“Then Elizabeth came, bearing a tray of cakes and sweets, and finally Harriet, who carried with her a small sheaf of paper—her current opus, Henry VIII and the Unicorn of Doom .“I’m not certain Frances is going to be appeased by an evil unicorn,” Anne told her.Harriet looked up with one arched brow. “She did not specify that it must be a good unicorn.”Anne grimaced. “You’re going to have a battle on your hands, that’s all I’m going to say on the matter.”Harriet shrugged, then said, “I’m going to begin in act two. Act one is a complete disaster. I’ve had to rip it completely apart.”“Because of the unicorn?”“No,” Harriet said with a grimace. “I got the order of the wives wrong. It’s divorced, beheaded, died, divorced, beheaded, widowed.”“How cheerful.”Harriet gave her a bit of a look, then said, “I switched one of the divorces with a beheading.”“May I give you a bit of advice?” Anne asked.Harriet looked up.“Don’t ever let anyone hear you say that out ofcontext.”

“What about me?” Frances asked.“The butler,” Harriet replied without even a second of hesitation.Frances’s mouth immediately opened to protest.“No, no,” Harriet said. “It’s the best role, I promise. You get to do everything.”“Except be a unicorn,” Daniel murmured.Frances tilted her head to the side with a resigned expression.“The next play,” Harriet finally gave in. “I shall find a way to include a unicorn in the one I’m working on right now.”Frances pumped both fists in the air. “Huzzah!”

“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.”

“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.”

“Harriet was silent, thinking, and then she said, "It is too hard to be a person. You don't only have to go on and on. You have to be--" she looked for the word she needed and could not find it. Then, "You have to be tall as well," said Harriet.”

“I’m not trying to impress you,” he replied, glancing up at the front of the room. “Gads,” he said, blinking in surprise. “What is that ?”Hyacinth followed his gaze. Several of the Pleinsworth progeny, one of whom appeared to be costumed as a shepherdess, were milling about.“Now that’s an interesting coincidence,” Gareth murmured.“It might be time to start bleating,” she agreed.“I thought this was meant to be a poetry recitation.”Hyacinth grimaced and shook her head. “An unexpected change to the program, I’m afraid.”“From iambic pentameter to Little Bo Peep?” he asked doubtfully. “It does seem a stretch.”Hyacinth gave him a rueful look. “I think there will still be iambic pentameter.”His mouth fell open. “From Peep?”She nodded, holding up the program that had been resting in her lap. “It’s an original composition,” she said, as if that would explain everything. “By Harriet Pleinsworth.The Shepherdess, the Unicorn, and Henry VIII .”“All of them? At once?”“I’m not jesting,” she said, shaking her head.“Of course not. Even you couldn’t have made this up.”Hyacinth decided to take that as a compliment.“Why didn’t I receive one of these?” he asked, taking the program from her.“I believe it was decided not to hand them out to the gentlemen,” Hyacinth said, glancing about the room. “One has to admire Lady Pleinsworth’s foresight, actually. You’d surely flee if you knew what was in store for you.”