Miss Darby's Duenna Read Free Page B

with hired rooms more suited to his bachelor status.   Upon Mrs. Darby’s acceptance of this generous offer, he announced his intention of departing for London within the week to ensure that all was in readiness for their arrival. Mrs. Darby was moved to exclaim at the thoughtfulness of her future son, but Olivia, aware of Sir Harry’s fondness for town life, quite correctly ascribed this fit of generosity to more self-serving motives.
    Mother and daughter arrived in London in mid-March, along with Sir Harry’s sister Georgina, who whiled away the journey by outlining for her companions the various perils of the fashionable life which, according to Mr. Collier, lurked in the Metropolis, ready to devour the unwary. Indeed, any disinterested listener might have supposed their southeasterly course to lead directly to Hell, rather than London. At last they entered the city, its cobbled streets alive with the cries of vendors hawking their wares and the squeals of grubby, unwashed children at play. Upon seeing these unfortunates, Georgina was moved to denounce the beau monde for frittering away fortunes on gaming and fashion in the face of such squalor. These noble sentiments, while they would no doubt have found favor with the good reverend, were quite wasted on her intended audience, for the Darbys, both mother and daughter, had long since fallen asleep.
    The slumberers at last awoke as the carriage rolled to a stop before the Curzon Street town house, and the ladies exited the vehicle somewhat stiffly. Sir Harry’s butler flung open the front door as they mounted the stairs, and the travel-weary trio entered the edifice which was to be their home for the next three months.
    “Well,” declared Georgina, who had not visited the London house since she was in leading strings and, consequently, feared the mansion might be out of keeping with her newly-acquired democratic notions. “ ‘Tis not nearly so large as I remembered it.”
    “Nonsense,” replied Mrs. Darby, who had no such scruples. “It is a fine house indeed, and it appears dear Harry has done an excellent job of seeing all put to rights.”
    Only Olivia declined to offer an opinion. Instead, she silently followed her parent into the tiled entrance hall. Here her heart leaped at the sight of a solitary figure which, upon closer inspection, proved to be a very fine piece of statuary set into a niche in the wall.
    “Oh,” she said, striving in vain to keep her disappointment from showing in her voice. “I thought perhaps Harry would be here.”
    “But my dear, don’t you remember?” prompted her mama. “Harry has taken lodgings in Stratton Street. ‘Twould not be at all proper for you to be living under the same roof before you are wed.”
    “I know, Mama. I only hoped—that is, I thought perhaps he might be here to welcome us.”
    “I think it very shabby of him not to meet us upon our arrival,” concurred Georgina. “Depend upon it, he has probably gone to some dreadful prize-fight or some such thing.”
    But in this estimation she was mistaken. Sir Harry was, in fact, preparing to visit Covent Garden, where the celebrated actress Violetta was to appear in one of the breeches roles for which she was so much admired. Enthusiastic patron of the arts that he was, Sir Harry arrived early in order to procure a choice spot in the pit from which he might ogle the fair thespian to his heart’s content. It was here that he was hailed by the Honourable Felix Wrexham.
    “I say, Harry,” remarked this worthy. “Had no idea you was in London. Beginning to think you’d left us for good.”
    “No, just until my mourning was up. My pater, you know.”
    “Deuced sorry to hear it, old boy,” Mr. Wrexham muttered, ill at ease with the subject of man’s mortality. To this gentleman’s heartfelt relief, the curtain rose at that moment, revealing the fair Violetta as the heroine of Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night. For this first act she was clothed in female