Page 33 of A Lady Igniting Wicked Passions
It was almost a physical caress, soft, feathers stroking the back of his neck and down his spine. The gentle stroll around the garden was a battle for Aaron, a war fought to contain his desire and present nothing but a platonic face to the woman he was escorting.
As they completed their circuit and walked along the perimeter of the lawn, he realized that a man in antique costume was strolling from the house and stepping onto a small stage that had been placed on the lawn.
He was dressed in the doublet and hose of the seventeenth century and, after assuming a suitably dramatic pose, he began to recite in a dramatic voice. Aaron stopped, as did Arabella.
“From fairest creatures we desire increase. That thereby beauty’s rose might never die…”
“That is the first Sonnet,” Arabella observed as the actor continued.
“It is. I had no idea Sussex had such a sense of humour,” Aaron replied.
Both smiled and then held in laughter as other couples joined them in appreciation of the recital. As the man finished, they stood in their gaudy finery and applauded.
“Do you think they have any idea that their host is making fun of them?” Arabella asked in a whisper.
“Looking at their faces, I should say not,” Aaron replied.
Shakespeare’s first sonnet was a satire, decrying the shallowness and selfishness of those who make true beauty a shallow thing through their own pre-occupation with their own image.
“Helena should be hearing this,” Arabella said.
“You do not think much of her, do you?” Aaron asked.
“Can you blame me?”
“No. She strikes me as venal and proud. Has she always been so?”
“Yes. And mother has encouraged it. For as long as I can remember, I have wanted to follow my father. Helena, more properly to mother’s mind, followed her. Therefore, Helena learned needlepoint and the piano forte. She sings and knows the arts of cosmetics and clothing. I know horses and…”
“Shakespeare,” Aaron finished for her.
“I love Shakespeare. My grandfather could recite Hamlet verbatim. He would enact plays with me on the lawn at Eversden. Father would always play the antagonist. He was very proud of his Claudius to my Hamlet when I was fifteen. And you?”
“A distraction from the war. Some men saw it as a great adventure. They did not last long. I…I was terrified for every moment. It was the Bard that got me through.Once more unto the breach dear friends, once more. Or close up the wall with our English dead.”
He remembered the smoke and bitter smell of gunpowder. The screaming of horses and men and the dreadful chant of the soldiers in the infamous French column. Worse was the terror in the faces of those same French, once their formation was broken and the cavalry charged in to mow them down.
“You did not like soldiering? So why do it, many did not,” Arabella asked.
As they spoke, she had been drawing closer to Aaron. Now both her hands encircled his arm and she was looking up at him from a much closer distance. Aaron’s awareness of those around them was fading. The voice of the actor, speaking another of Shakespeare’s sonnets was the only sound besides Arabella’s voice that he was aware of.
“It was my duty. I am a duke of England. Above me, and the dukes of this country, there is only the King. If we do not lead England against her enemies, who will? How can we expect the farmers to put down their tools and face tyrants like Bonaparte if their leaders will not do the same,” Aaron said, passion in his voice.
“It seems a monstrous profession to me,” Arabella said.
“It is that. It takes a special kind of madman to be able to hack another man down from horseback. A man who has no defence but who must be cut down if the battle is to be won. It sickened me,” Aaron replied.
He felt her hands squeeze his own and he almost took up one of her hands to kiss it. Almost, but at the last moment he remembered himself.
“Then why do you wear the uniform?”
Aaron smiled mirthlessly. “Because I have earned the right. This is my symbol of the service I have done my country. I wear it in the full knowledge that those for whom it has always been so much window dressing are shamed. As are those who stand as my equals but were not equal to the sacrifice that I made,” he paused. “Does that sound needlessly dramatic and pompous?”
Arabella laughed. It was a delighted and musical sound that made Aaron smile genuinely.
“It does. But I do understand. I think. It makes you a man of honour among a company of posturing fools.”
“How poetic. Lady Arabella, you do surprise me. I believed you to be nothing but horses and sport,” Lady Isabella said.
