by Vera Quinn
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The Red Slippers
Ruth A. Casie
Blurb
In service to Queen Marie of France, since she was a young girl Cosette Binet watched private ballet performances for the queen and was fascinated by the great Marie Camargo’s footwork and high leaps. Cosette studies to become a ballerina and earns a rare opportunity to audition for the Paris Opera Ballet’s corps de ballet where she meets and finds her soul mate, Avery the ballet director. Her first performance brings the audience to their feet, but when she is chosen for a principal part in another ballet, a fellow dancer has her doubting her ability and Avery’s devotion.
While searching for additional dancers for the corps de ballet, ballet master Avery Parsons DuBois watches Cosette dance and is captivated as she performs a grand jetè that soars further and higher than anyone he has ever seen. Mesmerized, he is drawn to the dancer and falls in love with her. He offers her a position in the ballet, but when she begins to doubt her ability and his love for her he must do something. He gives her red slippers and tells her they were Marie Camargo’s dance shoes, filled with magic.
Do the red slippers hold the magic that will make her a great ballerina and prove Avery’s love for her?
It would take magic for Cosette to believe in her abilities. It would take Avery to conjure up the spell.
Spring - Paris 1770
Madam Cosette Binet DuBois pulled the drape back and stood at the window of the dance studio. It was late afternoon as a gaggle of dancers flocked across Paris’ Rue de Montpensier to the Théâtre du Palais-Royal to prepare for the ballet’s opening. A smile touched her lips as she toyed with the tiny ruby slippers that dangled from a velvet ribbon tied around her neck. Fourteen years ago, she was one of those girls leaving for the theatre eager, anxious, and scared facing an opening night performance.
Her students needn’t worry. Like her predecessor, Madam Binet prepared her students.
“Did you have a good day?” Avery Parsons DuBois, the Director of the Paris Opera Ballet School, asked his wife from the doorway. “I’ll be with you in a few minutes. I have one or two things to finish before we leave.”
Cosette let the drape fall back into place and turned toward her husband.
“It was a particularly good day. If you need to finish paying bills, I can go ahead and you can meet me at the theatre.” She ran her hands down her skirt, chasing away the wrinkles, walked to the door, and stood in front of him. Her Avery. She’d fallen in love with him the first time he had spoken to her, had danced with her.
He converted the small room in the studio into a salon and demanded it be magnificent and lavish with tapestries, sculptures, bronzes, and paintings. He’d commissioned artisans to carve the wood paneling with gilded C and S scrolls. All the things they gained during her dance career elegantly filled the room. There was a small dining table, and comfortable chairs in intimate groups to encourage conversations. Avery included a chaise lounge for her to rest, so she’d not be far from the rehearsal hall or from him.
He pulled her into his arms.
“No, princess. The hand of the famous Cosette Binet will be on my arm as I escort her through the throng of her admirers. Everyone will envy me.” He kissed her forehead. “I won’t be long. I noticed Monique in the private rehearsal room. You are a task master driving her so hard.”
“Monique’s a talented student. I do not drive her. The girl demands it of herself.”
“Ah, and I know who Monique takes after.”
“I’ll remind her to go to the theatre and prepare for the performance. Unless you can use your latent druid powers and convince her she needs to leave for the theatre.”
“Even if I could. I wouldn’t squander it on a nervous student. I would—”
Cosette put her finger on his lips. “No need to say anything. I know what you would do.”
He held her close. “And what that be?”
Cosette tilted her head and stared at him. “Make all those papers go away so you can enjoy Monique’s first solo performance with me. The girl is quite accomplished, but I am disappointed. All these years I was sure you were a druid magician.”
“You thought I was a knight.”
“Like your ancestor Maximilian.” She let out a deep sigh. “We should take a trip to England and go to Fayne Manor. We haven’t been there in a long time.”
He stroked her hair. “What I would give to be the grand druid master and make you well.”
“You can’t fight all my battles. Some I have to do on my own.”
“When did you ever let me help you with any challenges?” He held her away and gazed into her eyes. “Oh, no, princess, don’t paint me with that brush. You, my dear, are a formidable woman and the world’s greatest ballerina. I am humbled by you.”
“You were my dance master and with your magic, you made me what I am. Go. Finish your papers.”
She stepped out of his arms and already missed his warmth.
“I’ll get my things and meet you.”
Cosette walked down the hall and entered the small studio where her student practiced the intricate combination of steps over and over. Her keen eye caught the flaw. So did Monique.
The dancer didn’t wait to complete the sequence. She stopped and stomped to the side of the room.
“This is easy for you,” Cosette said. “I have observed you do it fifty times and each time it is better. You put too much pressure on yourself. Enjoy the music, let the dance carry you across the stage. You are an excellent ballerina.”
The girl came to her.
“Madam Binet, what if I don’t do well?”
“Throughout your years in ballet school, you were tested, evaluated and critically judged. I’ll remind you that each time you were anxious, yet when the music started you danced without hesitation or errors. This performance is the same. I promise once you’re on stage, you will be wonderful.”
Her student stood next to her, wringing her hands. Cosette put her hand over Monique’s. The end of her solo highlighted the dancer’s extension and grace. Her arabesque was superb.
“Come with me.” They went into the salon where Cosette opened a cabinet and took out a pair of worn red slippers.
“Here, take these.” She handed Monique the slippers. “They belonged to the famous Maria Camargo and hold the secret to her dancing.”
Monique stared at the shoes and held them with care, with respect. She lifted her head. The wonder in her eyes made Cosette smile.
“Madam, these are yours.”
“Yes, they were mine. Now they are yours. Maria Camargo, the Prima Ballerina of Paris herself, wore them. They have never failed me. They won’t fail you.”
“Oh, Madam.” Monique threw her arms around her.
“Go. There is still time for you to warm up at the theatre.”
The girl stood and stared at her.
“Go.” Cosette nudged her toward the door.
“Thank you.”
Monique clutched the shoes to her chest and ran out of the room. Moments later, the outside door closed. Cosette glanced out the window as the young girl hurried across the road.
“Your student left.”
She turned to her husband. He had his hat and coat on and held her cloak.
“It’s nerves. She will be fine when the music starts.” Avery put her cloak around her shoulders. “Your paperwork is all done?”
“Yes. I’d rather not stay too long at the party afterwards. I thought a quiet dinner for two was in order.”
They left the studio and crossed the Place du Palais-Royal to the theatre. A small group already formed.
“Madam Binet,” someone shouted.
“It’s wonderful to see
you, Madam,” another called.
“There. With Monsieur DuBois.” A woman turned to her companion. “I told you Madam Binet would be here tonight. She’s never missed an opening.”
People parted, making way for Avery and her. Retired from dancing five years earlier, the crowd’s excitement still surprised and humbled her. She noted as many faces as possible and graciously accepted bouquets several people offered.
Avery opened the theatre door. She stopped and faced the spectators.
“Thank you all for your wishes and,” holding up the bouquets, “for the flowers.” She turned and entered the building.
Inside it surprised her to find the house staff lined up from the doorway, under the lofty dome to the grand staircase. As she passed, each bowed or curtsied. They all welcomed her back and wished her well.
“I could play your knight and sweep you off your feet and deliver you to your private box,” Avery said for her ears alone.
They stood before the first twelve steps that led to a landing where the next flight of stairs branched off in two opposite directions.
“No, I will walk. It will just take some time.” With a deep breath, she steeled herself for the ordeal.
Scarily thin, Cosette walked tall and hid the strain it took to climb the steps and make her way to her box. Once, she’d been able to run up the steps, dance with abandon, leap, and jump across the stage. Now navigating a simple flight of stairs challenged her.
Tired, she didn’t rest at the top, but held her head high and went on. Halfway down the hall, out of sight of everyone, Avery swooped her into his arms and took her the rest of the way to their box.
“You needn’t carry me.”
“I wouldn’t be your gallant knight if I didn’t.” He set her down in her chair.
The box had two rows/each with two seats. A small table with a decanter of wine and a pitcher of water sat to one side. A folded blanket hung on the back of an empty chair tucked into the far corner.
“It’s been so many years since I first entered this theatre,” she said more to herself.
“It seems like only yesterday,” Avery said.
“I remember when you danced with me. You searched for more people to fill the village scene.” The day was clear in her mind.
“Le devin du village, the Village Soothsayer by Rousseau. He staged the piece with more dancers than we had in the company. The queen asked for that ballet for a birthday celebration. I needed eight villagers for that one performance.”
“And all these years I thought you were clever, using that as a ruse to meet me.” She coyly smiled at him. “Again, you were late doing papers. I waited with ten other hopefuls to audition for you.
“I listened to the orchestra rehearsing in the next theatre and didn’t realize the others had left. When I did, I had the room to myself and danced so I wouldn’t be stiff. The music carried me away.”
“I didn’t have the heart to tell you.” For an instant, a hint of nostalgia stole into his expression. “I had already hired all the dancers I needed. I thought you were the clever one, dancing for me. You knew every step of the choreography, and you performed better than most in the corps de ballet. I had only seen one woman leap that high and gracefully, Marie Camargo. When the orchestra played the pas de deux, I had to dance with you.”
“It was a fairy tale.” She could still feel the magic of that day. “I did a series of glissades and cabrioles across the room and—”
“You danced right into my arms. We continued the duet until the end.”
“Somewhere in the middle of the music, I fell in love with you. Before you hired me. ‘Be at rehearsal in the morning,’” she said mimicking his deep voice then reverting to her own. “I was ecstatic. Not only because I would be with you, but I would perform for Madam Marie Camargo.”
“Not the queen.” He chuckled. “That didn’t surprise me once I knew you better. The Prima Ballerina was all you thought about.”
“The first time I observed Madam Camargo dance, I knew I had to be a ballerina. Those rare times she demonstrated to the corps de ballet was exciting. She always wore her red slippers.” Cosette let out a big yawn. “I’m content with the way things worked out.”
“Ah, her little red slippers. You always said Marie was your inspiration.” Avery grabbed the blanket from the back of the chair, tucked it around her legs, and kissed her forehead. “Get some rest. I must go backstage and make sure everything is organized.”
“Go. Go.” She waved him away.
“I’ll be with you before the curtain goes up.” He kissed her again and left.
She looked about the theatre. “It wasn’t so long ago...”
Fourteen Years Earlier
Cosette and eight other dancers had entered the practice room.
“Come in.” Claude Garnier, the dance instructor, had waved them in. “Don’t all stand against the wall behind everyone. Find a place among the others.”
The dancers spread out and made room for the new additions except for the first row. Cosette took space in the crowded back rows.
“No. That won’t do. You.” Claude gestured to her.
Surely, he didn’t mean her. She pointed to herself and stared at him.
“Yes, you. Come up here.” Claude leaned toward her. “What is your name?”
“Cosette. Cosette Binet.”
“Suzette, make room for Cosette Binet.”
“Nine. I thought they needed eight dancers,” one girl said.
“I’d like to welcome our new members. The corps de ballet is a special place. Avery and I want intelligent, versatile, ambitious, and hardworking dancers who can operate as a team. You are the backdrop to the soloists. You hold the performance together,” Claude said. “I demand you stay focused, pay attention to detail, and no divas. We have one week until the performance. We dance for the queen and Marie Camargo in honor of her birthday. We have been rehearsing for three weeks, so the new dancers have a great deal to learn. We will work in pairs. I will assign each a mentor.”
“It seems one dancer impressed Monsieur Dubois more than the others. The dance master expanded the corps de ballet. Then again, he could decide to let one of us go,” the person on the other side of Suzette said.
“They’re here to fill the empty spaces on the stage. We have nothing to worry about.” Suzette bent and fixed the ribbons on her dance shoes.
Cosette glanced around the studio. The eight other new dancers were smiling and in deep conversation with their mentor.
“Suzette, you will mentor Cosette.” Claude turned away. “Jacque, I have a change to the music.” Claude hurried to the pianist.
The other dancer glared at her.
Not surprised by the expression, she’d met plenty of people who enjoyed tormenting the new members of the group, Cosette resisted reacting. It would serve no purpose.
“Everyone.” She faced Claude. “We’ll start at the third bar of the coda. Ladies and gentlemen, I want clean footwork and high leaps. Those grand jetés are to be grand.”
The dancers moved back. Claude nodded to Jacques, who began to play. The first two pairs glided and leapt across the floor.
Cosette focused on the dance steps and listened to Claude’s instructions with care as each pair took their turn.
When she and Suzette were next, Cosette closed her eyes and let herself get lost in the music. Her eyes opened as Jacque finished the introduction. They began.
Suzette’s wide movements gave Cosette limited space to move. No matter, she trained at home in less space than here.
The years of practicing Madam Camargo’s dance technique made her steps crisp and precise. While unable to do them all, she mastered Madam’s leap, her grand jeté.
Cosette took a chassé, a small skip, into a deep plié, then sprang up high as if some great force lifted and carried her in the air. She landed softly, her knees bent, then ran off to the side like the others before her.
When she turned, Claude’s stoic face
was split in a wide grin.
Suzette led her to the back where they waited for their next instructions.
“You’re supposed to be part of the corps, not an individual dancer,” Suzette said loud enough for everyone to hear.
Cosette faced her. “I’m sorry. I thought you could keep up with me. I’ll remember your limitations going forward.”
Suzette gaped at her while the others sniggered.
Cosette knew better than to get drawn into Suzette’s game, but the cut couldn’t be ignored. It was difficult to remain quiet. Unfortunately, it was the way to avoid being the brunt of Suzette’s sarcasm for the rest of the rehearsals and the performance. She walked out of the rehearsal hall. A few moments away from the group would settle her nerves and give the others time to move on to something or someone else.
She walked down the hall. Avery rehearsed in the private practice room. She watched him. Each movement was precise, clean, and appeared effortless. His adagio was slow and graceful and fluid. He finished with a spinning double leap followed by chassés that traveled across the room and stopped in front of her. He gave her a deep bow.
“Did you have a good day?”
“That was magnificent,” she said. “I didn’t know you danced in this production.”
“It’s a command performance, at the request of the queen and Madam Camargo. Is your rehearsal over?” he asked.
“No. I just needed some air.” Now she felt like a sulking child, annoyed at herself for letting Suzette irritate her so. Divas had a certain way of behaving, even ones in training, and Suzette had all the markings. The bright spot was seeing Avery.
“Suzette?”
“How did you know?” Cosette was only half surprised.
“Suzette can be difficult, especially when she feels threatened.” He shook his head. “You better go back. Claude prefers his dancers to be on time. I’ll meet you after rehearsal.”
Her heart thumped wildly as she returned to the practice hall, eager to dance, but more eager for the day to be over.
