Somewhere My Love (41 page)

Will gave a nod, his attention wholly
on
Julia as she drifted into the hall. 
What sweet distraction. 
Lustrous hair spilled down over her
high-
waisted
pale green gown.
A pink sash
was
tied
beneath her mounded breasts and long
skirts swept the floor.
She held a bouquet of herbs to her nose, inhaling their scent, as she met his eyes in
unveiled expectation.

Will doubted she even realized what she did, but
she
was so damn irresistible.
He
felt
weak.
It was all he could do to reply sensibly to Charlotte
and not rush at Julia
.

“
I’m aware of Julia’s uniqueness.
”
God knows he was
po
undingly
, achingly aware.
“And
guarding her well.”

Grandmother Nora arrived on Millicent’s arm in a swish of red sa
tin.
The Queen Elizabeth styled evening gown lent a royal air to her already regal bearing.  She la
cked only the bejeweled crown.
Enthusiasm bright in her rouged face, she tapped across the f
loor with her cane.
Settling
in her high-backed chair,
she gestured for practice
to begin. 

She cast a shrewd eye at Julia,
and
then at Will.
“As Ophelia has made a remarkable recovery from her unfortunate shock
––
”
Here, she paused to look narrowly at Paul, who made
a study of his scuffed shoes.
“We shall commence with la
st evening’s neglected scenes.
Do try to appear less radiant, Miss Morrow, and a bit more
‘
tetched
’
as the Scottish say.”

Lyle grunted under his breath, but confined his comments to himself with the old lady present.

Will watched in bemusement as Julia trailed to the center of the hall
, eyes cast over her shoulder
seeking him.
Thus far, they’
d
fooled no one.
A
nd all he wanted to do was kiss her, endlessly.
Was anything else really necessary?

A
violi
nist struck up a poignant chord
and he swiveled his head at the bald man in a shiny b
l
ack suit seated at
the back
of the hall
.
Who in the world?

Waving
diamond studded fingers at the musician
,
Grandmother
Nora enlightened the dumbfounded assembly
.
“I brought Marv along to
assist with
the
mood.
Laertes, you’
re in this scene,” she alerted
Lyle. “Dou
glas and myself.
Actually,
most of the cast is.
Ah, yes, the setting: first the castle
courtyard, then the graveyard.
For those of you who’ve forgotten, Laertes is enraged with Hamlet for accidentally running his father through with a sword.”

“A trifling
matter,
compared to some,
” Ly
le said in muffled sarcasm, then
took his place center stage.

The perpetually sweaty Douglas sat in his
chair-throne beside Queen
N
ora, his royal contribution
a substantial paunc
h and flushed
face which gave him
an overly indulged appearance.
To his credit, he was attempting to grow a royal beard
,
which he mopped with his handkerchief, along with three chins and a beaded forehead.

Lyle strode to Douglas
in a convincing
displ
ay of anger.
Drawing
a sword from the le
ather carriage at his waist, he
pointed it at the uneasy m
onarch.  “‘Let come what comes.
Only I shall be avenged most thoroughly for my father.’”

Douglas shifted nervously with the blade uncomfortably near his throat.  “‘Good Laertes, is it writ in your revenge that you will draw against both friend and foe?’”

While Hamlet’s treacherous uncle planted seeds of hatred against him
––
not difficult with this
particular
Laertes
––
Will’s attention strayed
back
to Julia
.
She’d settled
on the flo
or
and was
arranging her nosegay.
The
empty expression
i
n her eyes
gave him the creeps considering how ardently he hoped
to keep her from such a fate.
She added a chilling touch by humming an aimless tune
. Either she was a fine actor or the part came rather too naturally.

He
further
cringed as
N
ora prompte
d the extras to gather
around “poor mad Ophelia
.
”

Paul seemed
especially affected, as though
he’d forgotten it was a play.  Perhaps he had
.
Lyle and Douglas broke off at the murmu
r of the crowd.
The two men and Queen Nora walked
over
to Julia.
She lifted her head, seeing,
and yet not seeing them.

She
held out a
leafy stem to Lyle.
“‘There’s rosemary, that’s for remembrance.’”

He
bent and
took it from her in a credible performance of disbelief, this being the first Laertes knew of his sister’s
recent
insanity.

“‘Pray you, love, remember,’”
Julia said
, rising
.
Sh
e gave him a
crushed blossom.
“‘
And there’
s pansies, that’s for thoughts,’”
she continued in the once well
-versed
languag
e of flowers.
She handed blades
of grass to the queen with a demented smile. “‘There’s fennel for you and columbines,’” she said and skipped, child-like, to the king. 

Will was
impressed and
spooked
.

Holding
out a handful of herbal
stems to the monarch, she said,
“‘There’s rue fo
r you, and here’s some for me.
But you must wear your rue with a
difference.  There’s a daisy.
I’d give you some violets but they wit
hered all when my father died.
They say he made a good en
d,’” she added to Lyle.
With
a final glazed look at him, she wandered off the stage.

Lyle stared after her.
“‘O heavens, is it possible a young maid’s wits should be as mortal as an old man’s life?’”

Will fervently
hoped
not. 

“We’ll stop he
re,” Grandmother Nora directed
.
“Skip the scene where Ophelia drowns, and return to the funeral.”

A
circlet of daisies wreathed
her hair like a maiden bride
as
Julia lay
down
on the stretcher.
Lyle
and Paul, subbed in for the actor taken ill, lifted either end
,
Lyle in front.
Father Seth covered her with a
white
sheet,
then raised the Holy Cross and took his place at the head of the
mournful
procession. 

Ignorant of Ophelia’s death,
Will and
Dave
entered the stage
as if in secret and studied
the funeral
procession
.
“‘The king,
the courtiers, who is this they
follow?’” Wi
ll asked his
equally clueless
friend
,
Horatio, and t
hey both edged
nearer the somber assembly.

T
he
ir
guest violinist sawe
d plaintively on his strings as
Lyle and Paul lowered the stretcher to the pretend ear
th beside the imaginary grave.
Father Seth peeled back the sheet to reveal Julia, unmoving, e
yes closed, in assumed death. 
H
e
solemnly
intoned,
“‘
Lay her in the earth.
And from her fair and unpol
luted flesh may
violets spring,’”

Whoa
.
T
his
play had taken a jarring turn.
Will had n
o difficulty
in
acting dismayed.
He could
hardly bear to see her like this
,
even in pretense
.
Why couldn’t they be performing
one of Shakespeare’s comedies?

Queen Nora
gazed down
at Julia with misty eyes and tossed a handful of rose petals over he
r lifeless beauty.
“‘S
weets to the sweet. Farewell.
I hoped thou
should
st
have been my Hamlet’s wife.
I thought thy bride-b
ed to have decked, sweet maid.
And not to have strewed thy grave.’”

Goosebumps
scattered
over
Will.
This was too eerie.

T
he
matriarch turned away, and Lyle
fell to his knees bes
ide Julia.
“‘
Hold off the earth awhile,
til
I have cau
ght her once more in mine arms.’”

He slid his arms beneath her
, clutching her to hi
s chest more ardently than
Will thought
necessary.

Lyle wailed, “‘O rose of May, dear maid,
kind sister.’”

Will approached the mournful gathering
ready to pry Julia from Lyle.
His vile uncle,
thinking him assas
sinated by Rosencrantz and Guildenstern,
greeted him
with
a sweaty glower
.
His queenly mother was stunned, and Laertes eyed him as
a wolf guarding its prey. 

S
o much for Hamlet’s welcome
home
.
What a
dysf
unctional bunch
.
It made Will
wonder about Shakespeare’s family.

Exuding
reluctance,
Lyle
laid Julia do
wn and flew at
him
, seizing him by the
shirt and yanking it up around his neck.  

“‘The
devil take thy soul, Hamlet!’”

Will
leveled
ready
scorn at him.
“‘I
prithee
take thy fingers from mine throat for I have in me something dangerous which let thy
wi
seness
fear.
Hold off thy hand.
’”

He threw Lyle off and they grappled convincingly
––
very
.

“‘Pluck them asunder!’”
Douglas ordered.

Ron the brick mason/grave digger grabbed Lyle, and
Dave
caught hold of
Will.
He stared down at Julia, terribly
still, and blasted Lyle from his depths
.
“‘I loved Ophelia!  Forty thousand brothers could not with all their
quantity of love make up my sum.
’”

Hamlet had an odd way
of s
howing his feelings for the
afflicted
girl
he’d driven
to an early grave,
but the words rang true
to Will
.
Again, he
rounded on Laertes. “‘What wilt thou do for her!
Show me what thou wilt do?’”