"I don't even know where he is or what he looks like," Miss Cullpepper muttered under her breath. Her breathing had picked up again.
"Remember, ocean waves." Mira leaned forward and murmured into her ears.
Miss Cullpepper grabbed her hand and squeezed it.
Then the music began.
Even though Lady Randolph chattered on and on throughout the entire first act, Mira was entranced. She'd never heard such glorious music in her life. The lead soprano, Angelica Catalani, sang with a crystal-clear voice, hitting all the high notes in the right places.
"Like an angel," Mira breathed. "That's what heaven must sound like."
Lady Randolph sniffed. "Balderdash. She's no angel, she's a hussy. That woman sings only for him. Shameless, the way she flirts with him on the open stage."
"Who does she mean?" Miss Cullpepper turned to ask Mira in a whisper.
"I really wouldn't know, miss." Mira didn't care either. All she knew was that this was glorious, and she just wanted to listen to the music. She could hardly remember the last time she had felt so happy.
Sometime later, Miss Cullpepper leaned back and gasped, "Mira."
She got out of her chair abruptly, and before Mira could react, Miss Cullpepper stumbled and fell backwards between the chairs with a resounding crash. It was so loud that the lead tenor, who was on his knees in front of the lady he was wooing, looked up at her, startled.
Mira jumped out of her chair, knocking it over with another resounding crash. She whipped out the vinaigrette and tripped over the chair as she tried to reach Miss Cullpepper on the floor.
"For heaven's sake, if you have to faint, do it discreetly." Lady Randolph continued fanning herself as if nothing was wrong, a painful smile plastered on her face.
Mira adjusted her head on the floor, then summoned a footman.
After a while, Miss Cullpepper regained consciousness. "I'm fine," she murmured, "just let me stay here for a while. The high balcony makes me dizzy, and there is not enough air."
"Stop this commotion at once and sit down," Lady Randolph hissed, pulling at Mira's skirt.
"But, my lady, Miss Cullpepper—"
Lady Randolph grabbed Mira's wrist and pushed her into Miss Cullpepper's seat.
"Sit here quietly, lift your chin and smile as if nothing has happened," Lady Randolph snapped. "The whole house is watching."
With a sick feeling in her stomach, Mira realised she was right.
From Miss Cullpepper's seat, Mira could see not only the entire stage and auditorium, but all the boxes as well. But that meant that everyone could see her, in turn. It was like being exhibited in a shop window on Bond Street. Several hundred lorgnettes were fixed on her. There were whispers.
Whatever was happening in her box was clearly more interesting than what was happening on stage.
Heat shot through her entire body, and she wanted nothing more than to jump up and run away, but Lady Randolph's claw had pinned her to her seat.
Mira raised her free hand in greeting.
Lady Randolph groaned. "Now the girl goes on behaving like the Queen. Ignore them all and look neither left nor right, just at the stage. Do you hear me?"
"Yes, my lady."
Mira forgot all the faces and concentrated on the music. But then, when the soprano sang a hauntingly wistful song about her lost love, of past times that had disappeared like a wisp, together with his promise made by deceptive lips with such aching sadness and yearning, it pierced her soul.
She was oblivious to the entire house watching her and how irresistibly fragile and enchanting she appeared as she leaned across the balustrade. A curl of dark hair escaped against her delicate swan-like neck, and tears streamed down her cheeks.
Theton, unaccustomed to such honest and innocent displays of emotion, was enraptured.
By the intermission,Miss Cullpepper was feeling better.
