Cursed in the Act (26 page)

“Ah yes. Well, happily, the Lyceum audience is hardier and more loyal than that,” I said.

My boss gave another of his long sighs. “Take the opportunity to get some rest, Harry. It won't be long now before we are deep into rehearsing for
Othello
and working our perhaps dubious charm on the two Americans, Mr. Edwin Booth and the redoubtable Colonel Wilberforce Cornell.”

“I really look forward to that!” I muttered.

* * *

I
t seemed that the trial of Mr. Ralph Bateman would not take place in the immediate future. Sir Mortimer Dugdale was a very formidable lawyer, yet our Sergeant Bellamy could be equally tenacious. He was determined to see justice done, yet the Queen's Counsel definitely had the upper hand. We all needed to be patient. I was far more concerned over the fate of Mr. Ogoon. Had he indeed fled the British Isles? Was he truly en route to his native Haiti? Mr. Stoker assured me that he believed that to be the case, and I tried to accept it, yet I still had nightmares in which I was the principle participant in a Voudon ritual!

It was in the morning, two days later, that my boss suggested I go home and change into my best clothes. He was mysterious about why I should do this, but I dutifully complied and returned to the theatre. There he further suggested that I instruct Sam Green to take over my stage manager duties for the afternoon matinee. This I also did. Then Mr. Stoker broke the news that Mr. Irving had agreed to invite his household staff to a theatre performance at the Lyceum. I was thrilled.

Mr. and Mrs. Cooke, young Timmy, Jenny, Susan, and Betsy arrived in a four-wheeler, all dressed in their Sunday best. Jenny, to my eyes, stood out from both of the other maids. Mr. Stoker was already familiar with everyone, since he was a frequent visitor to Mr. Irving's residence, but I made a point of introducing Jenny to him.

“Mr. Stoker, permit me to present to you Miss Jenny Cartwright.”

“Delighted, Miss Cartwright,” said my boss. “I understand that we are beholden to you in the matter of certain correspondence.”

Jenny looked at me, her eyes wide.

“The letters,” I muttered.

“Oh yes. Yes, sir. Of course. It was my pleasure, sir,” she said, bobbing a curtsey.

“Nonetheless, our thanks. And if I may be so bold, I believe young Harry here to be extremely fortunate to have made the acquaintance of a young lady such as yourself.”

Jenny's face turned red and she looked down at her feet. For myself, I was brimming over with happiness. I offered my arm, which Jenny quickly took, and we all moved off into the theatre.

Shortly thereafter we were all seated in the Royal Box, on the gilt chairs with velvet upholstery on seat and back. I was at one end. Beside me, her eyes wide as she looked all about her, sat Jenny. We awaited the start of
Hamlet
. Mr. and Mrs. Henry Cooke sat in the center of the box with the other two maids and young Timmy on their far side. I looked over the front of the box, down at the pit and the stalls below me and then up at the tiers rising above. It was another full house. The Lyceum was back to normal.

As the house lights dimmed and the curtain rose on the scene “A Platform before Elsinore Castle,” Jenny leaned across and kissed me on the cheek. I was very happy.