Page 24 of Who Wants to Marry a Duke
Greycourt chuckled. “Doesn’t that sound like riveting reading, Thorn? It should keep you far more entertained than your usual diet of Shakespeare, Fletcher, and the oldest playwrights you can find.”
Thorn’s only answer was to shoot his brother a foul glance.
“Thorn’s favorite pastime,” Greycourt explained, “is either attending the theater or reading plays. You should see his collection of dramatic literature. It’s quite extensive.”
“I do read journal articles sometimes,” Thorn said sullenly.
“About chemistry?” Beatrice asked.
NowBeatricewas the recipient of a foul glance, which only made the duchess grin.
“Actually, I quite like the theater myself,” Olivia said, though she wasn’t sure why she felt the need to defend Thorn, of all people. “I attend with Papa and Mama as often as I can. I don’t read many plays—they only come alive for me when I see them acted. But once I do, I can then go back and read the play with enjoyment.”
Thorn sat up. “Most people don’t understand that you have toseea play to get the full effect.”
“Exactly!” Olivia said, pleased to find someone else who understood that. “The first Shakespeare play I read wasMuch Ado about Nothing, and I missed at least half of the funny bits. I didn’t understand why Shakespeare was considered such a great writer. Then I saw it performed—”
“The one at the Theatre Royal in Covent Garden with Charles Kemble as Benedick?” Thorn asked, his eyes alight.
“Yes!” Olivia said. “It was spectacular. He’s every bit as good as his more famous brothers.”
“His wife was great in the role of Beatrice, too,” Greycourt put in. When Olivia and Thorn gaped at him, he added, “I go to the theater from time to time. What do you think I am—a know-nothing?”
Thorn arched one brow. “I can count on one hand the number of times you’ve gone with me to the theater. And even then, I had to drag you there.”
“I don’t like all the shouting,” Greycourt said defensively. “If the audience would behave themselves, I would enjoy myself better.”
“Oh, I quite agree with you there,” Olivia chimed in. “I don’t like the shouting and throwing of oranges and the like, either. But Mama tells me it’s far better now than in her time. She said that back then, whenever Malvolio used to take the stage, the jeering and catcalls grew so loud that no one could even hear his lines.”
“Ah, yes,Twelfth Night, another of my favorites.” Thorn cocked his head. “Were you perhaps named after—”
“No!” she and Beatrice said in unison. Then they laughed together.
“I already asked her that,” Beatrice said.
“Everyoneasks me that,” Olivia added. “Everyone who likes Shakespeare, anyway.”
“Oh, I understand, believe me,” Beatrice said. “The irony of everyone assuming I was named after the character inMuch Ado about Nothingis that I’ve never even seen or read the play.”
“You’d like it, I assure you,” Olivia said. “And Beatrice is a wonderful, sharp-tongued heroine.”
“That does fit our Beatrice, to be sure,” Thorn said. When Beatrice swatted him with her reticule, he laughed, then returned to questioning Olivia. “So I take it you prefer Shakespeare’s comedies to his tragedies?”
“I prefer anything that makes me laugh. As your brother so deftly demonstrated, chemistry can be a very dry subject. I love it . . . but sometimes I also need something to take me out of it for a time. Lately, my favorite playwright is a fellow named Konrad Juncker. I think he’s German, although the name could be Danish or Swedish.”
She met Thorn’s gaze, surprised to see that his smile had abruptly faded. “Anyway,” she went on, “his stories about a foreigner named Felix living the life of a rakish buck in London always make me laugh myself silly. Have you seen them?”
“I doubt it,” Thorn said. “Although recently I went to a wonderful new play at Covent Garden that—”
“You did see at least one of the Juncker plays,” Greycourt broke in. “I remember because you were the one who dragged me to it.” He mused aloud. “It wasn’tThe Adventures of a Foreign Gentleman Loose in London—that one I’ve never seen—but a later one. PerhapsMore Adventures of a Foreign Gentleman Loose in London?”
With a long-suffering look, Thorn crossed his arms over his chest. “Whatever it was, it must not have made much of an impression on me. I don’t recall it.”
Olivia turned her attention to Greycourt. “Might it have beenThe Wildest Adventures, et cetera, et cetera? That one packed the theater. I would never have been able to see it if Papa hadn’t had a box.”
Greycourt tapped his chin. “That might have been it. Was that the one with Lady Grasping and Lady Slyboots?”
“Actually,” Olivia said, “they’ve been in all the plays so far. I know, because the pair are my favorite comedic characters bar none.”
