“Then provide him a good chase and test his mettle.”Flossie shrugged as though she hadn’t given the most ridiculous suggestion of them all.“If it ends in nothing, then you can say you tried.Hehasto be better than those dullard accountants your father keeps pushing on you.”
“Better a dullard than a rake,” Nora countered.
“If you really believe that of Mr.Beaumont, we won’t keep pushing, but I think you’re unnerved that he’s seen you and chosen you all on his own.When was the last time a man did that?”
When was the last time a man had chosen her because he thought the quiet, unassuming woman an easy target?Two years ago, when she’d ended Mr.Teegler’s hopes of children.But for a man toseeher andstillchoose to pursue her?Never.Most men saw her purposely cold and aloof manner and avoided her, even without knowing madness tainted her blood.If Mr.Beaumont, who knew of Mum, was so intent on pursuing her, he must have an ulterior motive, right?
The orchestra began warming up, ending all conversation between the Guardians as they confiscated her libretto and took turns reading the summary page ofOlivettein preparation for the performance.Nora didn’t bother trying.Her mind was too scattered, and her eyes wandered far too often to the spot where Mr.Beaumont had indicated he worked behind the curtains.
As much as she wanted to hold to the image of him as Don Giovanni, an honest look at what she’d seen of his character just didn’t match.Yes, he exasperated her with that habit of charming her or talking until her head ached, but he had never taken liberties with her.In fact, he’d gone out of his way to avoid any perception of it.And his love and care for his mum was telling.Of the eight hundred patients at Longview, only a handful had visitors each week, and even fewer of those were regular.But Mr.Beaumont made time to visit his mum during his only break between rehearsal and show.It had to make for an exhausting day.Yet only twice had he not come during the hours he’d indicated were his break.Did that mean he was different from the others?A man she should allow the chance to pursue her?Like Flossie said, she didn’t have to make it easy on him.
The grand curtain wavered in the corner, and Nora caught a glimpse of him as the manager of the opera house entered the stage to welcome the audience.Mr.Beaumont’s head tilted up like he sought her out, but the curtain shifted too quickly for her to be certain.Itwas nice to be wanted by him, and Flossie was right.There was more to like about him than the dullards Father chose.He was generous, kind, protective, knew how to make her feel special, and to top it off, he was connected to the opera.She could speak freely about her love of music and not be rebuked or made to feel foolish for it.What could it hurt to allow him his chase?She was a fast runner, and she’d not be caught by any man who didn’t prove himself worthy.
By the time the performers took to the stage, Nora had settled into her decision.
Annoyingly, her gaze continued to wander to the black curtain.This simply would not do.She was finally getting her chance to be in the audience, and her attention was divided.
She closed her eyes and focused on the orchestra’s music.It was melodious and graceful, full of spirit and running over with vivacity.The strength of the orchestra never overpowered the voices of those on the stage, but the notes soothed and drew her in.Once calm in mind and body, she turned a critical ear toward the singing, listening, as Mum had taught her, for clarity, articulation, and intonation.The multiple voices competed with one another, not quite unpleasant but obviously in need of some tuning.Then another male voice joined in, loud and commanding, and her whole body tensed.There was nothing wrong with the singing, but that voice ...When he shifted to speaking, Nora struggled to breathe.It wasn’t familiar ...and yet, it was.It tortured the edge of her memory, demanding placement.
Nora opened her eyes and found the source standing in the center of the stage.She’d expected some sort of recognition, but theatrical paint disguised anything visually familiar about him.All she could discern was he was balding, thin, and clean-shaven.But something about him made her want to run.Even though her feet did not sprint, her heart decided to become an Olympian.
Flossie leaned over.“Are you all right?”
Nora sucked in a breath and willed her body to fall into submission.This was merely a fit of nerves like those she’d had as a child.She forced the breath out slowly and began the exercise she’ddeveloped all those years ago when she’d begun sleeping alone in her room after the kidnapping.Like she did when singing, she focused on relaxing every muscle from the top down, breathing purposefully, and repeating truths to herself.
She drew a deep breath and held it.You are safe.No one is here to hurt you.She blew the breath out slowly and evenly, paying attention to the way the muscles in her neck and shoulders relaxed.You are not alone.Deep, slow breath.Flossie is next to you on your left.Lydia is on your right.Another slow release, this time focusing on the muscles in her back.You are surrounded by sweet, glorious music.Listen to it.She breathed deep, listening to the orchestra and picking out each section.Strings.Woodwinds.Brass.Percussion.Sweet music that had long been denied her.Finally, her heart rate slowed.You are in a fine satin dress that you feel beautiful in.She rubbed the material between her fingers and released another slow breath.Her body wasn’t completely relaxed, but she felt in control again.
She offered Flossie a weak smile.“I’m sorry.I’m fine now, just a moment of overwhelm.The last time I was in an opera house didn’t go well.”
“Why not?”
The Guardians knew of her kidnapping as a child, just not many of the details surrounding it and how it tied to her past.Having to explain why she was taken from a greenroom would have required explaining her family’s connection to the opera.
“Let’s just say I didn’t leave of my own accord.”
“Do you mean—”
Someone shushed them, and Flossie squeezed her hand with a promise they’d talk later before returning her attention to the performance.Nora did her best to follow Flossie’s example, but every time her gaze fell back on that man, unease laced her chest like a too-tight corset.The opera was supposed to be the place she felt happiest.Why was that not the case now?
Chapter Nine
THE EXTRA REHEARSAL LAST NIGHThad been necessary, given the company hadn’t received the libretto and score forOlivetteuntil three days ago, and Ezekiel wasn’t the only one suffering from it.The universal lack of sleep was on full display in both the performers and staff.Scene changes were rife with mistakes.Pieces were removed that needed to be left and others added that belonged to another opera completely.More than once, one of the men at the fly rail had missed their whistled cue and left the stage exposed to view too long, or they had heard a whistle when there wasn’t one and nearly dropped the curtain in the middle of a scene.As far as the performers went, the first two acts were fine.However, the third was proving more difficult.The prompter spoke often enough it was sure to be noticed by the house and mentioned in tomorrow’s reviews.
Poor Miss Stella was the worst off.Not only was she performing a principal part in an unfamiliar operetta, she was sick to the point of being near a faint.Between scenes, she lay as pale and green as a seasick ghost on the wing’s floor.However, the show must go on, and Miss Stella upheld that motto.She might feel like dying in the wings, but on stage she performed like she felt the best of her life.It would surprise Ezekiel if anyone in the audience suspected her ill.Still, he kept an eye on her and prayed she wouldn’t faint during “No!No!’Tis You.”
Ezekiel rubbed the grit from his eyes, then studied the meticulously notated score before him.Two more pieces, and only one of them included singing.Behind him the chorus completed the last of their seven wardrobe changes, leaving piles of costumes shoved against the wall in their rush to be back on stage in time.He should be grateful the mess meant there might be a few performers still around when he finally gave Miss Davis her tour, but honestly, he’d rather not give the tour tonight, with as tired as he was.But a promise was a promise, and he wouldn’t give Miss Davis cause to think less of him.
After some dialogue, a short musical interlude of “Marche Militaire,” and the finale “All Is Ended,” the house burst into rapturous applause.Ezekiel edged closer to the stage than he typically allowed and sought the spot in the balcony where he’d left Miss Davis and her friends.She clapped in a subdued manner while her friends shared their exuberant appreciation of the performance.Had she not enjoyed it?Perhaps he’d misjudged her tolerance of things related to the opera.While roles where women played men were common, Miss Soldene liked to press the boundaries of the acceptable.Her productions were known for costumes that accentuated her female performers’ physical attributes in ways that were often close to scandalous.Some critics compared Miss Soldene’s productions to a burlesque.
Encores were called for Miss Stella to sing her crying song, and it was several more minutes before the curtain dropped and the house rumbled with the audience’s exit.Weary performers wandered offstage as Ezekiel carefully returned the call cards to their proper places in his prompt book.Miss Soldene instructed the chorus to straighten up the costumes and reminded everyone to return tomorrow at eleven for the matinee performance at two.Formally dismissed, Ezekiel rushed to his office to put away his prompt book before meeting Miss Davis and her friends at the cloakroom.
Adler joined him in the hall as Ezekiel locked the office.“Someone mentioned you had lady friends in attendance tonight.Did any of them happen to be Constanza Brisbane and her daughter?”
Ezekiel tensed.Adler had been pointed and persistent in his interestin meeting Mrs.Brisbane ever since her name had come up.Thankfully, the last two performances for the Soldene Opera Company were tomorrow, then Adler would be on his way to Chicago.Unfortunately that didn’t help Ezekiel’s current predicament.Miss Davis and her friends waited for him by the cloakroom, but the last thing he wanted to do was expose them to Adler.Especially since Adler had described Miss Davis’s appearance.
“No, the ladies were acquaintances for whom I obtained seats for tonight’s performance.I’m certain they’re long gone by now.”Ezekiel faked a yawn, but it turned real.“I’m dead on my feet and heading straight home to bed.You?”
“As long as I don’t fall asleep in a gutter on the way.”Adler chuckled.“I’ve not got enough for a hack, so it will be walking for me.”
