they could find at Villers Tourron. I had remained in my Juliet costume, and in the room I shared with Harriet I was reluctant to take it off. I felt the magic would somehow end if I did. Harriet was watching me.

“You will remember this evening for quite a long time, I should imagine,” she said.

“I suppose one does remember the day one is betrothed.”

“Very dramatic, wasn’t it?” she said. “Trust your future husband for that.”

“It seemed the right moment.”