Page 90 of Regency in Color

* * *

By the endof her first week of rehearsals, Andie had begun to wonder if she’d made a horrible mistake.

Every weekday until four, The Crow’s Nest was closed to the public as Frank ran through the new show with the orchestra and all the performers. He had apparently written the whole thing in a burst over a weekend, and as strange as it seemed, Andie had to admit that it was good. There were twenty-two parts, and although it followed the structure of their established Phantasmagoria, every aspect of it was different enough that it all had to be learned again. Five days in, the actors were tearing out their hair.

As Frank stopped them to change the stage directions for a third time that day, Polly Virtue groaned aloud. “What’s wrong with the way we had it?”

“It’s the light,” Frank said. “The lamps will be here and here, and they need to see your face.”

Polly put her hands on her hips. “Why not move the lamps?”

Frank pointed at the moon affixed to the trapeze hook. “When the moon comes down, Andie’s dress will catch fire.”

Andie sat up, alarmed. “I beg your pardon—I’m coming in on the moon?”

“Naturally.” Frank smiled at Andie like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“So move the moon,” Polly said. “That thing’s only attached to the one pole anyway.”

“What?!” Andie blurted.

Frank winked at her. “You’ll be safe. Don’t worry.” He turned back to Polly to explain that if they moved the moon, the acoustics would be off, then James the Third—so called because he was the third James—had to hold her back from strangling Frank.

To his credit, Frank was remarkably patient. Most directors threw their weight around and rejected any questions whatsoever, but Frank was happy enough to explain his reasoning, even when it was clearly madness. Despite the confusion of the rehearsals, Andie had to admit that she trusted him. Seeing the Phantasmagoria had been one of the most enjoyable experiences of her life, and it had surely started much like this.

Andie flipped through her music again, looking at the stage directions. There it was—Enter, Moon. She looked at the contraption with suspicion. When Pietro had swung around it the previous week, he’d made it look easy, but nothing in her years of training had prepared her for anything like that. “Good heavens.”

Though she’d muttered it to herself, Frank heard her. He turned from the conversation he was having and gave her an encouraging smile.

A tingle of awareness crept up her spine. She’d never felt listened to in her life, but Frank seemed to hear everything she said. He’d answered all of her questions, taken her concerns seriously, and supported her every step of the way.

This was a new experience. She wasn’t sure how she felt about it.

When Polly and James had finally completed the scene to Frank’s liking, he told everyone to take a break, then came and sat beside Andie on the steps. “How are you getting on?”

Andie stifled a yawn. “I don’t understand your time signature. Are these marks for emphasis?”

“Oh, it just means it has a swing to it.” He moved to the piano and played a few bars from memory.

Andie tried to follow along. “I’m with you when you’re all alone, I see you…” She trailed off when he stopped playing. “Honestly, I’m not accustomed to singing in English.”

“It’s all right. Try this.” He started playing again from the next verse. “Love is patient, but it ain’t kind, will break your heart and rob you blind, and still the lovers seem to say, ‘I’m loving every single day.’ Well, you can run but you can’t hide, I’ll find your heart and climb inside...” He hummed the rest, meeting her gaze over the piano. “See what I mean?”

Andie stared in stunned silence. What she didn’t realize was that Frank could sing. Not like she could—his voice was more conversational with a noticeable accent. Low and full of gravel, it had a kind of effortless honesty to it. She felt the texture of it through her whole body. Her shoulders seemed to loosen, and she tingled to the arches of her feet.

He narrowed his eyes playfully. “What’s that look on your face?”

Arousal.“Confusion,” she said. “You sound almost vulnerable. I suppose I’m not used to that. Singing is the only time I feel strong.”

“So come at it from a position of strength. Remember—you are Love. It’s not a complaint, it’s a threat. A promise. You see Polly and James walking together and you’re going to give them this incredible gift, but you’re also going to ruin their lives beyond recognition. They’ll still thank you for it, and you know it.”

Andie raised her eyebrows, trying not to laugh. “So I’m the villain?”

Frank shook his head, grinning. “You’re the goddess. You’re the whole point. For only Love is stronger than Death, and in the end, I succumb to you as well.” His gaze softened. “Are you married? Courting anyone?”

Heat rushed to Andie’s cheeks at what he was asking and why he might be asking it. “No.”

He looked almost satisfied to hear it. “Have you ever been in love?”

“No,” she answered without hesitation.

Frank nodded sagely. “Then I see we have some work to do.” He played a few notes, breaking the tension in the room. “Could you stay for the show tonight? It might help.”

Cosimo and Alessandra, the Italian percussionists, were trying out a new act with the dancers. Andie didn’t know what to expect, but apparently it was some kind of folk dance. She couldn’t imagine how it would help, but she liked the idea of spending more time with Frank. “All right.” Her driver would be waiting around the corner from St. Leonard’s, but she would give him a few hours off and the money for an evening out. She was certain Thomas would be happy enough for the diversion.