Wick’s expression was solemn. “It seems he cannot fathom how a girl like you could be friends with me.”
A girl like you.The words branded on Vi’s brain, releasing sizzling reminders of the other things Carlisle had said about her.You’re no good… You can’t spell propriety let alone put it into practice…
A terrible suspicion arose. Had Carlisle kissed herto make a point? To prove that she was naught but an improper hoyden—and not good enough to be friends with his brother? Anger and humiliation quivered through her.
“I told him to mind his own business, of course,” Wick said.
At least she had Wick’s loyalty. She managed a smile. “Thank you.”
“What are friends for?” he said with a wink.
As the music soared to new heights, the crowd tittering with excitement, she shoved her tumultuous emotions into a box and slapped on the lid. What did she care what Lord High And Mighty thought of her? So what if he judged her and found her lacking? It wouldn’t be the first time someone did so and likely not the last.
Pull yourself up by your slipper laces.She squared her shoulders. If Carlisle dared to approach her again, she would tell him in no uncertain terms what she thought of him and his blasted tactics. She might even plant him a facer for good measure.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” a voice announced from behind the curtain. “May I present... Mr. Cedric Burns and Miss Josephine Ashe!”
Determined to put Carlisle out of her mind, Vi sat forward in her seat. The red curtains parted, revealing a flaxen-haired duo juggling brightly colored balls back and forth. Handsome and wiry, Cedric Burns’ smile was a flash of white in his tanned face. Flames of red and orange sequins glittered on his black waistcoat. His partner, the petite Miss Ashe, wore a matching vest over a tailored blouse and black skirts. The two circled each other on the stage, balls arcing between them.
From off stage, an assistant began tossing more balls at Burns, and without missing a beat, he incorporated them into the colorful flow until Vi counted a dozen balls being kept afloat between the jugglers. Excitement buoyed her spirits, and when the set ended, she applauded enthusiastically with the rest of the audience.
The pair took their bows. Turning to his partner, Burns said in a loud stage whisper, “What shall we do next, my dear?”
“I don’t know.” Ashe tapped a finger against her pointed chin, her light eyes inviting the audience to join in the repartee. “Does anyone have a suggestion?”
“Play with fire!” Parnell’s voice came from behind Violet.
“Fire, fire,” the crowd began to chant.
“Heavens, this is a raucous bunch, isn’t it?” Emma muttered.
Violet didn’t respond; she was too busy stomping her feet with everyone else. The next minute, an assistant appeared on stage, with a flaming taper in one hand and a bucket of unlit torches in the other. He lit them one by one, tossing them alternately to Burns and Ashe, the audience cheering as the performers each maintained fiery, ever growing circles in the air. Then, with skill so seamless it appeared to be magic, the pair began exchanging the flaming torches, their independent circles melding into one blazing loop.
When the act was over, Vi hooted and clapped wildly.
Burns bowed and made a flourish with his arm. “My partner, Miss Josephine Ashe!”
Ashe came forward, about to curtsy—when a white Arabian seemed to come out of nowhere, soaring into the ring in front of the stage, obscuring the jugglers. Vi gasped along with the rest of the crowd at the fantastical sight: the snow-white horse flew around the circle, a raven-haired lady standing on its back.
Madame Monique!
Clad in a white dancer’s costume with a fitted bodice and short draped skirt, the acrobat embodied elegance. She lifted a leg, bending the pink-stockinged limb behind her with graceful ease as the horse galloped on. The audience went wild, leaping to their feet, Vi along with them. Breathlessly, she watched her idol perform one trick after another in the saddle. Madame Monique twirled on her toes, rode backward, even did a flip in the air. During the finale, Violet’s hands clutched in front of her as Monique and her mount sailed through a fiery ring.
Deafening cheers erupted.
“She’s incredible, isn’t she?” Vi shouted happily to Wick.
“Indeed.” There was an odd note in his voice, his gaze fixed on the regally bowing acrobat.
After the final round of applause, the curtain closed, and guests departed en masse for afternoon refreshments back at the house. Standing behind Wick, who was waiting politely for the aisle to clear, Vi couldn’t resist looking for Carlisle; he was nowhere to be seen.
Good riddance, she told herself.Now stop acting like a feather wit.
Aloud, she said, “Madame Monique was smashing, wasn’t she?”
Wick turned. “She certainly knows how to give a good performance.”
“I do hope we’ll get an opportunity to meet her. I have so many questions I want to ask. Perhaps Gabby could arrange it…” Vi trailed off, staring at her friend. “Wick? Are you all right?”
