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She went over to her, and she said, "What are you drawing? Laughter If we're being strict about it, wherever he went, he was four that year. He was in the Nativity play. Do you remember the story? Laughter No, it was big, it was a big story.
Mel Gibson did the sequel, you may have seen it. Laughter "Nativity II.
We considered this to be one of the lead parts. They come in bearing gifts, gold, frankincense and myrrh. This really happened. We were sitting there, and I think they just went out of sequence, because we talked to the little boy afterward and said, "You OK with that?
Was that wrong? The three boys came in, four-year-olds with tea towels on their heads. They put these boxes down, and the first boy said, "I bring you gold. If they don't know, they'll have a go. Am I right? They're not frightened of being wrong. I don't mean to say that being wrong is the same thing as being creative. What we do know is, if you're not prepared to be wrong, you'll never come up with anything original — if you're not prepared to be wrong. And by the time they get to be adults, most kids have lost that capacity.
They have become frightened of being wrong. And we run our companies like this. We stigmatize mistakes. And we're now running national education systems where mistakes are the worst thing you can make. And the result is that we are educating people out of their creative capacities.
Picasso once said this, he said that all children are born artists. The problem is to remain an artist as we grow up. I believe this passionately, that we don't grow into creativity, we grow out of it. Or rather, we get educated out of it. So why is this? I lived in Stratford-on-Avon until about five years ago. In fact, we moved from Stratford to Los Angeles.
So you can imagine what a seamless transition this was. Laughter Actually, we lived in a place called Snitterfield, just outside Stratford, which is where Shakespeare's father was born. Are you struck by a new thought?
I was. You don't think of Shakespeare having a father, do you? Do you? Because you don't think of Shakespeare being a child, do you? Shakespeare being seven? I never thought of it.
I mean, he was seven at some point. He was in somebody's English class, wasn't he? Laughter How annoying would that be? Laughter "Must try harder. Actually, my son didn't want to come. I've got two kids; he's 21 now, my daughter's He didn't want to come to Los Angeles. He loved it, but he had a girlfriend in England.
This was the love of his life, Sarah. He'd known her for a month. Laughter Mind you, they'd had their fourth anniversary, because it's a long time when you're He was really upset on the plane.
He said, "I'll never find another girl like Sarah. Laughter But something strikes you when you move to America and travel around the world: every education system on earth has the same hierarchy of subjects.
Every one. Doesn't matter where you go. You'd think it would be otherwise, but it isn't. At the top are mathematics and languages, then the humanities. At the bottom are the arts. Everywhere on earth. And in pretty much every system, too, there's a hierarchy within the arts. Art and music are normally given a higher status in schools than drama and dance.
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There must be a solution. Lord Loftus always calls us by the color of our hair. You look like a pirate rogue. And do you have a clean shirt? Colin turned to his brother. Matthew rode a nag that was half lame.
Rain was in the air. He was exhausted and at this point running on sheer willpower. He wanted Maiden Hill, and he wanted to stake his claim now. He knew the Valley. It was a close, opinionated community. Too long, he realized heavily. Colin asked after their parents, who had passed away from an epidemic some five years ago. You know neither one of them would be happy without the other.
His parents had worshiped each other. There is no way you could have been present. In fact, the parish is fortunate we lost so few to that fever. He could have come. His excuses seemed insignificant now. I mean, Father Ruley had plans for him. He said Father could have done anything he wanted. Instead, because he married Mother, he had to settle on being a cobbler. He loved Mother very much.
Matt laughed. I wish you could have seen the look on your face. Of course, I agree with her, although I never thought of myself as a romantic. However, you are right. I am more ambitious. I plan on marrying for all the oldfashioned reasons—wealth and connections.
They titled lesser men than me, Matt. Before Colin could respond, the sound of hounds barking and the blare of a hunting horn interrupted them. War-trained senses alert, Oscar stopped dead in the road, picking up his ears. A beat later, a red fox charged through the thicket out onto the road in front of the horses.
He paused, one foot poised in the air, seeming to look right at Colin.
It was a defining moment. Life was sometimes like that, moments when Colin felt a connection. Experience had taught him to be aware of these moments, and right now, he felt incredible sympathy for the hunted. The howling of the hounds grew louder. A blink later, a pack of brown and white hunting hounds rushed the thicket, some jumping over it, some attempting to squeeze though impossibly tight spaces.
Their tongues were hanging out of the sides of their mouths, and their eyes shone with the enjoyment of the chase. Oscar stood his ground with relish. As the dogs moved toward him, he arched his neck and pawed the ground, warning them to beware. Move on, move on. One came too close, and Oscar kicked out, sending the dog tumbling. The horse faltered and then righted himself. Tufts of gray hair stood out over his ears under his hat, and his face was red with exertion.
As his wild-eyed horse circled, he caught sight of Colin and Matt. Could have jumped on you. I see you still enjoy the hunt. I had to return. He ran through here somewhere. Look at the demmed dogs. Running around in circles. Way up yonder. Not even close? He pulled his hat off his head and beat it against his thighs at the dogs.
They sat on their haunches and waited for his tantrum to subside, which it did, as abruptly as it had come. Loftus smashed the hat back on his head and turned to Colin. But I will catch him. One of these days.
Where are you gentlemen off to? I want to hear all about it. Heard of your exploits. Made the Valley proud! Come along, come along.
The dogs fell in behind him. Colin flashed Matt a smile.
Stable lads came running up to collect dogs and horses. Here he is now! A war hero! Fetch us some hot toddies, and double the whiskey. Is my lady at home? Right where I want her. She likes the Reverend and will want to see our war hero. Hop to, man. Double the whiskey!
Delivered it without spilling a drop. The butler bowed to attend his duties, leaving Matt and Colin to follow their host. Lady Loftus came out into the hall. She was a petite woman, well rounded and matronly, with sparkling blue eyes and rosy cheeks. Know everything you did against the French.
Proud of you, we are. And then Colin understood her quandary. He looked past his hosts to inside the room. There, rising from a chair in front of a tray of biscuits and cakes where she and Lady Loftus had apparently been having a cozy chat, was Lady Rosalyn, her expression pinched and guarded. She was no happier to see Colin than he was to see her.
Chapter Three Rosalyn rose slowly to her feet, uncertain if she was ready to confront her new nemesis, Colonel Mandland. She wrapped her arms protectively around it, and the air between them crackled with the same energy that heralded a storm.
His eyes met hers. She knew he would stop at nothing to get what was his. He was that sort of man. Lord and Lady Loftus were going through the niceties of introductions. They were such dear friends. Course you do. This is his brother. Colonel Mandland. War hero! Made us all proud in the Valley. Colonel, Lady Rosalyn tells us when to sit down and when to stand up. A prime filly. Put her in my stable! This time was different. He was laughing—at her.
If he thought he could toy with her, he was wrong. She had rank in this room. Tightening her hold on the leather folder, she dared to speak up. He glanced at his wife, who already knew some of the story and hovered worriedly nearby.
My wife has always warned me to not take advantage of your good humor. You know I admire you. His forward comments grated her nerves to no end. Her most reassuring smile plastered on her face, she started for the door. Rosalyn pulled up short, a beat away from running into his chest. She attempted to sidestep him. He followed, either because he was unafraid of challenging her in public or because he possessed the manners of a bull. She gripped the leather folder with both hands.
You are attempting to steal my house from me. I bought the house in good faith from your cousin, who owned it. She had to look up to challenge him. How do we know this deed is not a forgery? For a second, his brow darkened, and his mouth opened and shut as if words failed him. His brother cautioned. Or at least, in the way you mean it? Any more than I am accepting your taking my house. He sounds like a schoolchild. A child? But instead of bluster and outrage, a deadly calm enveloped Colonel Mandland, his expression so grim, his manner so tense, that her knees began to tremble.
Perhaps she had gone too far. The colonel raised a hand, effectively cutting off any other words that might be said.
She has in her possession a deed proving her cousin, Lord Woodford, sold Maiden Hill and all of its furnishings to me. Anger and humiliation made speech difficult. The same code of honor that had guided her father now led her. She would not lie. My cousin George sold the house. Maiden Hill has been her home since her marriage.
We need you! After years of being alone, the people in the Valley had become her family. I want to live there. Certainly, he would champion her.
His lordship walked over to the window, where the light was better, and took the deed out. Lives just beyond the way. Should be here in a thrice. Shellsworth will know what to do. Her stomach had suddenly tied up in knots. Her eyes widened as if she had been struck by a sudden, enlightening thought. Lady Loftus ignored her. Maiden Hill is such a lovely estate for a family. Rosalyn wondered if her dear friend was abandoning her to Cornwall. The colonel frowned at having his attention diverted from Lord Loftus, who now moved his lips as he attempted to read over sections of the deed.
You know what a matchmaker Val is, my lady. Rosalyn felt a headache forming behind her eyes. Any woman who would consider marrying such a boorish brute as Colonel Mandland had to be either desperate or so old and haggard no one else would want her… Her evil thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of Mr. Shellsworth minced his way into the room. He was a thin, petite man with fastidious manners. Rosalyn could easily picture him in the powdered wig, lace, and heeled shoes of days of yore.
Since that was not the fashion, he doted on wearing bright colors, as seen in his bright yellow waistcoat and spruce green jacket and trousers. He liked the starched points of his shirt collar to brush his cheeks. When Rosalyn first moved to Maiden Hill, Mr. Rosalyn had been relieved. She could barely abide his pretentiousness, and she was not alone. He was not well liked in the Valley. Full of his self-importance, Mr.
Shellsworth practically clicked his heels as he presented himself. He did not acknowledge Reverend Mandland or his brother. They were obviously beneath his notice. Shellsworth said. He and Lord Loftus often hunted together. Lord Loftus held out the deed with distaste. He was not pleased. Rosalyn braced herself. A show of his temper would work in her favor, but his brother touched him lightly on the arm, a signal for patience. Shellsworth is considering the deed, may I have a private moment with you?
Rosalyn ignored their whisperings and concentrated on Mr. Not as well written as I would have done, but legal in every respect. Lord Woodford had the power to sell Maiden Hill.
It was not entailed. Rosalyn was glad she had never had any inclination toward such a supercilious man. Even his hands were small… with stubby fingers. A shiver went through her. But the worst part was, she was going to have to admit defeat to Colonel Mandland, a person she disliked more than the lawyer. Shellsworth hopped to his feet. Rosalyn bit back a whimper. She hated losing control of those papers. The moment she was alone with Lady Loftus, she collapsed on the settee.
The tray of hot toddies was close by, tempting her to drown her sorrows. One that will make everyone happy. Everything will be fine. He was tired and ready to be done with it all. His lordship led them into a study lined with prints of prized hounds and horses. In one corner, there was even a stuffed hunt hound. Loftus noticed Colin looking at it. Best hunt dog I ever had. Smarter than the fox. Every time.
Here, sit down. The smug fop of a lawyer was the first to take his seat. At last, he had what was his. He settled in a chair his brother had pulled up for him. Loftus propped his elbow on top of his desk. Colin was fairly certain little work was ever performed in this room. He had his deed. It was all he wanted. The rest were mere formalities. We do not suit. I deeply appreciate your help in seeing this deed returned to me.
However, with all due respect, I must leave now. With your permission, my lord? He looked to Matt. He may be the youngest, but he has always been stubborn. Colin choked on a response. Loftus slapped his hand on his desk. The two of you marry and everyone is happy. Should be easy for a handsome buck like you. All her parts in the right places. Oh, I admit she has to have her lead but, again, you should be able to bring her to heel. He took a backward step toward the door. He was not going to be bullied into marrying Lady Rosalyn.
He opened the door. He looked to Colin. Everyone knew he would choose the winner. He slammed both hands on the desk. We hunt together.