Chapter 23

“A h, dear me, but who shall rescue me?” cried the fair princess as she swept into a dramatic swoon. The audience clamored, shouting encouragement as the handsome prince stepped into the scene, despite the actor looking like a doting grandfather rather than a strapping young man. But then, the princess had more than a few decades to her credit as well.

A cackle, worthy of being called villainous, sounded from the far side of the stage, and Ophelia swept into view with a flourish of her cape that gave the illusion of her having appeared from nowhere.

“You are too late, my foolish prince. She is under my spell!”

The audience booed and hissed with all their might.

But Angelica forced her attention back to her paper, which rested upon the writing slate she’d borrowed from her students. With a flick of her pencil, she ticked off another task before examining the last few on her list, and lifting a hand to her head, she wiped at the moisture gathering there.

The massive stone barn was perfect for a wintertime gathering, and having been built on a slight slope, this far end of the room was already raised up on two steps, dividing the open space and serving as the perfect stage. Curtains were strung from the beams that soared above them, sectioning off the actors from the audience and providing shelter on either side for the stagehands.

Turning to the children beside her, Angelica straightened the costumes, righting ears that had gone askew and reattaching drooping tails. The evil fairy delivered her line with all the gravitas of Lady Macbeth, and Angelica ushered the woodland creatures forward; they swarmed the stage, managing to follow the directions they’d been given. Mostly. Alegría pirouetted in the middle of the stage, despite Ophelia’s attempts to corral the fieldmouse.

Angelica couldn’t help laughing at it, for it only added to the ridiculousness that defined a pantomime, especially when the dancing fairy-mouse kept stealing attention from the villain.

“It is chaos out there,” murmured Thomas.

Jerking around, she spied her brother looming in the wing beside her, but before she could think what to say to the intrusion, Papa swept from the stage, tossing aside his sword whilst Angelica handed him a new one that was painted with a bloody edge. With quick movements, she flipped his tunic around, which displayed the red splashed side, and he strode out into view a mere heartbeat after he left it.

And on the other side, she spied Emily finishing off Ophelia’s preparations before the girl swept back into view, looking as though she had just done battle with the prince and the princess’s woodland friends—whilst the fairy-mouse jetéd across the stage.

“This is marvelous,” whispered Thomas.

“I admit I am very pleased with it,” she replied, glancing at her list. But there was little more to be done, as the actors were delivering the final moments. Only the curtains needed attending.

“As well you should be. You seem to be the driving force behind this success.”

Angelica’s brows rose at that, and she glanced at her brother. “Emily wrote the panto, and Guinevere managed the decorations—”

Huffing, Thomas shook his head. “I watched the rehearsals, Angelica. The rest of the family offered their talents, but until you swept in to organize their efforts, it was naught but a jumbled mess. You kept them on task.”

She clutched her slate to her chest. The paper crinkled, but Angelica ignored it as she tried to think how to respond.

“I do not recall things being quite so…” Thomas trailed off, his brow furrowing as he tried to choose the proper word, “shambolic at home.”

Angelica gave him a faint smile. “Yes, but a boy of nine doesn’t notice such things, and there were only four of us children at the time. We have more than doubled since then.”

Thomas glanced at the action on stage as Ophelia stretched her death scene into a grand performance worthy of a tragedy. “I always thought being raised on a ship meant my childhood was frenzied, but as rowdy as those sailors could be, there was order to our lives. I do not know how you managed to navigate the Callaghan home. I think it would’ve driven me mad to have everything constantly whirling out of control.”

“I never thought to hear another Callaghan say such a thing,” replied Angelica.

“If you allowed me to know you better, then we might just discover that we share other commonalities,” said Thomas with a teasing lift of his brow.

And though impulse had her reaching for her anger, Angelica clung to the conversation she’d had with Mr. Knight. Not only had that gentleman proven she was far too apt to leap to the worst conclusions, but what sort of hypocrite would she be if she turned aside a family connection that she had claimed was such a blessing not a sennight ago?

“If you can go for more than an hour without irritating me, perhaps we will,” she replied with a lift of her chin. Her heart stopped at that impertinence, realizing only once spoken how harsh that statement sounded when she’d intended it to be teasing.

Thomas blinked at her, and before she could think how to fix her misstep, he broke into a grin. “And here I thought you’d lost your wit.”

“Best keep that to yourself, sir. I wouldn’t want anyone to discover I am capable of humor.”

Applause thundered as the audience whistled and cheered at the evil fairy’s death. Angelica turned her attention to the work at hand, giving the sign for the curtain to close, and Carl set to working the ropes, lowering it with ease. Though they didn’t usually bother with a proper pulley system, Mr. Knight’s plan required something more intricate than they’d used in the past, and with Thomas on hand to lend his expertise with rigging, it had been simple enough to accomplish.

The actors all rose to their feet and spilled onto the stage from the wings before Carl raised the curtain again, and they took their bows, looking to all the world as though they’d just concluded some grand display of theatrical genius. Papa and Mama blew kisses at the adoring crowd, and Angelica cringed at the exaggerated show of gratitude.

Turning to the next work to be done, Angelica set her sights on the baskets stacked around her. Flipping over her sheet, she read through the list of costumes and props, which was divided according to whether or not they required washing before they could be packed away. But movement at her back had her glancing over to see Thomas step onto the stage. Weaving through the players, he arrived at their father’s side and whispered into his ear.

“And can we have another round of applause for our wonderful stagehands?” With a sweeping hand, Papa motioned for those hiding out of sight, but Angelica clutched her list and slate and remained where she stood. Thomas gave her a narrowed look and returned to her side, placing an arm around her shoulders and forcing her from her hiding place.

“Though we are the ones who garner most of the attention, it goes without saying that our performance today would be nothing without the tireless efforts of our daughter,” said Papa as he and his son pushed her into center stage. Angelica’s cheeks pinked, and she could barely look at the audience as they applauded, but her heart lightened at the resounding approval that flowed from them. And then the curtain fell once more before she escaped back to the wings.

Though it would be some time before the rest of the New Year’s Eve festivities commenced, the audience was in no hurry to vacate the barn, and their voices rose as conversations sprouted up all around.

“I hope that did not embarrass you too much, but your efforts needed to be acknowledged,” said Thomas as he picked up a tail that had been discarded by one of the woodland creatures.

The moment had been utterly embarrassing and wonderful all at the same time, but Angelica couldn’t think how to describe it, so she settled for, “Thank you for thinking of me, Thomas—”

But before either could say anything more, Mr. Knight peeked around the edge of the curtain and called to her. Angelica glanced at her brother as she fought a blush, but Thomas simply took hold of the fabric and held it back as she ducked around it to join the gentleman.

“What a fine show, Miss Callaghan,” said Mr. Knight with a beaming grin. Nodding behind him to his mother and father, he added, “I am glad I convinced my parents to attend, for we thoroughly enjoyed it. However, I found myself distracted by what might be happening behind the curtains. It seems as though there were no significant issues.”

“No, thank the heavens. And your suggestions for the interludes seem to have gone over well,” said Angelica, her expression matching his. Glancing behind him, she greeted the gentleman’s parents. “Good afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. Knight. So good of you to join us.”

“It was quite entertaining,” replied Mrs. Knight with what might be classified as a friendly expression if one ignored the stiffness in her movements.

“Yes, very,” added her husband in an equally aloof manner.

Angelica fought to keep her confusion from showing as she glanced between the pair. “Have you had the opportunity to visit any of the sights I recommended?”

“We’ve been quite busy,” was the lady’s curt reply.

Heart sinking, Angelica wondered what she’d done to earn such a cool reception. It wasn’t as though they were dear friends, but their time together at the party had endeared them to her. Had something soured their opinion of her?

The curtain shivered as the players and stagehands moved about their clean-up, drawing Angelica’s attention. Most were doing their best, but it was clear from even that little glimpse that none of it was being gathered in an orderly fashion.

“Yes, our visit has been lovely but taxing,” added the elder Mr. Knight.

Angelica nodded and forced herself to calm. They were exhausted. That was all. People behaved in all sorts of odd manners when fatigued. But another peek behind the curtain had Angelica’s heart clenching at the frenzied work going on there.

“Do excuse me, but I’m needed on stage,” she said with a quick bob. Pausing, Angelica added, “But despite your fatigue, I do hope you will join us for the rest of the festivities. The village throws quite a lively party.”

“So we have heard,” said Mrs. Knight. “But unfortunately, we have plans in Fellburn tonight.”

“Yes, of course,” she replied, turning away—and stopping at a hand on her arm.

“Do you require assistance?” asked their son with that bright and open expression that seemed so often fixed on his face. But Angelica glanced over at his parents and shook her head.

“That is kind of you, but we have it well in hand.” And with that, she scurried away and ducked through the curtains.