He banged the doorframe. “Youfoolishgirl! Have you any idea what instruction in Paris costs? Respectable boarding near the opera house? Private training with one of the most renowned tutors on the continent? More money than you’ll ever see, and plenty of favors called in besides. No, you’ll never be able torepayit.”
I stiffened. “Then I suppose you’ll merely have to accept what I can give. I realize curiosity will have worn off by the time I can return, but I do hope you accept me back so I may continue to carry out what I owe you. It may take years, but Iwillmake it all worth your while.”
I turned on my heel, sincerely hoping my words would prove true. I nearly doubled over at the pain in my knee, along my hip, and limped as fast as I could down the corridor, past the ruined stage, and on to the materials room and privacy. The theater had ruined me, in a way, for no respectable place—even a washhouse—would have me now.
He was right, I couldn’t simply walk away from the contract. I had given my word. Besides, what would become of me? Of Lily? I’d paid her way quite a bit lately. I’d sent a boy to fetch her on my way here to see exactly what her current situation was, and meanwhile I forced myself to stretch.
I’d accomplished a great deal in my life by sheer determination, and I wouldn’t stop now. Injuries healed. Pain lessened. Itwould only take time and dedication—if not this season, then next. Giving in now was simply not an option. Finally with my muscles warm, I braved a simplerelevéand pain seared through my leg in both directions, dropping me to the floor.
“A star, you say?”she’d overheard an investor say of her.
Some star. A shooting star, perhaps. A bright flash, followed by a quick plummet to earth. But how could this be? I cried out into the silence of my mind, and despair was all that returned. God was utterly silent. I began to wonder if I’d imagined everything concerning him. I certainly felt no measure of peace now, no sense of his presence.
I set out candle stubs on ladder rungs, on weathered tables, a circle of light for my dancing floor, and gently worked on the injured knee, forcing myself to relax through the pain. I inhaled deeply in the subtle candle glow and wound Mama’s music box with a hairpin. Dancing was all the value left in my life. In me. I’d been forced to release my mother—I wasn’t ready to let go of ballet too.
I stilled in the chilly room when I sensed another presence behind me. The door had swung open—I could feel the slight breeze of it. I forced myself up to standing and turned.
“Lily! Oh, am I relieved to see you. I’ve so much to—”
“I’ve only come to say goodbye.” Lily looked older somehow. Resolute. Perhaps it was the dainty hat perched at a becoming angle on her head. Her garments even made her look more a lady than a walker-on at a second-rate theater, which was her latest bid for work. “I’ve decided to accept a governess position at a country estate.”
Governess. That sounded moral—reasonable. Lily was neither of those things. I straightened and swallowed, waiting for, dreading, the rest.
It came. “He’s promised to take care of me.”
The captain. I could tell by the armed way she stood before me, shield up and ready to do battle. “But, Lily, you’ve a fine young man from—”
“That isn’t love. Nothing close to it.” Her full lip quivered. “You cannot go back, you know. Once you’ve tasted the real thing, everything else is vinegar in one’s mouth.”
I glared, turned away, and cranked Mama’s music box until that hairpin broke. Then I swept into second position, my arched back facing her.Hewas the vinegar, that wretched man. She’d soon taste it when the sweetness had worn away. The music I’d so loved in childhood pinged through the empty room, hitting a few odd notes. It sounded rusty and old. Outdated. Slightly off. Yet familiar and homey.
“I’ve no reason to stay any longer. Mama’s gone, and you never needed me. I want to have real love in my life. I won’t settle. I won’t.”
I pointed my toes and spun on my good leg, welcoming the dull ache. Shards of pain shot through the bad leg. My spins grew tighter and faster.
So did her voice. “For pity’s sake, Ella, answer me!”
The pain in my lifted knee was muffled by whatever was now piercing my heart. One of the candle stubs sputtered out.
“I’ve been offered something beautiful, and I want to take hold of it while I can. I won’t stand on some antiquated principles and watch love pass me by. I want to seize it. Can you understand? Can you, even a little?”
I swept my arms overhead, refusing to allow her words to penetrate. To settle in as reality. I’d had too much of that lately.
The music jarred suddenly—a whirring sound. I spun as Lilyheaved that delicate box against the wall with an animalistic grunt. “Listento me, will you?”
The box splintered, springs rolling across the floor, the ballerina spinning on her side. I froze. A line had been crossed. Trampled. The precious pieces of my childhood lay scattered among the rubble on the floor. It had been a gift to Mama from her parents so many years ago, one of the only trinkets she brought with her, and then she’d given it to me. It was a sacred moment of my childhood I’d never forget.
Two more candles flicked out. My childhood was dying a very sudden death in every way, piece by piece ripped away. Consumed by flames.
I crouched, fingering a splintered box piece as my heart pounded in my ears. Every muscle throbbed. Tensed and released. “You’re better than this, Lily. Respectable. You’d found a good man, were on your way to a happy life, and—”
“No! This wasyouridea, living with all this virtue and pointless restraint. I never wanted to be respectable—only loved.”
I looked up at her delicate face contorted with anger, lost and helpless. I should speak, attempt to undo what was about to happen, but my tongue had hardened to the roof of my mouth.
“Goodbye, Ella.” Her voice was softer, her shadowed face a mix of vulnerability and childlike determination that I hadn’t seen since her mother had died years ago. “I hope you understand.” She turned in a whirl of white lawn skirts and showed me her back for the very last time. At last I knew—I had done the right thing. Not for Lily, but for the child, once bundled against the winter night in my cloak, whom she never could have properly loved.
38
