The Rightful Lord (The Saga Of Wolfbridge Manor Book 3) by Sahara Kelly (13 ebook reader .TXT) 📕

“I suppose we have to sing too, not pretend,” muttered Jeremy.

“You do indeed.”

He sighed.

*~~*~~*

The afternoon began with a light meal, and then everyone turned their attention to Wolfbridge’s ballroom. It had not been used very much, although it had proved to be useful on several occasions, providing shelter for tenants attending outdoor events. It had also been the site of violence, but that was—thankfully—in the past.

But now, one end had become a theatre of sorts, thanks to Gabriel’s inventive nature.

The dais contained several chairs and a low stool, and green fabric covered the aged boards. There was a large curtain behind it, and two smaller ones either side draped as they would be if this wasn’t Wolfbridge, but Drury Lane.

Beside the chairs were large pots with boughs of pine and evergreens, simulating a forest of sorts.

And on the floor to one side of all this was a single chair. This was for the narrator, Harry, who had been unanimously elected as having the best speaking voice.

“You’ll be heard in the back row,” said Jeremy. “All that yelling in the army.” He grinned as Harry rolled his eyes.

“Well at least you don’t have to learn any lines,” consoled Gabriel. “You’ll have the entire script right there in your lap.

“A valid point,” he had agreed.

And exactly on time, the audience began to arrive, slowly at first, then filling the chairs set out for them.

The children were allowed to sit on the cushions in front of the stage, and there was quite a bit of excited chatter as they settled themselves. Some of the men remained standing, preferring to be out of the way.

Gwyneth guessed they were planning on sneaking away if it was too boring; she hoped their performance would keep everybody in the room. This would be an important lesson for all if it went off well.

She peered through a tiny peephole in one of the curtains.

“Filling up, then,” whispered Evan at her shoulder.

She nodded. “The children are happy on the floor. That was an excellent idea.”

“I have them now and again.” He grinned at her, his face close.

She couldn’t resist it. “For luck.” Leaning into him, she dropped a quick kiss on his lips.

“Me too,” Jeremy walked up.

“Of course.”

Within moments they were all there, ready to start the performance, and all kissed by their Lady. Including Royce, who was the last, and—if she read his touch rightly—made a slightly more intense expression of affection.

“Go.” Gabriel pushed Harry onto the makeshift stage.

Since he didn’t have to change into a costume, he’d been elected as the welcoming committee and seating manager. The fact that he’d already greeted every member of the audience was completely ignored and his appearance from the stage stimulated a round of applause and more than a few cheers. It was a good start.

The plan was to keep it as simple as possible, yet entertaining. Something that would enchant the children and amuse the adults.

Gwyneth guessed it was working as she heard the silence fall and Harry clear his throat as he began the narration.

“Once upon a time there was a beautiful princess…”

That was her cue.

Clad in a suitably sparkling “princess” gown, which had been created by Gabriel from bits and pieces of leftover fabric, decorated trims and ribbons, and all draped in the classical Grecian style. Gwyneth walked onto the dais and sat in the chair, keeping her head high and hoping the candlelight was enough to make the paste jewels in her little crown twinkle.

There was a collective “ooh” as she settled herself. Good. It was working. She smiled and nodded, in what she assumed was a royal manner.

“She was a kindly princess who ruled her kingdom fairly. But there was one problem. She was lonely and wanted a Prince to rule with her.”

That brought a tiny snort from someone in the audience.

“Honestly, Mrs B. She did.” Harry went off-script and there was a solid round of laughter.

“Anyway,” he continued. “She let it be known throughout the neighbouring kingdoms that she would like to meet a suitable prince.” He took a breath. “There were many applicants, since everyone knew of her kind heart and her beauty.”

“And her land, lad. Don’t forget her land…”

Gwyneth had a hard time keeping a straight face. She hadn’t expected quite so much audience participation.

“Right,” nodded Harry, fighting a laugh. “Over the next few months she met many Princes, but at the end had narrowed it down to four. They were…”

He paused for a moment, letting the excitement build. “Prince Osborne”.

Jeremy strode onto the small stage, swirling his short cape dramatically. He did look very handsome in his tight stockings and the puffed trousers Gabriel and Evan had put together.

There was a round of applause. Jeremy bowed to Gwyneth, took her hand and kissed it, and then moved to one side of the stage.

“Prince Wymonde.”

Evan marched on with a clank, since he had managed to attach several pieces of old armour to his shirt. Gwyneth wanted to giggle as he also kissed her hand, although with a yelp and a wince as the metal bit into his ribs.

But she held her countenance and waited as the applause came again.

“Prince Elfric.”

Gabriel entered, clad entirely in white, a cape trimmed with something glittery and an elegant cane in his hand. He didn’t swagger, but there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that this was indeed a prince. He was made for the stage and Gwyneth knew all eyes were on him as he gracefully bowed low and kissed her hand. This time the audience both applauded and cheered.

“Show off,” hissed Jeremy.

Gwyneth bit her lip.

“And finally, Prince Cordell.”

The last prince, Royce, was a sight to behold. His black boots shone, black breeches hugged his