Chapter Twenty-Five
V incent read the morning edition of The Times each day before going to Parliament, and every evening as well. Nothing from Ambrose. He had allowed him to get away with plagiarism for so long, the rascal was not taking him seriously.
After five days, he wrote to his solicitor and told him to move forward by filing with the Court of Chancery. That meant Brilliance would have to be summoned. It shouldn’t worry him, except it did. She was so damnably unpredictable.
It was hard to trust her to maintain the correct amount of gravitas, all the while worrying she wouldn’t talk about trying to cure stage fright with fruit or go on about pitchforks. Shaking his head, Vincent finished the letter, signed and sealed it, and rang for his butler.
He ought to send a missive to Brilliance as well, letting her know he was proceeding with the lawsuit and, thus, a trial. On the other hand, it would be better to contact her after he received a court date and time, which could be weeks, if not months into the future.
Honest with himself, he couldn’t wait that long to see her again. Recalling Lord Redley, however, Vincent didn’t want to poach on another man’s land. He frowned. That wasn’t sound thinking. Brilliance was an unattached, self-governing female. Until Lord Redley proposed, then Vincent could pursue her.
Was that what he wanted to do? Damn right, he did!
Thus, he drew out a fresh piece of stationery.
Dear Lady Brilliance,
Will you come to a play with me this Friday evening? I will see what is being offered at Theatre Royal. Haymarket, of course, not Drury Lane.
Yours,
Hewitt
He looked it over and smiled. The tepid, terse, almost disinterested missive hardly captured the emotions swirling inside him. Regardless, he sent it off to her. In person, he could impart how warm his feelings for her still were.
To his relief, she accepted. With excited anticipation, as if he were escorting her for the first time, he directed his carriage to the Diamond residence. Under her parents’ gaze, he escorted her to his carriage, along with her ever-present maid.
“I never told you what we were going to see,” Vincent said as soon as they were underway to the theater. “What if it is a play you have already attended?” He was suddenly thinking of her heading out for an evening with Redley. Perhaps at its conclusion, they kissed. She was an eager kisser, as he’d experienced.
“I have not been to many plays,” Brilliance said. “The only one I have seen lately, a few weeks ago, was Guy Mannering . Is that what we’re seeing tonight?”
He sighed with relief. “No.”
“That’s good,” she agreed. “Although seeing it again with you would be different. In any case, as long as we are not seeing a tragedy by Mr. Shakespeare, I am sure I will enjoy it.”
The devil take him! His relief drained from him, but all wasn’t lost. “How about a comedy by Shakespeare?”
“Did he write any comedies?” Brilliance asked. “It seems everything of his I have seen had many bodies piling up on the stage by its end.”
“Did you see Hamlet ?” he asked.
She nodded. “I confess I had no idea what was happening during most of it. Regardless, the scene with the witches was very well played. I have also seen King Lear . I could not keep the characters straight in my mind, but they all seemed most treacherous.”
“This play has no murders in it,” he promised her. “It is called Twelfth Night .”
“Like the Twelfthtide? I shall try to make sense of it then, but I’m afraid the tricky Elizabethan language often confuses me. If you don’t mind my asking occasionally what is going on, then I will enjoy it immensely. And I love the intermission.” She gave a small chuckle. “I could say the opening of the curtain and the intermission are my favorite two parts of a play.”
Vincent wouldn’t have interrupted her for a block of gold, waiting for whatever she would say next.
“The curtain, due to that moment of anticipation when something magical is about to happen,” she explained. “And the second because everyone is always in such a good mood.”
He could not deny she spoke the truth. “Perhaps that is because the audience members are stretching their legs after a long start to the play and also because they are finally allowed to enjoy a glass of wine.”
Brilliance’s laugh was contagious, and Vincent joined in. Even her maid smiled from the corner of the carriage.
Vincent felt like the luckiest man alive, escorting Lady Brilliance. As soon as she gave her black wool cloak to the coatroom manager, revealing a gown of silver satin beneath, every male eye turned to admire her figure.
His mouth going dry, Vincent swallowed with difficulty. As her gown glittered in the lamplight, she sparkled like a diamond, but he would bite his tongue off before saying anything so trite. Yet he could tell her the truth.
“I have never seen a lovelier lady in my life.”
Instantly, her cheeks turned rosy, and a smile bowed her lips. With her blue eyes sparkling up at him, she said, “Thank you. I am better than a wedge of cheese, I guess.”
“Indeed, my lady, you are. Tastier, too.”
His words caused her blush to deepen, although Vincent knew she could not imagine how far beyond the taste of her lips his thoughts were leading him.
They went into the auditorium rather than lingering in the lobby. While he wanted to show her off, she wanted to get to their seats and read the playbill.
“Then I have a chance of understanding what I am about to see.”
“I don’t think you will have any difficulty,” he said, taking her arm and leading her into box seats. Her maid took one of the two spare seats behind them. Once Brilliance was settled and perusing the program, he tapped it to get her attention.
“The play goes along like this: Viola, although disguised as a man, is in love with Orsino, who is in love with Olivia. But she is in love with Cesario, who is really Viola’s male disguise.”
Brilliance shook her head. “I shall be utterly lost about five minutes after the curtain rises,” she said and closed the playbill. “I ought to have studied more when my mother sent me to school. Or at least tried to listen to my tutor instead of wool-gathering.”
“What were you thinking about when you weren’t being an attentive student?” he asked.
She grinned. “You will think me odd, perhaps. I was making up stories about people living up there.” She pointed up.
“On the roof?” he asked.
That seemed to tickle her greatly for she began to chuckle. “No, not upon the roof of the Theatre Royal.” She kept laughing. He adored her joyful nature. “My tutor had told me about the solar system. Don’t look so surprised, my lord. I know a little — sometimes very little — about many things. Mostly trivial things. And so, when I was supposed to be listening but found myself bored, I would imagine people on the other planets, riding fish instead of horses or flying like birds rather than walking. Indeed, I thought up entire new civilizations.”
“That sounds as important as anything your tutor was teaching, even Shakespeare.”
She shrugged delicately. “When I grew tired of colonizing planets, then I imagined people living deep underground and how they might spend their days without sunlight.”
Vincent was fascinated. “How did they?”
“How did they what?”
“Spend their days without sunlight?”
“Are you really interested?” she asked. When he nodded, she said, “I have never told anyone about my silly musings. I gave the underground dwellers strong lamps made out of worm oil, like sperm whale oil, but they were squeezing fat worms instead. Then I decided that, having never seen the sun, they wouldn’t need lamps after all. They just existed in the darkness but with all their other senses working perfectly.”
“Maybe they wouldn’t even have eyes,” he said, warming to the topic of creating new worlds.
Brilliance scrunched up her face. “That’s distressing to think of, my lord.” She glanced around, and he saw when something caught her eye. In fact, she gasped softly.
“They are here,” she said. “Mr. and Mrs. Castern.”
Vincent’s good feelings evaporated, and he followed where she gazed. Sure enough, Ambrose and Lydia were in a box on the other side, obviously being hosted by a nobleman. He realized it was the Duke of Monmouth.
Vincent couldn’t blame the old duke. After all, everyone celebrated Ambrose and had done so since he’d first burst onto the concert stage three years earlier. Who didn’t enjoy fine music and thereby want to fete the person who played it?
“The sooner we go to court, Chancery not Buckingham Palace,” Brilliance said, “the better. The last time I went to dinner, I was disbelieved while trying to explain that Mr. Castern was a plagiarist.”
The hair stood up on the back of Vincent’s neck. “Excuse me, my lady. What are you saying? Moreover, why am I only just hearing about this disturbing event?”
She shrugged. “Lord Redley escorted me to his aunt’s home. She is Lady Danson, who, as it turns out, is a patron of Mr. Castern. I assume that means she gives him money, and he pretends to like her more than he likes other people.”
“Just so,” Vincent muttered. “Have I ever told you how clear-thinking you are?”
“No,” she said. “Only that I am an immature adult and a dunderhead.” Her words hung in the air between them, like cannon balls — heavy and dangerous.
“Before we say anything else, I want you to know I was out of my head. Hurt by what I thought was your betrayal, I was not thinking rationally.” Vincent took her hand. “I know you to have an original mind, one which I admire and hold in the highest esteem. Your thoughts are precious and perfect. Will you forgive me? More than that, can you try to forget my vicious tirade?”
He thought she would take a minute to consider his apology. She didn’t. Instead, she nodded instantly. “I will try to forget what you said. Even if I cannot, I won’t keep a grudge, although I did for a while. And I forgive you because I have come to understand how I overstepped, albeit unintentionally.”
“Thank you.” He desperately wanted to kiss her. Perhaps she could raise her fan and he could duck behind it, but as he looked around, he saw her maid’s brown eyes trained upon her mistress. Perhaps not.
“Regarding the dinner party, I am sorry you had to experience such unpleasantness. I know what it is like not to be believed.”
Brilliance rested her gloved hand on his leg in sympathy, and he suddenly couldn’t breathe, with sizzling heat radiating from where she touched him and beyond.
“It wasn’t too bad,” she assured him. “In the end, Mr. Castern and his wife left first, but seeing how people were not pleased at how I had called him a thief, I departed, too. I don’t believe Lord Redley will be escorting me anywhere again.”
She didn’t sound unhappy about that, which was a relief. However, the incident could only have increased Ambrose’s hostility toward Brilliance. He looked to where the wretch sat on the opposite side of the theater.
“Do you wish to leave?” Vincent asked.
“Not at all. If you don’t mind, I would like to see the play.”
He didn’t mind in the least, sitting close beside this beautiful, unique woman who apparently was now loyally on his side. It was an uplifting feeling, knowing he was believed and trusted.
The Master of the Theater came out on the stage. Everyone applauded.
“You are in for a special treat tonight,” he told the audience. “As you know, Miss Adelaide Biddles will be playing the part of Viola, and Mr. Henry Irving is our Orsino.”
Enthusiastic applause broke out for two of London’s favorite actors.
“Before the curtain rises, I wish to also welcome a special member of the audience this evening. The composer, Ambrose Castern, is with us, along with his lovely wife.”
Again, the audience burst into applause. Vincent seethed quietly while both Ambrose and Lydia rose to their feet and waved at those in the cheaper seats below them, basking in the crowd’s adoration.
Sickening! Especially Lydia, since he knew she was the one who had actually taken the pages from his home. If ever a woman deserved to be tarred and feathered, it was that treacherous laced mutton. He was almost ready to ruin Brilliance’s evening and leave.
After a few moments, the two pretenders retook their seats.
Then, to his amazement, Brilliance rose to her feet beside him.
“Excuse me,” she called out into the now hushed auditorium. Since the theater lights were still on, every head swiveled toward her voice. Brilliance could see when Mr. Castern and his wife realized who was speaking. His eyes bulged and Mrs. Castern’s mouth opened in a large O .
Clearing her throat, she said, “I am Lady Brilliance, youngest daughter of Lord Diamond.” She gave a friendly wave of her hand as a murmur went up.
Vincent made a choking sound, and then she felt his hand upon her own, tugging at her to regain her seat. She ignored him.
“That man, Mr. Castern is a good pianist to be sure. However, he is not a composer. Every note he plays was written by the gentleman beside me, Lord Hewitt.”
There was a general gasp and then louder mutterings all around the theater.
“What is the meaning of this?” demanded the theater manager.
“Since I do not wish to leave and since Lord Hewitt has agreed to explain this play to me, I shall take my seat and you may continue. I simply would find it difficult to sit here all night after hearing such a misrepresentation of Mr. Castern. If he had any decency, he, too, would not wish to be represented as something he is not, but apparently, he has no such qualms. You may now begin.”
She took her seat and glanced at Vincent. He was staring at her as if she had grown a third eye.
“You are —” he began.
Brilliance waited with trepidation, wondering what he might say.
“ — Amazing,” he finished at last. “Not only brave but downright fearless.”
Meanwhile, the auditorium was still full of rumbling as people discussed her interruption. The theater manager stared up at her for a long moment. Perhaps he would try to throw her out.
Finally, with an awkward bow, he disappeared behind the curtain.
“Do you know the Duke of Monmouth?” she asked Vincent, while keeping an eye on the duke’s box. The esteemed, older nobleman had his arms crossed and was eyeing his guests.
“Not personally,” Vincent said. “He no longer serves in the House of Lords.”
“His Grace has been in my home. I have dined with him at my father’s table. I shall send him a letter tomorrow. He should know what kind of person he is hosting in his theater box.”
The gaslights were dimmed, except for a few dotted here and there on the auditorium’s outer edge, and the red velvet curtain parted in the middle, swaying open.
“I do not know how to thank you,” Vincent said.
“That’s simple,” she told him. “You can explain to me what’s happening.”
Brilliance paused and wondered if she dared tell him what she really wanted. Then deciding to listen to her own counsel, she added, “And you may kiss me sometime before we part at the evening’s end.”