Darkest of Times [Albert J Moriarty] - Moriarty the Patriot

Act 1, Scene 3 - Carriage Ride For Two

With a twist and a pin here and there, Eleanor grips the top of her hair back and out of her face, placing her white lace gloves on her hands and grabbing her hat from the dressing table —green to match her dress.

Opening the door to her dressing room, she glances around the corridor, shutting the door behind herself. A further inspection indicates that the majority of the cast have already left for the evening.

Looking up from the floor, a heavy sigh escaping her lips, she sees Henry sipping the remnants of his tumbler of port, script in hand.

"Oh, Henry, you're still here?" She asks.

He looks up from the script, motioning to the empty glass. "Only a nightcap to send me on my way. And yourself, Eleanor?"

Smiling weakly, she shrugs her shoulders. "I prefer to take a moment to myself after a show. Reflect on my performance..."

"And this isn't an occurrence since the review you received?" He asks, placing the glass down on the nearby coffee table. "I don't mean to pry, we don't know each other too well, but we are playing a husband and wife so there's a certain level of communication there."

She huffs a laugh at his subtle joke. "That's true. I'm— well, I'm never usually this...insecure about..."

"About?"

"It's no matter," She waves a hand, hurrying towards the back door.

"Eleanor!"

Turning on her heel, she raises her eyebrows at him. "Yes, Henry?"

He places his hat on his head, nodding to the door. "I'll walk you out."

The pair exit the building together, walking out into the street, their breath visible in the cold evening air.

"Henry, please—"

"Your performance is always fantastic, Eleanor," He sends her a sincere nod. "Worry yourself not about the critics. I've had plenty of horrible comments made about myself, but you must brush it off. Self-sabotage is your worst enemy and our doubts are traitors."

She opens her mouth after a moment of silence. "I'd best be off."

Henry motions ahead. "I believe you have a ride home waiting for you."

Turning to where he motioned, she spots a carriage pulled over on the opposite side of the road. Albert climbs out of it, a hand raised and a smile on his face.

She clears her throat, the corner of her lip tugging up as she waves a hand to Henry. "Thank you, Henry. Have a nice night."

He returns the gesture and she brushes the stray hairs from her face as she sheepishly walks towards the curbside.

From the other side of the road, Albert gains her attention. "Eleanor, wait a moment."

He hurriedly glances side to side, making his way over the road to greet her. Chest tightening and heart rate increasing as he reaches down to her hand, he raises it, placing a gentle kiss on her knuckle.

"Evening, Albert." She says, breathlessly.

"I hope I don't seem presumptuous, but can I extend an offer for a carriage ride home?"

Pursing her lips to hide her grin, she tilts her head. "I wouldn't want to impose. I'm sure you have better things to do with your evening..."

"Please," He gazes at her chestnut eyes. "It would be my pleasure."

She smiles. "I would appreciate a journey home with you. Wait, I beg your pardon, not to your home, I meant—"

"Don't worry," He chuckles. "I understood the sentiment. I'll inform the driver of your address."