Leaning away from the carriage lamplight, Hallie watched him wait at the door of the tall narrow house. He looked so handsome, in the silk high hat, and so impressive, cloaked in black except for the stark collar of his white dress shirt, which caught the light from the narrow windows. Though his face was shadowed, she could picture every fine, masculine feature, and she squirmed, her thoughts making her uneasy and more nervous than she already was.
Hallie stared at the white lace of her gloves. They made her hands look softer and more pink—at least Maddie had said so when she had helped button her into the white lace gown. Pushing aside the deep rose velvet of her cloak, she fingered the silk lace. It shimmered in the soft carriage light, and she knew this wasn’t a dream. She was really here, dressed like a princess and on her way to her first play, and she was with Kit, her husband.
Her stomach fluttered. She wasn’t sure if this was good or bad. Her truce with him was new and tenuous. She had no idea what he expected of her. Furthermore, she didn’t know what she expected of herself. Was she smart for making the best of her situation, or was she weak for giving in to Kit, whom she loved so hopelessly?
The carriage door opened and the wind blew a spicy, exotic fragrance into the vehicle’s already tight interior. A woman was lifted through the door and she sat right across from her. Her midnight-blue silk skirts and matching cloak took up almost the entire carriage seat.
Lee poked his red-bearded head inside and smiled a hello. “Hallie, this is Miss Sabine Dolan.” Lee smiled at the woman. “This is Kit’s wife, Mrs. Howland.”
His words sent Hallie’s head reeling. The only other time she’d been called Mrs. Howland was by her husband the night they were married, and somehow, hearing it again made Hallie feel strange and even more jittery, until she sensed the woman’s penetrating gaze.
Hallie really looked at Sabine Dolan. Her features were perfect. She had flawless white skin and eyes the exact shade of her dress, but it was her hair that rang a warning in Hallie. It was red, not the lively orange red of Maddie’s, but a deep, dark mahogany red, the same color as her Norwegiankusine, Anja, the one who used to pinch her. Hallie decided she was being silly, associating her mean, pinching cousin with this woman just because they had the same hair color. Then Hallie caught the woman’s frosty smile, and she changed her mind.
Suddenly, Kit sat down beside her and the carriage took off, rocking its way through the narrow, hilly streets. Sabine dominated the conversation, just like she dominated the carriage seat and the men’s attention. She made Hallie feel inadequate, so she sat quietly, listening to Sabine’s flirting and trying not to consider her evening ruined. Kit reached over and threaded his hand through hers. When she looked up, he winked, and Hallie no longer gave a fig about Sabine or her chatter.
As they neared the theater, the street was thick with other playgoers. They inched their way forward, and once in front of the theater, Kit opened the door. He and Lee got out to help the women down. The crowd at the entrance milled about, filling the night air with noise and laughter. Kit pulled her to his side while he spoke to Duncan who was driving the rig, and then they joined Lee and Sabine as they made their way inside. Tobacco smoke and musky sweat laced with strong perfume hung as densely as fog in the air of the foyer. Hallie’s eyes teared in reaction.
Kit’s hand held her close to his side as they moved with the crowd. Finally, the space widened and Kit led her into an open section cordoned off with gold-braided rope. There were no grubby, sweaty miners here, only the well-dressed members of the city’s burgeoning affluent class. Kit helped her off with her cloak and handed them, along with his hat and gloves, to a waiting attendant.
The man then assisted Lee, and when Sabine removed her flowing cloak, Hallie had to stifle her shocked gasp. The woman’s dress had no bodice, only a lacy ruffle that barely lapped over her nipples and then plunged in a deep vee ending just above her tightly cinched waist. At least Hallie assumed it was cinched; even Liv’s waist wasn’t that small. Then she stared, trying to figure out what type of corset Sabine wore beneath so scant a dress.
“Put your eyes back in your head, sweet. You’ll only give her the reaction she wants,” Kit said, a smile lilting through his voice.
Hallie turned away from Sabine and moved closer to Kit. “What do you suppose she’s wearing underneath?” she whispered.
Kit laughed out loud and then leaned down to her. “Skin, lots of skin.”
Another attendant passed by, this one carrying a tray filled with glasses. Kit helped himself to two, handing one to her. She eyed the pale, bubbling liquid as if it were witches’ brew.
“It’s champagne,” Kit explained, before he sipped his own glass, watching her over its brim.
Hallie slowly brought the glass near her lips. The bubbles sprinkled her nose, and it smelled... odd, dry yet tart. Then she tasted it and her face puckered. “It’s like rotten cider that’s been watered down.”
Kit choked on his drink. He took the glass from her hand and set it and his own on a ledge. He took her arm again. “A wife with simple tastes. What more could a man ask for?’’
Simple?“Wait. I’ve changed my mind.” She plucked the glass off the ledge and downed the champagne in one huge gulp. She held out the glass. “More, please.”
“I thought you didn’t like it.” He scrutinized her.
“It grows on you,” she replied.
Kit looked around. “I don’t see him anywhere. You’ve had enough anyway, for your first taste.”
The waiter came from Hallie’s direction. “Oh look! I was just thinking about you,” she said, smiling sweetly at the man while she took two glasses off his tray and guzzled them down. She hardly had time to set the glasses back on the puzzled man’s tray when Kit pulled her down the carpeted corridor.
Hallie felt delightfully light. She glanced at her surroundings, eyeing the tiered chandeliers and the dance of their flickering candles. Etched glass wall sconces lined the stairway and gilt mirrors hung from the richly flocked wallpaper. She tried to see her reflection in the mirrors, but there wasn’t time to focus and keep up with Kit’s long stride.
“Where are we going?” she asked, swallowing a burp that would rival Liv’s.
“To the box,” Kit said, his tone brooking no argument.
“Oh. That’s nice.”
He pulled her through a draped doorway, and he paused, apparently letting his eyes become accustomed to the dim theater. Lee and Sabine were seated on the right, in the rear chairs. Kit pulled her around and pushed her into one of the front chairs. She should have been irritated at Kit’s manhandling, but she didn’t really mind; right now, she liked everyone.
Sabine tittered.
Well, Hallie thought, not everyone. She blinked and looked around the cavernous room. The stage was draped with the same rich material that secluded the box. The high ceiling rose another two stories above them, and the area below the elevated stage was jammed with people, sitting or standing wherever there was a small space. Hallie weaved slightly and she felt that queasy vertigo feeling.
