Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

W ednesday dawned with a bone-biting chill, but sunny. Eva swung out of bed bright and early, throwing open the curtains. She had to peer through the frost that had accumulated on her window, but it was unmistakably a blue sky that greeted her. This in itself made the day feel like a holiday after weeks of rain and clouds. She rang for a maid at once, hoping to be dressed and already at breakfast before her mother roused herself.

It had been more difficult than she had imagined to settle on what to wear. She was torn between her desire to be…well, desirable and make a good first impression, and not wanting to alert her mother to her true destination. Eva suspected that her mother wouldn't protest her going to the theatre so much as she would protest that there weren't any eligible men there. Eva tried to tell herself that this was an exaggeration, but she wasn't sure if it actually was.

She had settled on a deceptively simple walking dress in a greyish-lavender, with a subtle pattern in dark blue. She did not wish to give the impression that she was overdressed, so she kept her toilette relatively simple, opting to simply pull her thick hair up at the back of her head. She wore a simple ribbon about her waist in dark purple, and a chemisette in soft, feathery grey in deference to the weather.

After hurriedly pulling on her leather walking boots, Eva tripped down the stairs as lightly as she could. She was content with a breakfast of cold pie and ham, eating as fast as she dared to, one eye on the clock the entire time. She believed that she was making good time; her whole goal was to have one foot out of the door by the time her mother was dressed and coming down the stairs.

These well-laid plans were quickly squashed, however, by the unmistakable sound of Lady Stanton tromping down the stairs. Eva looked up sharply, her eye meeting the footman's, who gave a helpless little shrug. Eva sighed, but did her best to slow her eating, not wishing to look like she was actually in a hurry.

"Good morning, Mother," she said casually when Lady Stanton entered the dining room. "This is a little early for you."

"It is," Lady Stanton agreed, taking her place at the head of the table. She cleared her throat pointedly, and the footman scrambled to pull out her chair. "I have some calls that I must pay early today." She sat down, unfolding a napkin and placing it in her own lap, eyeing Eva the entire time. "You look nice this morning."

"Do I?" Eva said, looking down at herself. "Drat. I was going for ‘respectably plain.' Kitty has asked me to assist with her charity work today."

"Well, you would shine in a burlap sack, my little sunshine," Lady Stanton quipped. "I know that it is an admirable pursuit for young ladies, but are you sure that this is the best use of your time?"

"Of course I am, Mother," Eva said, reaching for her teacup. "Kitty says that Lady Fairweather is a patron, and you know that her drawing room is one of the most exclusive in London."

Lady Stanton mulled that over, reaching for a slice of ham and putting it on her plate. "I suppose that is so. I only hope we can have as much grace when it is our turn to be receiving the charitable visits."

"Oh Mother, really, it is not even ten o'clock yet," Eva sighed.

"It's never too early for a reminder about the importance of this Season," Lady Stanton insisted. "Lest you forget, you must?—"

The distinctive ringing of the bell at the front door was purely a blessing as far as Eva was concerned. The footman ducked out to answer the door, and Eva stood, placing her own napkin on the table next to her plate. "That must be Kitty now," she said. "I've quite lost track of the hour."

"Oh very well," Lady Stanton groused. "Be off with you, but be back well before dinner, or I'll rouse the watch to find you."

"Of course, Mother," Eva said, stooping to press a kiss to Lady Stanton's cheek before nearly skipping to the front door.

Kitty gave her a significant look as she slipped into her pelisse, navy blue with copious white fur trim along the neck and down the front closure. "Are you ready for our day of charitable giving?" Kitty asked, arching one eyebrow.

"Kitty, you know that I am always eager to lend a helping hand to those that need it," Eva replied, sliding her hands into a matching fur muff.

It was a credit to their many years of exploits that they were able to make it out of the door, down to the street, and securely into Kitty's father's carriage before being overtaken by laughter.

As they had not had a day out in quite some time, the ladies had decided that it would behove them to visit at least one confectioner's shop and Harding Howell dancers had their legs popped up on any level surface, stretching and rubbing their muscles, causing Kitty's eyes to go wide; actors and actresses practised their lines at full stage volume, creating a chaotic din; and somewhere, behind it all, a soprano warbled along to the plinking notes of a piano.

Eva and Kitty held tightly to each other's hands so that they would not become separated in the chaos. Eva also suspected that it was also because they required the comforting support, not that either of them would admit to being discomfited by the goings-on backstage.

At last they reached an area that Knots helpfully informed them was the "wings," or the area where performers waited to make their entrance onstage. While it was dimly lit backstage, the stage itself was awash in light. From their position in the wings, they got their first glimpses of the dancers.

"Oh look—that's Beatrice Heart," Eva said sotto-voice to Kitty. "She's so beautiful and talented." She nodded her head in the direction of a woman who stood in only her stays and chemise with a skirt overtop, her hair cropped short in the Parisian style.

"Oh my—oh, she is really standing before all of those men in her underpinnings ," Kitty hissed. "And her skirt! It's a good six inches above her ankles."

"It's part of a costume, Kitty, I really doubt that she goes about like this off-stage," Eva said placatingly. Kitty shot her a look that asked, Are you quite sure about that?

A series of loud, authoritative claps sounded out above the murmuring dancers, and a hush fell. Kitty and Eva watched, fascinated, as Josiah Galpin strode forward, like a king surveying his subjects. All looked up at him with reverence and awe, except for Beatrice, who met his gaze straight-on.

"We must do it again," Josiah said loudly, "and we must get it right this time. The timing is tight, we've no time for missteps and fumbling about. That means you , Jean-Paul." A young man, wearing breeches and a shirt and not much else hung his head a little.

"My my," Kitty murmured. "Thank you for taking me sight-seeing." Eva gave her a despairing look, but Kitty was busy eyeing not only the dancers, but the well-muscled stagehands who stood ready to lift and change scenery at a moment's notice.

At Josiah's signal, the dancers all scurried into position. There was a moment of expectant silence, and then the musicians, hidden in the pit below the stage, began to play. Eva did not recognise the music, but it was a leaping, jaunty tune with an exotic flair. From the moment that the dancers took to the stage, nothing else existed for Eva.