Part 30 (1/2)
The world she entered was one of silk gowns and diamond dog collars, old money and those rich in enthusiasm, if not cash. Nearly all the names engraved on the announcements were congregated before her: season subscribers, as well as t.i.tled patrons like the Baron Von Hedelburg, the Marquis and Marchioness of Glouglow, and the Viscount de Mewe. Bertie moved about the foyer, murmuring her greetings and checking every detail. Fresh flowers bloomed in the wall niches, the chandeliers glittered, and stacks of gilt-edged programmes sat on pedestals. Members of the Chorus were dressed in the theater's black-and-gold livery and stationed at the doors.
”And just who are you, young lady?” Baron Von Hedelburg demanded.
Bertie curtsied, something she'd never practiced but managed to pull off with reasonable panache. ”Beatrice Shakespeare Smith, my lord. I directed this evening's production.”
”You don't say?” He adjusted his monocle to squint at her.
The scrutiny was disconcerting, but Bertie refused to squirm. The bodice of her dress was reinforced with steel boning that girded up her spine; although not quite a corset, it served the same purpose. ”I do, and if I may be so bold, you have quite a presence.”
”I do?”
”Yes, my lord. There is an air of authority and command about you.” Bertie tucked her gloved hand under his elbow, the better to stroll the lobby. Persiflage and badinage. Perhaps a wealthy Benefactor would appease the Theater Manager if the performance didn't manage to achieve a standing ovation. ”I was wondering . . .”
The Baron was pink around the edges from all the attention. ”Yes, my dear?”
From ”young lady” to ”my dear” in less than sixty seconds.
Bertie leaned closer, until the emerald feather tucked in her ringlets tickled his ear. ”We're always hoping to secure new patrons for the Theatre. Have you ever considered financing the arts?”
A thoughtful expression wrinkled the Baron's high forehead. ”I might have entertained a notion or two along those lines.”
”That's wonderful to hear.” Bertie patted his arm. ”We'll speak again at intermission.”
”Is this the young lady responsible for this evening?” a general boomed through a bristling silver beard. When Bertie nodded, he pumped her hand up and down as though trying to draw water from her arm. ”It's capital what you've done with the place.”
”Thank you, sir!” Bertie only just stopped herself from snapping to attention and saluting him. ”Beatrice Shakespeare Smith, at your ser vice.”
The carriages and limousines continued to arrive, their occupants streaming steadily into the foyer. The fairies sat in one of the chandeliers overhead and whispered encouragements every time she paused for breath.
”Keep going!”
”Yeah, the old guy thinks you're cute!”
”Quick, before you lose momentum!”
”Oh, Bertie, look who just came through the door!”
She turned in time to see the Countess of Tlon approach. The n.o.blewoman gave Bertie's face a vicious pinch.
”Such rosy cheeks. You're certain you're not rouged? I can't abide girls that rouge.”
”No, Madame, I a.s.sure you my coloring is entirely natural.” Bertie did her best not to flinch as the Countess gave her another pinch for good measure. ”I'm pleased you could make it on such short notice.”
”I hear tell of great things happening in this place.” The Countess tucked her arm in Bertie's and marched to the curving Grand Staircase. ”Take me to my seat, there's a girl.”
With a longing glance at the Box Office through the gla.s.s revolving door, Bertie turned and struggled to keep up with the spry dowager, getting a st.i.tch in her side by the tenth step. ”I hope you'll enjoy the changes we've made to the production.”
The Countess's ivory walking stick marked her cadence like a drum major's baton. ”Word spread so quickly about your ambitious project!”
”Really?”
”Oh, yes. After the announcement arrived by courier this afternoon-and such a charismatic courier at that!-people could speak of little else.” The Countess paused at the top to allow Bertie to catch her breath, but strangely enough, air was in short supply.
Ariel. She's talking about Ariel.
Bertie opened the door to Box Five. ”This is yours, I believe. If you'll excuse me, Madame, there are others I should greet.”
”Of course.” The Countess plonked herself down in her seat and reached for her opera gla.s.ses.
Escaping, Bertie headed for the Box Office door, intending to check on ticket sales, but the lights in the foyer dimmed, then returned to normal. A voice crackled over the hidden loudspeakers.
”Ladies and Gentlemen, your attention, please. The performance will begin in fifteen minutes.”
The fairies converged upon Bertie and herded her through the crowd.
”Come on! You need to get backstage!” Peaseblossom grabbed Bertie's earlobe and steered her through the nearest door.
”Are you going to be all right?” Moth asked.
”Ask me again after the show,” Bertie said, leaning against the wall for support. ”Is it hot in here, or is it just me?”
Even as she fanned her face with an extra programme, the temperature in the corridor dropped. Bertie's breath formed ice crystals in air that carried with it the perfume of the aurora borealis.
”You would do better to leave the stage fright to the Players, Beatrice.” Ariel was dressed all in black silk again; even his familiars had wings of onyx and black pearl tonight. The b.u.t.terflies, perched on his cuff links, moved with the winds that preceded him down the corridor.
Bertie's programme fluttered to the floor. ”You came back.”
Ariel laughed. ”I did.”
She took a step toward him. ”But you had your freedom.”
”I had something more important waiting for me here.” His winds encircled Bertie and coaxed her into his arms. ”You chose me, Milady, and I choose you in return.”
”Chose you?”
”As your own,” he specified, his smile as compelling as it was fierce. ”Why else would you have given me the one thing I thought I wanted?”
”That big stack of announcements had quite a lot to do with it.” Bertie tried to shove away her memories of the tango, of what had happened afterward.
That has nothing to do with anything, besides which I don't have time for my insides to melt into gooey puddles right now.
”In case you're curious,” Ariel added, his beautiful mouth forming the magical words, ”the performance is sold out.”