‘Did your mother teach you how to do it? The mesmerism?’
‘I believe she tried.’ Ava swallowed a little, feeling how the words had begun to stick in her throat. ‘As much as she could.’
He looked at her, one eyebrow raised. ‘You speak as though you have no natural talent, Miss Adams. But if that were true, I don’t think you’d have quite the reputation you have in these parts. And I should know. I asked around before coming to see you.’
‘I was adequate for a time,’ Ava admitted. ‘But I was neverher. That’s what I wanted – I wanted the audience to stare up at that stage and see her. Not me.’
That was what Lillian had wanted, too. For her to step into her mother’s shoes, to command the audience as her mother had. And for a long time she’d thought perhaps if she could do that, then she truly would be good enough. Good enough for Lillian, yes, but perhaps good enough for Jem, as well.
Mr Carter’s brow furrowed. ‘That’swhat you wanted?’
He was watching her now – his dark green eyes unwavering.
‘Of course,’ she said. That wasallshe’d ever wanted.
His gaze flicked away. ‘Why didn’t you want them to see you?’
‘Because my mother was the Memory Binder,’ Ava said, shifting her gaze to her hands, the jagged lines of her fingernails. ‘Because I wanted to keep that alive. But it never felt like that. It always felt like …’Like a lie. ‘Like a performance.’
Mr Carter plucked his silver spectacles from his face, wiping the glass with the sleeve of his shirt. ‘We can’tbesomebody else, no matter how hard we might wish for it,’ he said. ‘We can imitate them, perhaps, mimic them – but we can’tbecomethem. It’s still just us, underneath. It would’ve always felt like an act.’
Ava opened her mouth to reply to that – and then frowned. ‘I suppose I hadn’t considered it like that before.’
‘What if you did it your way?’ he asked. ‘And not hers?’
Ava shook her head. ‘I don’t know if I can do it any way. Not anymore.’
‘You’ll never know unless you try.’
She glanced up, her teeth skimming her bottom lip. For he was right, in a way. She wouldn’t know, would she?
‘Why?’ she asked. ‘Are you volunteering?’
‘Yes.’ He didn’t even hesitate. ‘If you’ll have me.’
She could see his hands in the mirror, could see how white his knuckles had become.
‘I thought you said it was a foolish idea.’
‘I still think it’s a foolish idea,’ he said, his voice a little overbright. ‘In fact, I’m just desperately hoping you prove yourself unable to actually do it.’
She laughed at that – a loud sound in the quiet between them. ‘Such a ringing endorsement.’
‘At least you won’t have to worry my expectations of you are too high,’ he said.
Her gaze flicked back to the mirror – to the woman staring back at her. She studied the pale shape of her eyebrows, the dark smudges beneath her eyes, and she thought of that word.
Peace.
Ava wanted to give that to her father. But more than anything, she wanted it for herself. And perhaps … perhaps Mr Carter was right. Perhaps she had been so focused on trying to become her mother, she’d lost sight of herself.
‘I suppose …’ she said slowly, the words like a dragging heat against her heart. ‘I suppose we could try. The worst that can happen is I fail.’
And she already knew whatthatfelt like.
What would be the harm?
Chapter Sixteen
