“You’re the director, then?”
“I am indeed,” Sir Peregrine said, unaware ofthe just-perceptible smile that creased the corners of Lady Mad’spretty mouth.
“And we in the troupe refer to our directoraffectionately as Sir P.,” Lady Mad said in a low, husky voice thatsent a tingle through Cobb’s nether region.
Sir P. leaned over Cobb’s shoulder andpointed out the place where Bottom was to begin – affording Cobb awhiff of some pungent, exotic perfume. “Take a few minutes and scanit, if you like.”
“No need, sir. I got it conned by heart.”
Lady Mad smiled, regally this time, adding anunexpected warmth to her icy allure. She gave her husband a briefbut telling glance. Some byplay was going on between those two,Cobb thought, and he seemed to be part of it.
“Then, by all means go ahead. When we get onstage, as Puck, I’ll pantomime the placing of the ass’s head onBottom and lead him to the sleeping Titania, who, as you know, hasbeen given a charm whereby she will fall in love with the firstperson she sees upon wakening – a masterstroke, don’t you think, ofthe Bard’s genius for comedy?”
“Let the man begin, Perry.”
As Cobb looked down to remind himself of hisfirst line and note Titania’s cues, he felt Lady Mad’s gaze fastenupon his person and caress it slowly up and down. He stumbledslightly on the opening phrase, but having amused his children withthis role more than once, especially after the visit to his dyingfather last winter, he quickly recovered.
Bottom: The woosel cock so black ofhue
With orange-tawny bill
The throstle with his note so true
The wren with little quill -
“Well done! Well done!” Sir P. enthused. “We’ll haveyou put that verse to a little tune of sorts. As Puck I may eventootle an accompaniment on my recorder.”
“Let the man recite, for God’s sake,”Lady Mad snapped. Sir P.’s jaw dropped, but before he could say aword, Lady Mad said sweetly to Cobb, “Just read your last line, asyou did, in that gravelly voice with those amazing vowels.”
Cobb blushed, turning his purple nosescarlet. He did as he was bid.
Lady Mad came in on cue, closing herlong-lashed eyes, then raising her head, with its burst ofstrawberry hair, and dreamily fluttering her fairy-queen eyelids.“What angel wakes me from my flowering bed?” Titania breathed.
If he was to get the part and help Marcdefend Brodie, Cobb decided he had better pretend to read thescript and thus keep his eyes where they would do the least harm.With his gaze fixed on the page, then, and hers upon her beastlylover, they moved through the scene – in which Titania professesher love and Bottom is both bedazzled and dazed. They wereinterrupted only once by the director, who informed Cobb that hisnieces and nephew would be playing the attendant fairies and thatSmallman’s had been commissioned to render the costumesthereof.
While Cobb was able to keep his eyesfrom wandering where they wished to, he was unable to stophimself from picturing the actions that might be appended toTitania’s amorous declarations. Lady Mad certainly recited thesewith a passion hardly suited to a gentleman’s dining-room. Was suchtransparent ardour aimed at him or at her husband?
“Thank you, Cobb,” Sir P. said and, glancingat Lady Mad, who nodded, he added, “You’ll do nicely.”
“Ya mean I got the part?”
“You have indeed. And thank you, my lady, foryour selfless participation. I’m sure you’ll excuse Cobb while wego over some of the mundane details of our schedule andprotocol.”
“Of course. I am looking forward, Mr. Cobb,to a fruitful collaboration.” With that, Lady Mad made her exit.Cobb noticed that she was just as handsome going away as she wascoming at you.
Chivers appeared magically from somewherewith cigars and port. Cobb refused the cigar but welcomed the port,as he listened to Sir P. review the plans for the ensuingfortnight. Rehearsals would be held here on Tuesdays, Thursdays andSaturdays at seven-thirty in the evening. After a full read-throughon Tuesday next, the director hoped to get the cast on stage -still “on-book” – for elementary blocking. Costumes would besupplied from the Shuttleworth steamer-trunk or manufactured bySmallman’s. Individual scenes would be rehearsed on stage,while the actors not involved would be free to take refreshment inthe dining-room, smoke and chat in the adjacent den, or read in thelibrary just down the inner hall that led to the Shuttleworth’sprivate quarters.
“Now, Cobb, it occurred to me that you mightfind such extended down-time – well – boring.”
“I could read the newspapers,” Cobbsuggested.
“True, true. But I was wondering whether youcould . . .ah . . . paint.”
Cobb blinked. “Ya mean pictures?”
“Not quite. I was thinking of walls.”
“Oh. I see.”
“Mullins, our handyman, has built us asplendid stage, as you can see, and tacked together five canvasflats, which will display scenes that will provide our guests withthe most wonderful illusion of Shakespeare’s fairyland. Thesebucolic motifs – trees, stars, moonlight – have been elegantlysketched out on the canvas by my talented lady. But, alas, Mullinsis ham-fisted with a paintbrush and Madeleine is awater-colourist.”
“You’d like me to paint the scenery – when Iain’t actin’?”
“Only if you’d be bored otherwise, and onlyif you felt comfortable doing so.”
Cobb quickly concluded that the baronet wasreally concerned that a mere police constable might discomfit theregular ladies and gentlemen of the cast with his ordinary mannersand amazing vowels. While he should have been insulted – and was -he also realized that by painting the flats, which he had seenstacked up against the west wall near the curtained-off wing andthe door to the den, he could unobtrusively eavesdrop onconversations, and perhaps even move about with the “invisibility”of the servant class. “I’ve painted a porch or two in my time,” hesaid. “I’d be glad to help ya out.”
They shook hands in the vestibule. Sir P. hadinsisted that his brougham be brought around and put at Cobb’sservice. When the carriage and its liveried driver pulled up infront of the Cobb cottage fifteen minutes later, three faces werepressed up against the big window.
Cobb grinned, and waved the carriage away asif he were Puck with a fairy-wand in his hand.
***
The first rehearsal on Tuesday evening next producedno evidence that Cobb could take to Marc, who had instructed him toreport to Briar Cottage only when he felt it necessary. (ChiefSturges had wondered vaguely about Wilkie and Cobb exchangingshifts, but when Cobb explained that Wilkie owed him a month’sworth of night-shifts, Sturges had made no further inquiries aboutwhat Cobb might be up to in his spare time). The entire cast sataround the long-table in the theatre and did a directedread-through, and Cobb was able to observe the subtle interplayamong its members. During his other investigations with Marc, Cobbhad become adept at interpreting body language and facialexpressions, and there were plenty of both on display here.
The first thing he noticed, to his relief,was that he himself was not out of place as an actor. The rehearsalitself was bumpy and inconsistent – to put the best light on it,which the director endeavoured to do. As Lysander, Dutton readwoodenly, as if he were reciting an affidavit, but he mightpossibly loosen up as time went on. At least with his slim buildand handsome features, he could, with a wig or a decent dye-job, bemade to resemble a love-struck, newly bearded youth. As Oberon thefairy-king, Fullarton had a voice deep and commanding enough togive credence to the role, but on this occasion he flubbed a numberof lines, made matters worse by apologizing to Sir P. and, itappeared, to Lady Mad as well.