“Love is blind,” Harriet quipped.“But not illiterate,” Elizabeth retorted.”
“A misunderstanding?" Elizabeth echoed. "With an anvil?""Oh, stop," Harriet admonished her. "I think he looks very dashing.""As if he dashed into an anvil.”
“What happened to your face?" Harriet asked."It was a misunderstanding," Daniel said smoothly, wondering how long it might take for his bruises to heal. He did not think he was particularly vain, but the questions were growing tiresome."A misunderstanding?" Elizabeth echoed. "With an anvil?""Oh, stop," Harriet admonished her. "I think he looks very dashing." "As if he dashed into an anvil.""Pay no attention," Harriet said to him. "She lacks imagination.”
“Miss Wynter, I think you should be the evil queen,” Harriet said.“There’s an evil queen?” Daniel echoed. With obvious delight.“Of course,” Harriet replied. “Every good play has an evil queen.”Frances actually raised her hand. “And a un—”“Don’t say it,” Elizabeth growled.Frances crossed her eyes, put her knife to her forehead in an approximation of a horn, and neighed.”
“All of this presupposes that I have set my sights on a single male.' Susan's eyes bugged out. 'You certainly cannot set your signs on a married man!' 'I meant a particular man,' Elizabeth retorted, swatting her sister on the shoulder.”
“Help me. Please?”She gave him an abashed nod (but not nearly soabashed as she ought) and turned to Harriet. “I think that Lord Winstead refers to the rhyming qualities of the title.” Harriet blinked a few times. “It doesn’t rhyme.”“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Elizabeth burst out. “ Finstead Winstead?”Harriet’s gasp very nearly sucked the air from the room. “I never noticed!” she exclaimed.“Obviously,” her sister drawled.“I must have been thinking about you when I wrotethe play,” Harriet said to Daniel. From her expression, he gathered he was meant to feel flattered, so he tried to smile.”
“Then it’s settled,” Harriet said. “We shall work out the smaller roles later.”“What about you?” Elizabeth demanded.“Oh, I’m going to be the goddess of the sun and moon.”“The tale gets stranger and stranger,” Daniel said.“Just wait until act seven,” Miss Wynter told him.“Seven?” His head snapped up. “There are seven acts?”“Twelve,” Harriet corrected, “but don’t worry, you’re in only eleven of them. Now then, Miss Wynter, when do you propose that we begin our rehearsals? And may we do so out of doors? There is a clearing by the gazebo that would be ideal.”