“Thea, there are notes in my nightstand drawer—”
She towered over me, almost glaring. “Don’t. You’re going to personally burn them after this is over, and I’m going to watch you and scold you for being so foolish.”
A stranger might have thought she was angry. But I saw the flare of panic in her eyes. My throat tightened. “I’m just telling you where they are.”
She held my gaze, looking away only when her eyes glazed with tears. She put her arms around me, and I clung to her for a moment.
Then she firmly set me away. “You are going to kick Peacock arse. You’d damn well better because you’re the closest thing to a sister—” She broke off, her voice cracking and her face growing red.
I squeezed her hands. “Noted. Commencing arse kicking. I promise.”
She nodded, swallowing hard and blinking. She lifted her chin. “Good.”
I glanced at Raymond, who was watching us somberly. Thea followed my gaze, then drew Dietrich to the side. Heads bent together, they were soon involved in an intense discussion about their strategy for the performance. It was kind of them to give us some privacy.
I walked over to Raymond. “Thank you. I wouldn’t have been able to do this without you.”
He waved his hand dismissively. “Save it for those notes.”
I stared up into his mist-colored eyes. Dietrich’s eyes could penetrate my soul, but Raymond’s were guardians to a world of secrets. He’d been my friend for years. He’d complained bitterly about how I hadn’t confided in him, and yet there was so much I didn’t know about him.
And suddenly, I wanted to know. I wanted more time to discover him.
He must have read it on my face for he crushed me to him. I wrapped my arms around his slender, muscled frame, my throat too tight to speak.
He lowered his head until his lips were next to my ear. “You’re going to be here tomorrow. And so am I. Because you’re going to need me, and I said I’m in. I meant it. I’ll be here. With you.” He pressed a gentle, warm kiss to my jaw, just in front of my ear. “So go. Be the hero of my story, all right?”
I nodded against his shoulder.
Then, summoning up the heroic words he always used to described me when I was shifting, I stepped away and mustered a smile.
He gave me an approving nod, but there were storm clouds in his eyes.
We walked to Thea and Dietrich who were standing by the office door. She gave the two of us a look I couldn’t quite decipher. I wasn’t sure I wanted to.
Then she opened the office door. “Raymond and I should go downstairs and watch for Mistress Davies.” She shot me and Dietrich a meaningful glance. “Don’t be too far behind.”
Raymond followed her out, intentionally shutting the door behind him.
I didn’t deserve such good friends.
Dietrich walked to his desk and slid open the middle drawer. He pulled out his sister’s chain.
Wordlessly, he fastened it around my neck.
“This is the last time I’m giving this to you,” he finally said.
That gave me a moment’s pause. But I hid it quickly. The chain had belonged to a beloved sister. To him, it was priceless. I couldn’t expect him to loan it to me all the time. “I understand.”
His fingers brushed my neck, sending sweet shivers down my shoulders and spine. “No, I don’t think you do. This is the last time…because I’m not taking it back. I want you to keep it.”
I couldn’t speak. I could barely think. Nobody had ever…Oh my god. Other than Thea’s declaration of sisterhood, I didn’t have a single person in the world that acknowledged me as family. No heirlooms, no evidence at all that I had a history. That I came from somewhere. That I belonged to anyone.
My fingers fluttered up to touch the chain. Trembling, I traced the cool metal until my hand brushed his. He took my fingers and held them to his lips and then cradled them against his cheek.
Tears blurred my vision. I shouldn’t accept such a gift. Shouldn’t let him do it. It was his dearest possession. He shouldn’t have offered it to me.
“Don’t say no,” he whispered. Such naked vulnerability in his eyes.
Such hope.
And I realized—he had no one, either. Not really. The one piece of family he had left had rejected him, at least for now.
Gently, I pulled his head down and kissed his beautiful lips. Thank you.
His fingers curled lightly to cup my head. He deepened the kiss. Then his arms slipped around me, and we held each other as tightly as we could.
Come back to me, Gia. Promise.
“I promise,” I said, the words thick in my throat. “Even if I have to haunt the theater to do it. We need a new theater ghost anyway. I’ll camp out here in one of your chairs and read all your books.”
I wasn’t sure how he’d take my dark humor. But he just rubbed my back and pressed a kiss against my hair.
“Tidy my desk while you’re at it. I’m awful at paperwork.”
I smiled against his suit coat. “Ghostly office clerk—will work for books.”
He drew back, his eyes fierce. “Better idea. Skip the ‘ghostly’ part entirely.”
“An excellent plan,” I whispered.
One more searing, achingly sweet kiss. Then he stepped back and held out his hand. I took it, and he led me downstairs, not letting go until we reached the corridor with the dressing rooms.
At the far end of that hall was the stage entrance to the theater. Raymond and Thea were waiting for us. We’d barely reached them when Nadine exited her dressing room and headed toward us.
“Claire, darling.” She held out her hands to me. “Are you ready to go?”
I clasped them in greeting. “As soon as Mistress Davies is here.”
Her face was pale. She hadn’t put on her stage makeup yet, but I wondered if even that would be able to hide the circles under her eyes. She greeted my trio of friends, then turned back to me. “Thank you for agreeing to stay the night with Mistress Davies.”
I smiled grimly. “I promised I wouldn’t be anywhere near you tonight.”
“You’re a good girl.” She looked like she’d start crying any moment.
Thea glanced out the small window next to the stage door. “Mistress Davies’ carriage is here.”
“Walk me out?” I asked Nadine.
“Of course.”
Arm in arm, we passed the Royal Guard stationed at the stage door. Lucy’s carriage was pulled alongside the stone curb of the alley. When we reached it, Lucy peered out at us. I gave her a slight nod.
Nadine pulled me close. I could feel her trembling.
“My beautiful girl. I hope you know how dearly I love you.”
I’d managed to say goodbye to my closest friends without crying. But I hadn’t expected it to be so difficult with Nadine. I clung to her. Then I pulled away and studied her pallid face. “Tell me. I need to know—are you…?”
Tears filled her brown eyes. “Does it matter? Would I love you any more than I already do?”
I flung my arms around her, letting the tears come. “No, it doesn’t matter. I adore you. Forever.”
“And I, you, my child. Never forget that. No matter what.”
Did I imagine the slight emphasis on my?
The carriage door opened, and we stepped back from each other, wiping the tears away. Lucy descended, aided by her driver.
“Dame Fairchild,” she said, holding out her hand to Nadine. “It’s a pleasure to see you again. I’m looking forward to my visit with Miss Mellor this evening.”
“Thank you for inviting her.”
“My pleasure.” She paused, as if just thinking of something. “Since you’re here, I’d like to get an update on Miss Birdwell if you please. And her brothers and sisters gave me some messages to pass on to her.”
Nadine hesitated. I held my breath.
“I would love to, Mistress Davies, but our call is quite soon. I don’t have much time.”
“I underst
and. It won’t take but a few minutes. Would you care to join me in the carriage? It’s better to speak in a more confidential setting than the alley.”
Another hesitation. But she was too well mannered to decline. We’d been counting on that. The lines of her frown smoothed out, and she smiled. “Of course. For a few minutes, mind you.”
“Thank you.”
The driver assisted us into the carriage. I sat by the window closest to the stage door. Thea watched from the stage door window.
Nadine sat next to me, and Lucy settled across from her on the edge of the leather seat. She leaned forward and took Nadine’s hands in her own. “Now tell me about Miss Birdwell.”
If Nadine was put off by Lucy’s forward behavior, she was too gracious to show it. She started to speak, but a burst of power surged from Lucy into her. She looked startled for a moment. Another flare of magic, and she slumped, unconscious beside me.
Lucy heaved a sigh. “All right. She’ll be out until we reach my home. I hope you and Dietrich and your friends know what you’re doing.”
“Thank you, Auntie Lu. More than I can ever say.”
She looked disapproving, but acknowledged me with a small nod. “I’m putting her up in the guest room. I’ll make sure she doesn’t leave, but I refuse to treat her as a prisoner.”
“No, of course not. We would never expect that from you. Just don’t let her leave, whatever you do.”
“I promise.”
Dietrich, we’re ready.
I shifted seats so that I was sitting next to Lucy and could see the sleeping Nadine. Dietrich emerged through the stage door and stood outside the carriage, staring up at me as I leaned back against the seat. I didn’t think the rozzer could see me from that angle.
I studied Nadine again, then formed my not-Nadine image. I adjusted it so that my hairstyle and clothing would match how she appeared at the moment.
I nodded at Dietrich. He sent a mental message to Thea, and in seconds, I felt the flood of her power and Raymond’s magical words crashing over me. I stared into Dietrich’s eyes and let the change rip through me.
When the power faded, and I breathed again on my own, I heard Lucy’s small gasp next to me.
“Incredible. I’ve never seen anything like that. I mean, I knew, from Dietrich. But to see it myself…”
I flashed her a beautiful Nadine smile. “Thank you. For everything.” My voice faltered.
She clasped my hand. “Dietrich cares deeply for you. Be safe tonight.”
I smiled again, not sure what to say. I opened the carriage door, and Dietrich helped me step down.
“Thank you, Presul Wolff.”
“Not at all, Dame Fairchild.” He bowed to me and then nodded to Lucy.
The carriage pulled away, and I watched it for a moment, fearing I would break down and sob.
Courage, cariad.
I straightened my shoulders and stood tall, wrapping Nadine’s dignity around myself. “What time is it, Presul Wolff?”
He checked his pocket watch. “Call is in ten minutes.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Nadine had a way of entering a room with the dignity of an aristocrat and the gentle humility of a beloved teacher. I drew on those qualities now as I walked into her lavishly decorated dressing room. It held warm memories of many a performance night spent here helping Nadine dress and do her makeup. The room was as much an extension of Nadine’s personality as her suite, and I felt closer to her just walking through the door.
Only the very top actors and actresses—ones who received the title of “Sir” or “Dame” from the Empress—received fancy dressing rooms. Nadine’s had delicate cabbage rose wallpaper hand-painted by our best scene painter in shades of pinks and peach. The chairs were upholstered in rose colored silk, and a matching sofa lined the wall opposite her gilded dressing table with its brightly lit mirror.
The luxury wasn’t given to her only because she was talented and popular. Part of her job was to reward wealthy patrons for their support of the theater by letting them visit her while she was preparing for a show or after the show. Her protector, the Viscount Deverey, also would visit her here, and he demanded their privacy.
Thankfully, I didn’t have to worry about him tonight. He was still at the family’s estate in the country with his wife and children and hadn’t been to Aldwych in several weeks.
Agnes Lampeter, the seamstress who was friends with Wallace Shelby, was in the room setting out my costumes. “Good evening, Dame Fairchild,” she said, barely glancing up from her work.
“Where is Emmaline?” I said, sinking onto the vanity bench in front of the dressing table. Emmaline was Nadine’s usual dresser—rather like an actress’s ladies maid to help her dress and do her hair and makeup.
“Unfortunately, she’s ill this evening. I’ll be assisting you tonight.”
“I’m so sorry to hear she’s feeling poorly. I will have to check in on her tomorrow.” I knew that was what Nadine would do.
Miss Lampeter didn’t respond immediately. She seemed to be studying the costumes closely. Then, offhandedly, “I’m sure she would appreciate that.”
“Is there a problem?” I didn’t like how she was inspecting the costumes.
“There have been some alterations, additions to your costumes. Metal pieces inserted into your gloves and I swear your boots now weigh half a pound each. The stitching is very inferior. I wasn’t aware the costume department had made changes to the design.”
How to explain the adjustments I’d made? “The stunt department. They asked for some alterations to make it safer for me to climb about on the ship set. I thought it was an excellent project for an apprentice.”
She accepted the explanation without further comment, but she radiated disapproval. Sometimes the departments were rather territorial, and I had a feeling someone in Stunts was going to get a big scolding later.
I took the pins out of my hair and let it fall around my waist. Miss Lampeter helped me undress, and I wrapped myself in a light satin dressing gown.
She was brushing my hair when someone knocked on the door. She went to open it, and I saw the tall form of our theater manager. He removed a top hat from his graying blond hair and bowed to me from the doorway.
“Master Fenrey!” I started to rise, but he waved me off.
“No, don’t get up.” He nodded at Miss Lampeter. “Could you give us a few minutes, please?”
She curtseyed to him. “Of course, sir.” Then, to me, “I will fetch your lemon water for you.”
“Thank you.”
Every star seemed to have certain quirks and routines for preparing to take the stage. One of Nadine’s most well-known was a glass of spring water with a wedge of lemon squeezed into it. Nadine was anything but a diva, but when it came to her lemon water, it had to be the right temperature and just the right amount of lemon juice. I’d seen her kindly, but firmly, send back an incorrect concoction and request an improvement. Everyone loved her, and so it was a matter of artistic honor to make sure the lemon water was perfect.
After giving me an odd little smirk, Miss Lampeter shut the door behind her, leaving me alone with Master Fenrey. I tried not to fidget, but suddenly I felt a little less like Nadine Fairchild and a lot more like the errant apprentice I really was.
He set his hat on a chair near the door and dropped to one knee beside me. “My dear, how are you?”
I was suddenly very conscious about wearing only a dressing gown in front of the theater manager. I clutched it a little tighter around my neck. “As—as well as can be expected, I suppose.”
“I’m wretched. Sick about the entire thing.” He put his arm around me. His still-bright blue eyes were filled with barely repressed anguish. “I wish I was at liberty to put a stop to it. I should have fought the Guild and refused to have anything to do with this ridiculous scheme.”
My borrowed soul’s instincts took over. “And what would the theater do without you if you had rebelled and they fire
d you?”
“Carry on with a new manager. I’m not indispensable.” There was an undercurrent of self-loathing in his words, as if he considered his decision to go along with the investigators and the Guild a weakness of character.
I hated to see him blame himself. “Nonsense. You are the heart and soul of this theater. Look at us—we’re well paid, and we have fine lodgings. And the apprentices are healthy and well-fed. The productions are the best in the empire. And that’s because of you. Because you are indispensable.”
It was downright weird to be talking to Master Fenrey that way, but it seemed to agree with my mental shift image for Nadine, so I forced aside my discomfort. Nadine was always encouraging.
He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them to me again. “You always know just what to say to me,” he murmured, leaning toward me.
What the hell?
Calm down. I was just an apprentice. Overreacting, right? What did I know about how Guild members treated each other away from us? Even so, I scooted off the bench to the other side and stood. “I’m glad.”
He stood too, frowning slightly. “Did you tell Deverey?”
“Of course not.” I gave a Nadine-esque shrug. “What could he do? Not even he can overrule an order from the Empress. She wants this over and done. It’s easier for everyone to keep him in the dark.”
I was fairly sure that this would be Nadine’s line of reasoning.
He brushed past the vanity bench and wrapped me in a hug, pressing me against his chest. “My darling, if I lose you…”
Stiffly, I leaned against him, blinking against the superfine wool of his coat. The truth trickled down over me, rather like a raw egg cracked on my head.
Oh. My. God.
Nadine—and Master Fenrey!
Shit.
Rust and grease and shit.
Don’t panic. Stay in character. I was a vicimorph. I could do this.
But really—Master Fenrey? He was—was…
Old!
Not in an ugly way, I supposed, but not as dashing as Sir Harrington, either.
My maybe-mother, and my theater manager?
Chains of Silver: a YA Theater Steampunk Novel (Alchemy Empire Book 1) Page 35
