“Yes, and it’s rather annoying.”
“I prefer the termendearing.So how long have you been visiting your ma?”
The question was entirely too personal, but it was their one place of common ground.Well, aside from Tristan.She nuzzled the top of his head with her chin, and he nipped her in return.Okay, so no nuzzling.She glanced at Mr.Beaumont, who gave an expectant arch to his brow.Fine.As he’d likely intrude upon her time with Mum in the future, she’d best inform him nothing Mum said should be believed.No matter how true it may be.
“Five years next month.She’s developed quite the imagination, much to her detriment.”
“Such as imagining Winston and Ursula as a danger to you?”
“Yes.She saw them wherever she looked, and her fear led to dangerous behaviors.”
Like almost shooting Father when he’d come home unexpectedly and attacking a stranger in the street because she thought him Winston.No matter how certain Nora and Father were that they were still safe, Winston and Ursula had become the tormentors to Mum’s days and nights, eventually driving away all reasonable thought.
Before Mr.Beaumont could ask any other impertinent questions, she changed the topic.“What do you do for a living, Mr.Beaumont?Not many working men can leave for the afternoon to visit their mums or start their days well into the afternoon.”
“I’m blessed to be the stage manager for Pike’s Opera House.On most days, we have morning rehearsals, a break for three or four hours, then I’m required to return at four to prepare for the evening show.”
“You work at Pike’s Opera House?”So much for minding her tone.The awe and longing had slipped through as if held in a sieve.
By his widening smile, he’d noticed.“I do.I interact on a daily basis with the visiting troupes.This week it is the Soldene Opera Company.Thomas Keene is next week, and then we’ll have the famous actress Sarah Bernhardt.”
The man was bragging, but Nora couldn’t blame him.While the world might be in a flutter over Sarah Bernhardt’s acting, it was the chance to hear operas again that had Nora longing for just one day in his position.She hadn’t stepped foot inside an opera house since New York, let alone stood in the wings of a performance.Out of the nearly dozen opera houses and music halls in the city, Pike’s Opera House was supposed to be the best.Well, it was until Music Hall opened in ’78.Not that she’d experience either for herself.Both were forbidden by Father.
“If you’re interested, I could procure a ticket or two for one of theOlivetteperformances on Friday or Saturday.I couldn’t join you for the performance, but if you come early or stay late, I can provide atour and perhaps introduce you to the cast.Regrettably Sarah Bernhardt has strict rules about visitors.”
Nora’s mouth went dry, and her heart raced.How she wanted to say yes.She didn’t care one whit about Sarah Bernhardt, but to hear theopera?It didn’t matter it was one she’d never heard of.Her music-parched soul begged her to accept one night of defiance and sit in the audience where the music and lyrics could finally quench the dream long denied her.
But Father would never allow it, and shows occurred in the evenings when he was home and expected her to be as well.As of late, he’d been filling her weekends with potential suitors, ones who specifically had a distaste for theatre and would frown upon Mum’s former profession.Even if Nora wanted to sneak away like Lydia or Theresa would, she couldn’t get away with it.
“Perhaps I could introduce you to Emily Soldene and tell her what a magnificent singer you are.I’ve been told she’s always looking for talented and beautiful women to join her troupe.”
Oh heavens!That would certainly send Father into a fit of apoplexy.It would be one thing to attend an opera, but something far worse to interact with someone who lived in the limelight and might remember Mum.And for Nora to take to the stage?He might tossherinto Longview.The dream of seeing Mum on stage was long dead, but dreaming of one day taking the stage herself was something Nora didn’t even dare strike the flint to.Once that spark ignited, she wasn’t sure she could ever put out the fire—not without the pain of getting burned.
“As generous as your offer is, I’m afraid I’ll have to decline.”Just saying the words crushed her.
Disappointment stole the brightness from Mr.Beaumont’s countenance, and he fell quiet.By the way Tristan stopped trying to escape her arms, even he had turned sullen.Nora endured the remainder of the walk convincing herself the denial was necessary and she wouldn’t really have enjoyed the experience anyway.
Chapter Six
ASNORA EXPECTED, THERESA WASthrilled to take Tristan under her care.The cantankerous cat, however, ferociously complained about it.He yowled, growled, hissed, and fought with enough ferocity to cow a lion.He didn’t consent to being wiped down and brushed out until Theresa bribed him with fish.As soon as she freed him, he went around clawing the furniture in retribution for his discomfort, despite having been well compensated.
Mr.Beaumont seemed intent on making up for their silent walk to Theresa’s by incessantly talking while they waited for the carriage to be hitched.He didn’t seem to mind that Nora remained quiet and occupied with knitting in front of the fire.His subdued charm was consistent toward her as he carried the conversation, but completely absent toward Theresa.Why couldn’t the man be a casual flirt?It would be much easier to dismiss his attention if he were.
“Dogs have owners.Cats have staff,” Mr.Beaumont joked as they watched Tristan self-groom with his back to them, looking every bit like he believed them peasants.
Mrs.Hawking, Plane Manor’s housekeeper, opened the door.“The carriage is ready, Miss Theresa.”
“Thank you.We’ll be out shortly.You’re dismissed.”Theresa always sounded like her colonel grandfather when she spoke like that, but at least she sounded kind instead of gruff like the militant man.
Mr.Beaumont rose from his seat across from Nora, indecisionerasing his earlier confidence.“Are you certain you don’t want me to escort you home?”
“I am.”Though she was loath to leave the warmth of the parlor’s fireplace, she set aside her knitting and collected Tristan.She passed the displeased feline into Mr.Beaumont’s arms.“You need to take Tristan home and get yourself changed.I will not be responsible for jeopardizing your job.Besides, I’m overdue for a visit with Theresa.”
Tristan knocked Mr.Beaumont’s hat askew, and since the man’s hands were full with the menace, she readjusted it for him.She wasn’t one to blush, but her face warmed at the intimate distance required to reach the hat.
His scowl at the cat faded into an impertinent grin.“Thank you, m’lady.”
She stepped back quickly, lest her cheeks betray her and he suspect his charm affected her.“I told you to stop it, Don Giovanni.”
