‘Some are calling for them to be banned,’ said Speckle. ‘One can’t tell who is a man and who is a woman, so I believe it has led to a few,’ he paused, considering his words. ‘Misunderstandings, in the past.’
Thea and Harriet both stared at him.
‘Jolly good,’ said Harriet, grabbing both their elbows. ‘In we go!’
The high, arched doorway loomed above them as they entered the cavernous space. Despite the fact that she experienced a good few spectacular buildings, the rotunda always made Thea catch her breath. She knew it was one hundred and fifty feet wide; the fact stuck in her head from the time she had spent listening to the architect at one of her last visits, but objectively the room was huge. Around the edge of the circular space were three, tiered galleries stacked on top of one another. In thelowest, private dining niches were filled with raucous revellers enjoying the fayre liberally provided for equally liberal pounds. The second tier held a viewing gallery, filled by costumed groups held back by the balustrades, occasionally shouting encouragement or obscenities at the dancers below. The third tier, with its tall, windowed arches was a mystery to Thea, she had never been up and could only guess at what went on in a more private space.
Towards the centre back stood a platform on which the large orchestra played. The velvety sounds filled the room and gave life to the dancers who strode, trotted, skipped and wheeled around the ample space. At the centre of the room stood a huge plinth, four columns at its corners holding up the domed roof. On the plinth was a massive fireplace, the heat the flames radiated welcome on Thea’s chilled skin as she made her way through the crowd.
She was just about to ask whether they would dance or eat first when a commotion began in the door behind them. They turned to find the crowd parting in alarm, a man moving at quite an unlikely velocity through them. Speckle twitched alert.
When the man neared them at quite alarming speed Thea saw that he had tiny wheels attached to his shoes. They propelled him across the smooth floor of the space, the look on his face suggesting faster than even he had imagined. Not only that, but he was trying to play the violin at the same time.
‘There are no brakes, are there?’ asked Harriet, as the man careered around, first to the left and then to the right, alarmed dancers scattering before him as he went. Thea and Speckle shook their heads in unison.
‘Uh oh, he’s headed towards…’ said Thea, but it was too late. The man’s arms flailed, and legs lifted and he careered into the huge mirror at the opposite side of the room, shattering it tosmithereens. The shards of it mixed with the pieces of his broken violin on the floor. And bits of himself, Thea noted.
‘I am perhaps required, Your Grace, Mrs Henry,’ Speckle said as he bowed to them both before jogging over to the casualty. A crowd gathered and peered at the scene, always pleased to have an exciting diversion, even if it were covered in blood.
As soon as it had been ascertained that the man was alive and would live to roll another day, the party returned to full swing. It wasn’t long before Harriet was off, dancing with a highwayman whose identity was fully concealed by a black scarf covering the head and neck under a tricorn hat and a satin eye mask. There was enough cleavage apparent for Thea to be exceptionally happy for Harriet and expected that Harriet was even more so for herself.
Around the central table, lit by candles hanging in glass globes, a domino with black and white costume and alternating mask approached her, stood back reverently and gave a deep bow before holding out its hand. She accepted and they danced, joining the semi-organised mass of bodies circling the fire.
While not always one for dancing, the freeness of it made her smile and she allowed herself to be swept along. Who was her anonymous friend? It had to be someone who could afford an outfit and a ticket, but whether a draper or a duke she could not know. Thankfully, whoever it was, was respectful and bowed deeply once more on the conclusion of the dance before slipping away into the crowd. Chuckling, Thea circled the room to find that Speckle had concluded his bandaging and had commandeered a dining niche with Harriet’s ‘Venus’ and the goddess Athena. Athena was draped in what appeared to be a sheet but artfully stitched into a Greek style with a wide, shining breastplate complete with ample breasts, a Corinthian helmet and a sash. A spear and round shield bearing coiled snakes leant on the wall behind her.
It was only when the server brought cold meats, pickles and bread that she realised Athena’s thank you came in the voice of her children’s tutor. She was quite pleased he couldn’t see her wide eyes behind her mask. ‘Good lord, you look fabulous Mr Fenwick,’ she exclaimed as she sat next to him. ‘I would never have known it was you!
Athena placed a hand on Thea’s arm. ‘I’d love to disagree with you, but don’t I?’ said Fenwick with uncharacteristic confidence. ‘Look at these boots!’ He pulled back the sheet and poked out a leg under the table, revealing a short leather boot with strapping that made its way all the way up to the top of his calf.
Thea snorted. ‘They suit you.’ She tucked into the fayre and the wine, becoming aware of how ravenous she was. As they chatted and ate, her eyes wandered back to the dance floor. Monks, sultans, nuns and Cossacks all flowed around the space together, but it was a pirate that caught her eye. A fitted, rich burgundy waistcoat contained a shirt of puffed sleeves and black breeches were finished with tall leather boots. A tricorn hat melded seamlessly with a gun-metal grey, full face mask with an eye patch painted over it. A leather belt held what looked like a real pistol, but the cutlass may have been a prop. The costume was striking, but that wasn’t all that caught Thea’s attention. There was something familiar about the gait – unusually graceful for a man, the poised, upright form and the way he glided with his partner, hand on her waist. As the dance ended the pirate bowed thanks and the two of them parted. Then he picked a pocket watch out from the waistcoat, flicked it open and ran a finger across the back.
Chapter 14
Time slowed around Thea. There was no mistaking it – she had seen and admired that gesture countless times over the years. She had almost reconciled herself to the fact that she may never see it again, but there it was, right in front of her on the floor of the rotunda.
What should she do? For now, it seemed like she couldn’t do much, as apparently her legs were made of jelly. All she could do was watch as the pirate moved to the side of the room, taking a glass of wine from a server and sipping as he gazed around the room. Asshegazed around the room, Thea corrected herself. Was she here with anyone? She didn’t seem to be searching, she simply leaned on one of the pillars of the dining arches with one leg tucked back and foot flat against the stone, perusing the dancers in the next reel.
As the music began to slow, Thea noticed one of the ladies in the dancing pairs look over towards Martha. She pointed at her, whispered something to her dance partner and giggled. Thea knew that she would be angling for an invitation for the nextdance. Looking like that, Martha would not be short of female partners.
Instinctively Thea rose and took the three steps down to the rotunda floor. She heard Harriet call her from the table but could only wave a hand dismissively as she rushed away, her head light with nerves and uncertainty. She had to get herself in the way of Martha before the other prospect did. The music was coming to an end, and the girl was curtseying to her current partner, but Thea was closer. As she approached the pirate, she gave what she hoped was a coy courtesy. The masks ensured that neither of them could see the others’ face. At least that was a blessing. She would have hated Martha to see the tears pricking her eyes, or the fear she knew they must have held. Anyway, she assumed that had Martha known it was her, she wouldn’t have stuck around for long.
The pirate pushed off the wall with her bent leg and approached. Thea marvelled at it. Had she not known Martha’s mannerisms she would have had no idea it was a woman. An elegant bow, and they were secured for the next dance.
Taking the proffered arm, they made their way to the dance floor, Thea’s heart hammering in her chest. She had no idea what she would do next, or what her plan was, she simply knew she would regret doing nothing. But now she was about to dance with the woman she loved, who had shunned her so cruelly, and clarity of thought seemed to be beyond her.
They took their places on the floor, around a foot from one another as the music started. Martha bowed, and Thea curtseyed. For once she was grateful for the years of practice which had prepared her for conducting herself with grace in any situation. She felt the familiar hand take hers as they paraded around the circular space. Her eyes involuntarily closed as she felt Martha’s touch. Then they were face to face once more, coming together, Martha’s arm around her waist, the two ofthem turning around one another. Her breath hitched at the feel of Martha’s hand in the small of her back, gently but firmly guiding. As it did so, Martha’s familiar smell was back, the one she had savoured and found comfort in for all those hours before Martha had gone away. It made her giddy.
She was almost glad when they broke away, and the tantalising scent was gone. Her mind raced to decide her next move. More than one dance was unlikely, so if she were to expose her identity, it would have to be within the next two minutes. But not too soon. She swallowed hard, looking away as they promenaded. Her eyes flitted from group to group at the dining areas, and then up to the gallery. There, the Greek god Dionysus pressed a nymph against a pillar, masks askew but retained as they kissed. In public. Thea recognised Dionysus as her husband.
Anger suddenly welled inside her. That she had stayed and been saddled with a cad of a husband while Martha enjoyed herself travelling the world. That, despite their promises on the ship, when the ugly fact of her marriage had become real, that Martha had chosen an easier path – or someone else – over Thea.
They stepped in toward one another and the anger surged again. It didn’t dissipate as they swapped to an adjacent partner and then came back together. By the time Martha’s arm was at the small of her back again, Thea couldn’t take it any longer.
‘I should congratulate you on an exquisite outfit, sir,’ she spoke clearly into Martha’s ear as they turned. ‘How many ships, or damsels in distress, do you plan to commandeer tonight?’ Immediately she felt Martha stiffen against her, and her head whipped round to stare at Thea’s mask. ‘Oh no, we mustn’t stop,’ said Thea, the calm of her voice belying the turmoil she felt inside. ‘We will upset the flow.’ She practically pushed Marthainto the next position who moved away and then back in without taking her eyes from Thea.
‘Thea,’ was all she said, low and dark. Thea’s heart ached to hear that voice and she almost groaned.
‘Not so much of a disguise, when you know one another as well as I thought we did, is it?’ she asked, an edge sharpening her voice. Martha made to go, but Thea held her firm. ‘I am sure you can manage one dance, Lady Foxmore,’ she said calmly. ‘For old time’s sake.’
