Chapter Nineteen #2
Elizabeth smiled, but turned her face toward her lap.
She began to examine her own book, twisting her lips to one side and then the other.
“I confess, I have never cared for this play. I suppose it would serve our hostesses right if I took the role of Bianca, and not Katherina. I cannot imagine you as Petruchio.”
“I saw the play in Italy, but that was six years past.” Darcy began to scan the scenes in which Petruchio was featured. He grimaced as he reached the final scene. “Well.”
Elizabeth laughed at his severity. “Poor Mr. Darcy! You look as if you would rather be struck by lightning than speak to anybody that way.”
“I cannot like the message the story converts, though I recall I enjoyed the lively performance – they performed in an Italian style called commedia – it is very physical.”
Elizabeth raised her brows and resumed reading. “I can imagine that must have been most amusing – this bit here about stingers and tails….”
“Not in the… scandalous sense, Miss Elizabeth – it is more of a physical comedy. Rather than standing stationary and delivering the lines, there is a great deal of unscripted movement that can amuse the audience while adding to the meaning of the spoken words. Examine the first interacting between Petruchio and Katherina….”
He turned the pages of his own book as Elizabeth did the same, and then he stood and began making a ludicrous demonstration.
“Imagine that as she is bantering with him, he is trying to take her in his arms, but she deftly dodges him. He comments on her light figure – she shifts that he cannot catch her – perhaps he approaches again, she scolds him. Further down the page, she strikes him. Perhaps when she says he may lose his arms, she might come behind him and twist his arm back like so…..”
Elizabeth watched with open amusement as he attempted to playact the rapid, fluid, comedically exaggerated movements that he imagined might accompany the bandying of words.
When he was finished, she clapped her hands and beamed at him.
“I like it! The physicality works, for Petruchio is a brute – at least in this scene, he is not cruel.”
“I shall play him a blundering oaf, for I cannot lend any wit to a fellow who would starve his wife into obedience.”
Elizabeth quirked an eyebrow at him. “I am happy I shall never suffer Katherina’s fate; no man shall ever desire me only for a dowry, and suppose I suppose I shall remain at liberty to be as sharp-to goes as I choose.”
“Only a fool would seek the hand of a woman whose disposition did not beguile him as much as her beauty. Katherina was quite perfect with a barbed tongue, I think.”
Elizabeth gratified his warm words with a pretty blush that spread across her face and chest. “Let us hope she is not clumsy! Shall we practice the movements?”
For the next three hours, the guests were all left to their own devices, and Darcy could not have been happier.
Elizabeth was quite willing to entertain all of his ideas, and despite a few moments of embarrassment, she comprehended his vision for their scene perfectly.
His instinct had been to rebel at being made to perform, but he could hardly complain when it afforded him the chance to pass so much time in playful harmony with her – and the chances to touch her afforded by their comedic physical display were utterly sublime.
When Elizabeth was satisfied that they would not disgrace themselves, she clapped her hands briskly and then rested them on her hips.
“Well, sir, all that remains to be seen is if I can perform the steps of our intricate dance in my Tudor costume. I must thank you, truly, for making a play I dislike so enjoyable. I am impressed by your ingenuity.”
Darcy found himself grinning stupidly at her.
With any other partner, he might have thought only of his own discomfort at making such an exhibition, but for the past three hours he had thought only of Elizabeth’s comfort and enjoyment.
Indeed, it had been many months now that he had thought of little else but her.
But finally, she noticed. Elizabeth peered up at him with bright eyes.
Her fingers twitched as her hand slowly extended toward him, but then she stopped herself.
Darcy stepped toward her. “I suppose there is a lesson in it; one might find meaning even in what is distasteful. It need not be a painful experience.”
She arched an eyebrow, the wistful look on her eye replaced by irrepressible mirth. “I suppose that is easy for you to say, sir. Your costume does not involve whalebone.”
“I suppose the Gouldings would have you flogged if you performed in your ordinary clothing.” Darcy frowned. He had entirely appreciated the sight of her as Queen Elizabeth – her daring neckline draped in jewels had filled his dreams the night before. But she was always exquisite.
“I daresay the Gouldings will have us both flogged if Petruchio does not steal a kiss.” Elizabeth’s eyes flared wide, as if she had not meant to speak those words aloud.
Darcy appeared to thoughtfully consider this, his gesture comically exaggerated to ease her awkwardness with a laugh. “If Petruchio meant to do any such thing, he should certainly never give Katherina warning first.” But he already knew just how he would do it.