The King's Favorite by Scott Susan Holloway

Author:Scott, Susan Holloway [Scott, Susan Holloway]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General Fiction
ISBN: 045122406X
Publisher: NAL
Published: 2008-01-01T07:00:00+00:00

Alone, I sat to one side of the playhouse stage, watching the others rehearse their scene. I was eager for my turn and gave no care to how the other players kept apart from me, from respect or shyness or envy; it could have been any of those. I’d been so rapt with Charles that Killigrew hadn’t given me a fresh part since January, when I’d done the revival of The Sisters. It was now May, four months later, but the wait had been worth my while.

Mr. Dryden had written a splendid new play, Tyrannick Love, or The Royal Martyr, with an equally splendid role for me as Valeria, the daughter of the Roman Emperor Maximin. True, it was a grand tragedy, a history piece full of speeches and heroics instead of my usual comedy, but so well written that I knew it would be hugely popular. I even had the good fortune of stabbing myself to death on stage, dying in a great spurt of pig’s blood. Murders, suicides, and martyrdoms always played well with audiences, who relished the sight of such edifying gore. A saint as well-known as Catherine of Alexandria, and the name saint of the queen, would only help our profits the more.

While I waited, I repeated my lines silently to myself to make sure I knew them. My memory had always been good; one or two readings by another to me was generally enough for the words to stick in my ears. This new play reminded me of my first speaking part in another of Mr. Dryden’s plays, The Indian Emperor, where I’d also portrayed a royal daughter. Only five years before, yet when I considered how far I’d come in those five years, it might have been a lifetime.

The scene ended, and I rose and lifted my head to a regal angle, ready to make my entrance. But instead Killigrew came toward me, clearing his throat in a self-conscious way that should have been a warning to me of what was to come.

“I’m sorry, Nell, but we’re going to move ahead to the next scene,” he said. “We’ll come back to yours in a bit.”

“ ’Od’s faith, Killigrew,” I said, more disappointed than angry. “You’ve always said before that we must practice the acts in orders, so we learn to judge our timing and costumes.”

“That’s the preferred manner, yes,” he said, and shook his head. “But there’s little use in continuing without Mr. Hart to play his role opposite you.”

“He’s not here?” I don’t know why I asked. I knew where he must be, and so did everyone else.

“Mr. Hart remains in his room.” Killigrew shrugged, to indicate that there was nothing more to be said or done. “He is, ah, engaged.”

“You mean he’s oiling the notch of a certain lady countess.” I sighed with resignation; there would be no refusing Lady Castlemaine. “Poor Hart! I trust he’s taken his physic today. I only wish Her Ladyship would not feel the itch during our rehearsals.

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