The weather over the next few days was positively gorgeous: clear and bright with a warm, golden sun and crisp breezes; the type of weather which ripens apples and other fruits.
Annabeth had a basket filled with bread and cheese to bring a long with her on the fruit picking expedition. She carried the basket with her as she walked with the rest of the party down to Skye Castle's orchards.
The paths leading to the orchards were lined with long grasses which were faded and yellowish after months of warm, dry weather. Among the grasses grew fall flowers like golden rods, Black-eyed Susans, purple, red, and mauve chrysanthemums, and white and blue asters.
The trees which shaded the paths wore their red, yellow, and orange autumn leaves.
They came to a gate stile which marked the entrance to a pasture where Her Grace's prized herd of Red Devon cattle grazed. The milk from these cows was turned into the butter, cream, and cheeses which Skye Castle was famous for.
Mr. Di Angelo was the first to climb over the stile and he reached over to help Miss Levesque. She lifted the hem of her green apron and put a foot clad in a boot of the same hue on the stile.
Dona Reyna was the next in line to climb over.
"Might I be of some assistance?" Lord Skye asked her.
"I can manage on my own," she snapped back in reply.
Lord Skye then offered his gallant attentions to Piper, whose lovely face was shaded by a green bonnet tied with a purple ribbon.
A white apron was worn over her gown and underneath was a pair of beige boots.
She climbed up to the top bar of the stile.
"Let me help you down from there," Lord Skye offered.
"No, I'm up too high," Piper insisted with a melodramatic sigh, "I'm beyond your reach."
"Well, I'll try anyway, my girl."
He grabbed her by the waist and swung her off of her perch. Piper giggled.
Annabeth lifted the hem of her indigo colored apron so she could climb up after Piper.
The sole of her dark blue, striped boot slipped on the hem of her skirt and she stumbled off of the stile.
Lieutenant Jackson offered a hand to help her back up.
"Thank you, Sir," Annabeth sneered contemptuously as she accepted the steadying hand and climbing over the stile.
He gave her a polite but cool nod and provided Lady Thalia, who made up the rear of the party, with the same assistance.
Annabeth filled her basket with as many apples, pears, plums, and grapes as she could carry. The estate's third gardener showed them which fruits were best eaten as is, and which ones were better baked, turned into preserves, etc. He explained that Skye Castle's orchards grew 150 varieties of apples, 95 varieties of pears, 20 varieties of grapes, and 10 varieties of plums.
Lord Skye held a ladder steady while Lieutenant Jackson reached up to grab a particularly round, ripe, and juicy looking golden English russet apple at the top of a tree, which Piper had pointed out to him. He twisted the apple with an upward motion and pulled it away from the branch. Stepping down from the ladder, his foot missed a step and came tumbling down, dropping the precious apple.
Annabeth swept in and picked it up.
"They say that in Ancient Greece," she mused, "Tossing an apple to a young lady was considered a marriage proposal."
"That wasn't my intention, Miss Chase," he snapped back.
"Well, I'll take it anyway."
She bit into the firm, juicy flesh of the apple and savored it's crisp, tart taste.
"That apple was mine," Piper cut in, "I'm the one who found it."
"I was getting it for Miss McLean," Lieutenant Jackson added.
"Well, it's too late now," Annabeth took another bite from the apple.
"Lieutenant Jackson, you must admit that I had the prior claim on it and Miss Chase has robbed me."
"Venus and Minerva are bickering over the golden apple of discord," Dona Reyna whispered to Miss Levesque.
"Does Juno lay a claim to it as well?" Annabeth quipped.
"It's only any apple," Mr. Di Angelo's cooler head weighed in. "There's plenty more on the tree."
When their baskets could hold no more, they gathered under a large oak tree for a picnic. Being out in the hot sun had given Annabeth a powerful thirst. In her basket was a small jug of wine shaped like an owl; it's head served as a cup.
The picnic consisted of the fruit they had picked and whatever bread, cheese, and cold meats they had brought with them.
Mr. Solace, Skye Castle's resident hermit, came across the party and decided to join them. He had his guitar with him and was pressed to play it for them and sing a ballad with Piper.
"As I walked out over London bridge," he sang. "One misty morning early,
I overheard a fair pretty maid was lamenting for her Geordie."
"Go bridle me my milk white steed," Piper joined in. "Go bridle me my pony. I will ride to London's court to plead for the life of Geordie. Ah my Geordie will be hanged with a golden chain. This is not the chain of many.
He was born of king's royal breed
and lost to a virtuous lady. He never stole nor cow nor calf; he never hurted any. Stole sixteen of the king's royal deer, and he sold them in Bohenny."
"The judge looked over his left shoulder. He said: fair maid I'm sorry.
He said: fair maid you must be gone for I cannot pardon Geordie."
"I have born three sons to my Geordie dear, The third ne'er saw his daddie:
O pardon, pardon, noble sir. Pity a woeful lady! Ah my Geordie will be hanged in a golden chain. This is not the chain of many. Stole sixteen of the king's royal deer, and he sold them in Bohenny."
A/N My favorite version of the ballad "Geordie" is the one recorded by Anaïs Mitchell and Jefferson Hammer, mostly because it ends with the fair maid threatening to fight the judge for Geordie's life.
Mr. Solace's presence seemed to make Mr. Di Angelo uncomfortable. His head was lowered and his face wore an expression that was more sullen than usual. Annabeth recalled hearing about how Mr. Solace had given Mr. Di Angelo a good talking-to for trying to pick some of his roses. She imagined that young Di Angelo was the type who held grudges over minor slights like that.
"Such things as hanging a man simply for stealing a deer are the reason why the French had their revolution," Piper exclaimed after she finished her song. "And if we here in England do not change our ways, the same will happen here."
"I believe you're referring to the Enclosure Act," Lord Skye added. "Don't you think we should protect the rights of property owners?"
"Not at the expense of those who have nothing."
"Well said, Piper," Annabeth cut in, "All of this bloodshed going on in France is deplorable but hardly surprising. When men are treated like animals, they will act like animals."
"Your mother's family is French, are they not, Miss McLean," Miss Levesque asked. "I hope you haven't lost any relatives to the guillotine?"
"No, thank the Lord. They all were able to emigrate to England."
"I pray that nothing like the terror comes over here."
"Don't worry, Miss Levesque," Lieutenant Jackson laughed. "I and the brave men of the Argo II will protect our shores from such carnage."
"And when do you expect to be called to your country's defense, Lieutenant Jackson?" Annabeth asked.
"Soon, I hope. I'm anxious to be off on another adventure."
"Wouldn't a certain young lady pine away while you're gone?"
"You mean my little sister? I've been away for most of her life and I doubt she could even pick me out of a crowd."
The told Lieutenant Jackson gave Annabeth told her that he knew very well that she was not referring to his sister. She looked up to see that the sky had started to cloud over and felt that the air had turned cool and damp.
"Oh dear," she said to her companions, "It looks like it might rain again. I think we should return now."
Fortunately, they took a different path back to Skye Castle which did not require passing through the same pasture they had before. There were no stiles where Annabeth would need Lieutenant Jackson's assistance to climb over.
There was plenty to talk about over supper. Word had come that a celebrated London theater troupe would be coming to Olympus, a seaside resort town a few miles away for Skye-on-Styx, for a double bill performance of The Conscious Lovers and The London Merchant.
"I've heard that theatre in Olympus is every bit as good as the ones in London," Piper told everyone before taking a spoonful of leek and potato soup. "And Silena has seen this company perform at the Theater Royal Drury Lane. She says they were superb."
"Oh, I would love to go to the theater," Annabeth declared after she had finished taking a bite of prawn curry on a bed of watercress salad. "It's such a shame that I've never been."
"Silena says it's quite glamorous and everyone gets quite dressed up. She told me in her last letter about how the last time she went, a Lady Tanaka showed up wearing a court gown with a train and everything. She had to walk into her box turned sideways because that was only way her panniers would fit through the door."
"A court gown to the theater?" Dona Reyna gasped. "Can you think of anything more vulgar."
A/N extremely ornate clothing known as "court dress" was worn by the lucky few invited to attend royal functions. For an 18th Century royal or aristocratic lady, this would have included vast pannier hoops and long trains. The iconic look of Marie Antoinette epitomized 18th Century court clothing. Court dress was typically several decades behind regular fashion.
By the 1790s, panniers had fallen out of style but were still expected to be worn at court functions so at this period we get rather odd looking outfits which force together the newly fashionable high-waisted silhouette of the 1790s with vast skirts of twenty plus years earlier.
"I doubt we'll get such elegance in Olympus," Lord Skye informed the young ladies, "But I'm sure the performance will be quite a treat."
He tucked into the first course's entree: roast chicken served with asparagus drizzled in egg sauce.
"I haven't been to the theater in the longest time..." Her Grace, the Duchess cut in.
Over the next course, they discussed plans to go to the theater in Olympus the following Monday.
"I'd prefer go see something other than sentimental nonsense like The Conscious Lovers and The London Merchant," Mr. Di Angelo scoffed, dipping a cheddar biscuit into his turtle soup. "I would much rather watch something like Macbeth or Doctor Faustus."
"There's a copy of each in the library," Lieutenant Jackson informed him. "Maybe you could read aloud after dinner. Your sister tells me that you have a fine voice for reading aloud."
Mr. Di Angelo gave a little half smile which showed that the idea was not displeasing to him.
Annabeth admired how Lieutenant Jackson was able to deal with the sullen and withdrawn boy and help him come of out his shell a little. The thought that she was praising Lieutenant Jackson, who she had written off as a good-for-nothing cad, made the baked lobster and corn pudding she had eaten sit uneasily in her stomach.
After a dessert of lemon tart and negus, a sweetened wine, they adjourned to the drawing room.
Mr. Di Angelo read aloud speeches and soliloquies from Dr. Faustus. Annabeth was not familiar with the play but she recognized one of the passages he read: "Was this the face that launched a thousand ships and burnt the top less towers of Ilium? Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss."
Mr. Di Angelo's voice was a low, growl filled with fire and ice. His style of reading was restrained, almost monotone, but this restraint made it all the more powerful. He filled Christopher Marlowe's words with subtle touches of anguish, desire, and defiance.
As Annabeth worked on her sailor sampler, her mind jumped several days in advance to the evening when she would attend the theater for the first time.