One Perfect Rose Read Online Free Page B

Stephen found that he shared the feeling. There was something magical about the theater, even under these crude conditions. Though he had a box at every important playhouse in London, it had been years since he’d looked forward to a performance this much. He mentally crossed his fingers that the actors were halfway decent.
    A metallic boom of artificial thunder filled the barn, causing several nervous feminine squeals. Then, as flashes of false lightning illuminated the shadowy corners of the barn, two sailors staggered from the left wing and started talking loudly about the storm and the likelihood that their ship would sink.
    The sailors were soon joined by their noble passengers, all of them bewailing their imminent drowning. After they left the stage, there was a long moment of stillness before the magician Prospero and his lovely young daughter Miranda emerged from the flimsily curtained right wing. Both players had dark hair and striking blue eyes, and were clearly blood kin. Stephen glanced at his playbill. Thomas and Jessica Fitzgerald.
    Prospero had such a commanding presence that it took a moment for Stephen to really see Miranda. His first look was followed by another, for the girl was a beauty. The audience greeted her with applause and whistles of appreciation. Miranda gave her admirers a saucy smile and waited for quiet. When she had everyone’s attention, she began to speak in a crystalline voice that carried easily throughout the barn.
    Prospero replied, his rich baritone explaining that he was really the Duke of Milan and she was a princess. Stephen straightened from his lounging position, attention riveted. Fitzgerald and his daughter were splendid, with a natural style that suited the intimacy of the improvised theater perfectly. Stephen had never seen the scene played better.
    Next to enter was the sprite Ariel, accompanied by more whistles and claps from the rowdier men in the audience. Stephen didn’t blame them; Ariel was a voluptuous woman of mature years named Maria Fitzgerald, surely wife to Prospero and mother to Miranda in real life. She could also act. Her rich voice brought poignance to the role of the invisible spirit who served the magician faithfully yet yearned for freedom.
    Stephen crossed his arms over his chest and relaxed against the wall, more than willing to surrender to the illusions of the play. Nature helped by contributing a genuine tempest and drumming rain to counterpoint the story. Within the darkened barn, it was easy to believe in a distant island of mist and magic.
    Though the other actors weren’t as talented as the three Fitzgeralds, all were competent. The monster Caliban drew laughter when he appeared in a shaggy ape suit that completely disguised the age and appearance of the actor. Cheerfully unsubtle, the monster’s stomping about the stage was received with great approval. The handsome young man who played Ferdinand, the yearning lover, wasn’t much of an actor, but his appearances brought happy sighs from females in the audience.
    The Tempest wasn’t noted for a strong plot. However, Stephen particularly liked the story because of the way Prospero forgave his brother Antonio for the latter’s murder attempt a dozen years before. The world needed more forgiveness, which was why Stephen had taken such efforts to reconcile with his own brother. He had been rewarded many times over for reaching out across years of anger and misunderstanding.
    By the time the lovers had been united, Ariel had been joyfully released from the magician’s service, and Prospero had drowned his magic book, Stephen felt better than he had in days. The Fitzgerald company was an unexpected gem. He joined the enthusiastic applause after Prospero’s final speech.
    One by one the other actors emerged from the wings to take their bows. Dropping her sprite’s playfulness, Maria Fitzgerald was regal, while her daughter Jessica was a charming coquette.
    Then