The Substitute Countess

Laurel dared. “He is your son, too, you know.”

Mrs. Ives smiled and turned down the bed covers. “So he is and I do so wish him happy, above anything. You as well, child.”

“You have missed him, haven’t you, all these years he’s been away? Please say you’ll come and visit us often once we’re settled. You and Mr. Ives will be most welcome at any time.”

“What a dear little thing you are and so thoughtful. Jack’s chosen well, I think.”

Laurel certainly hoped so. Thus far, they got along well. And she admitted there had been a mighty attraction on her part right from the beginning.

The next morning Laurel donned her gray gown again in preparation for their journey to London. Jack’s mother had other ideas. As they drank their tea in the shop, she pleaded with Jack to stay one more day.

He hesitated and Laurel knew why. It was high time they consummated their marriage and could hardly do so in the confines of his mother’s living quarters. Laurel smiled at him and gave a small shrug to say she didn’t mind if he wanted to visit longer.

“I hate to impose longer,” he said, but finally acquiesced when Mrs. Ives insisted they stay. “Very well, one more day,” he agreed. “But then we really must go on.”

His mother beamed. “All right, but as penance for rushing your visit, you must come with me this evening. It will be the perfect practice for you, Laurel, before you get to London!” she exclaimed. “And I confess, I would enjoy showing off my new daughter.”

Laurel could tell that he didn’t want to disappoint his mother in any way, perhaps because he had spent so much time away from her. “Where are we going that’s so important?”

“To the Theatre Royal! I had planned to go one evening this week anyway. The Olander Company is doing Hamlet and our own Rose Madson is to play Ophelia! Tonight is opening night and the entire town should turn out.”

“Who is Rose Madson?” Jack asked.

“My good friend Emma Madson’s daughter, of course.” She flapped a hand. “You wouldn’t remember her, I suppose. I think she was born about the time you went to sea with your father. She was such a lovely girl. Her parents were so upset when she ran off to London to become an actress, but you can imagine how proud they are now she’s performing in her own town!”

Laurel couldn’t imagine it at all. It must be a parent’s worst nightmare. She had heard about actresses. Perhaps her information was a bit skewed, however, considering where she had gotten it. Her curiosity was piqued. “I do love Shakespeare,” she said, hoping Jack would allow them to go. “I’ve never seen a play before, but I’ve read Hamlet so many times.”

He looked speculatively at her as she waited for his answer. “I suppose we could. It might be better for you to begin with an outing more modest than some London event.” He nodded. “We shall go then.”

Mrs. Ives clapped her hands. “Wonderful! You will love the theatre, Laurel. It opened five years ago and I’ve only been the once. The building itself is so grand, I’ll wager it’s as posh as anything London has to offer.”

“I look forward to it.” She truly did, but wondered what it would be like with crowds of people and all the noise. Plymouth was the largest town she had ever visited and the passengers and crew of the ship, the most numerous crowd she had yet encountered.

While Jack went out to arrange their transportation to London for the following day and purchase tickets for the play, Laurel spent the hours helping his mother in the chemist shop.

Mrs. Ives proved good company, bragging on Laurel each time a customer came in. She assigned her small tasks anyone could do and then praised her efforts as if Laurel were the most amazing apprentice ever. They kept busy until the hour arrived to get ready for the evening.

Laurel donned her white frock and added the ribbons to her hair. Mrs. Ives was busy digging inside a trunk beside the wall. “Ah! Here it is!” She stood and approached Laurel. “Wear this,” she said, draping a soft, blue-and-white paisley shawl around Laurel’s shoulders. “Jack’s father brought it to me as a gift once when he’d been away for nearly a year. If you like it, I want you to have it.”

The soft, finely woven wool felt as supple as silk. “I’ve never felt such a wonder!” Laurel said, breathless, as she smoothed the delicate folds over her shoulder. “I’ll treasure it always.” She gave Mrs. Ives an impulsive hug. “Thank you so very much.”

“It’s only a shawl!” Mrs. Ives said, laughing and patting Laurel’s back. She stood back, looked at her and tweaked one of the ribbons in her hair. “My girl needs pretty things.”

It wasn’t the lovely gift that warmed Laurel’s heart, but the sentiment behind it. Jack’s mother liked her, called her daughter and seemed so happy to have her in the family. The shawl represented a long-held dream coming true.

“The carriage is here, ladies!” Jack called up the stairs.

“Ooh, a carriage, he says!” his mother exclaimed, her eyebrows raised in mock surprise. “Mr. Fancypants is taking us out in style!”

“Lord Fancypants,” Laurel whispered, and they laughed together like girls.

The theatre was every bit as grand as Mrs. Ives had declared, Laurel thought when they arrived. Huge columns at least thirty feet tall graced the entrance. “My word, it’s so large!”

“It’s also a hotel and has assembly rooms,” Jack told her. “The theatre’s only a part of it, but that alone can accommodate over a thousand people at once.”

“I hope they all are not here tonight,” she muttered.

He helped her and his mother out of the carriage. “I tried to get a box, but they were all taken, so we’ll have to be in the general audience.”

Laurel was nearly overcome with excitement as they threaded their way through the throngs gathered in the enormous atrium and found seats. Though the air outside had rather a chill to it, inside the theatre it proved almost stifling due to the crowded conditions.

Above them were the balconied boxes with beautifully dressed ladies and gentlemen looking down. Most held quizzing glasses, or she supposed that’s what they were. She had read of those and wondered how the distant stage would look when seen through them. She took her seat on the bench between Jack and his mother and tried to settle down for the performance.

There were two acts preceding it, a soprano who sang a tragic love song and then a trio of rather inexpert acrobats who drew loud derision from the crowds. At last the curtains closed and it grew relatively quiet as the play was announced.

Laurel grew more fascinated by the moment as the play she had read so many times came to life on the stage. The girl who played Ophelia seemed truly mad, lovely as she was, and drew tears well before her character’s death. Even Jack seemed entranced to the point of unusual stillness.

When it was over and the applause died down, Laurel released a heavy sigh. She wished their outing could go on and on. Jack ushered them out and hailed their carriage which he had arranged to come back for them after the performance.

“So, what do you think of theatre?” he asked as they waited.

Laurel grasped his mother’s hand. “Thank you for this, ma’am. It was the most glorious thing I have ever seen!”

Jack laughed. “That’s not as great a compliment as it might be if You hadn’t lived all your life behind the walls of a convent!”

“Still, it was wonderful,” she declared with a firm nod, “and you mustn’t make light of it. We should be regular theatre-goers in London.”

He winked at his mother. “You see how she stands me around, Mum? And you worried that the big city might intimidate her? Scoff at the thought. She’ll take it by storm, wait and see!”

The ride back to the chemist shop proved jolly, followed by an excellent supper of purchased meat pies and very good wine. Laurel hoped this night was a portent of happy times to come.

“This truly is the best night of my life, by far,” she said to his mother after they retired. She hugged the beautiful blue-and-white shawl once more before folding it away.

The night would have been absolutely perfect if she were retiring to bed with her husband, but Laurel knew that delay only left her something else wondrous to anticipate.

“Jack seemed to enjoy it, too,” Mrs. Ives said as she tucked her hair into her frilly nightcap. She was obviously pleased that she had suggested just the right entertainment. “I thought he might excuse himself and wander around impatiently until it was over. He had trouble sitting still for very long, even as a lad. Never left us once tonight, though, did he!”

“No, ma’am, not once. I don’t even think he thought about it.”

Mrs. Ives had put her finger on the one thing that had begun to trouble Laurel about Jack, however. He proved a most active man, not fidgety, but highly strung as if constantly poised to tackle anything that wanted doing. And if there was nothing apparent pending, he seemed to conjure something out of thin air. When he was quiet and still, it seemed somehow forced and she could sense his tension.

His very nature apparently required perpetual vigilance and a quick response to whatever happened around him, and yet, he seldom seemed exhausted. “I envy his enduring vigor. He’s so capable. And quite the hero, too, your lad,” Laurel said with a smile as she climbed into bed. “Everyone aboard the ship coming here greatly admired him and so do I.”

“Admiration is well and good, but I hope you will love my son, Laurel.” That was the last thing the mother said after the lamp was blown out and they were settled for the night.

Love. Obviously Jack had grown up with that, even though he must have been away for long stretches of time since he had gone to sea with his father. The closeness with his mother had remained constant.

Could she learn to love him?