Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

E va could hear Kitty huffing and puffing along behind her, struggling to keep up. Kitty had never been one for physical exertions, and Eva's weeks of walking and dancing had given her an even quicker gate than normal.

"Come along, Kitty! We haven't much time," Eva encouraged, striding along at quite a clip.

"Your legs are longer than mine, this is hardly fair!" Kitty groused, but redoubled her efforts.

Eva had found a spare few minutes in which she was not under the direct supervision of her mother. She had immediately sent a note to Kitty, and they had set out, allegedly to visit the shops. Eva's steps had very quickly bent toward Mr. Galpin's dancing academy, without her quite realising it. Kitty was far too focused on keeping up with Eva's excited pace to notice where they were going until they were directly in front of the academy.

"Where are we—Eva, what are we doing here, exactly?" Kitty demanded, one hand to her stomach as they stood out on the street before the simple but elegant fa?ade.

"I just want to see if they're rehearsing or anything else," Eva said. This was half-true; in actuality, she was hoping for the chance to show off what she had been practising for Mr. Galpin—Josiah.

Kitty sighed, but immediately pulled in a deep breath and walked up the few stairs to the door. Eva smiled, knowing full well that Kitty would likely give her an earful about this particular escapade…but she would likely be forgiven if there was indeed a rehearsal going on, and all the muscular calves that Kitty could wish for on display.

Once they opened the door, however, it was clear that they had walked into a scene of barely contained pandemonium. Crowded in the entrance was a bevy of other dancers from Mr. Galpin's troupe, all of them wearing worried expressions. There was murmuring and shuffling about as everyone craned their necks to look at something. A pit of worry opened up in Eva's stomach, and she began to jostle her way forward.

"What's happened?" Eva asked generally.

One of the younger dancers, a boy of no more than fourteen with a shock of red hair on his head, whispered without turning. "One of the principals has been injured; the doctor's looking at it now."

"Surely not Mr. Galpin?" Eva asked, alarm creeping into her voice.

The boy turned to look at Eva, a grim smile on his face. "No, miss, himself is hale and hearty. ‘Twas Miss Heart who took a tumble."

Eva allowed this information to wash over her. Her first impulse was one of relief, which immediately made her feel guilty. A feeling of shame and pity for poor Miss Heart bubbled up with her. It was very possible, after all, that this could be a life-altering injury: If Miss Heart were unable to dance, she would have no career, no means of feeding herself. It was a harsh reality to be confronted with, if even someone as seemingly independent as Miss Heart could be laid low so easily.

Eva murmured her thanks and pardons as she pushed a little closer to the front of the group squeezed into the hallway by the cloakroom. The dancers, recognising Eva's fine pelisse and bonnet as the markers of the upper classes, instinctually parted and slid back a little so that she might have space.

There, on the dancefloor, was indeed Miss Heart, one stocking and shoe missing. She was not weeping and wailing, as one might expect from a performer in such a conundrum; instead, her face was ashen but hard, her eyes glittering. Mr. Galpin knelt before her, patting her hand and supervising as the maid pressed a bag full of freshly fallen snow to the offending ankle. Even from her position, Eva could see an ugly bruise blooming beneath Miss Heart's skin.

"Poor Beatrice," one of the dancers murmured, and this chorus was taken up by all present.

"Poor us ," another answered from farther back. "We've the exhibition at the ball coming, and no female lead!" That set off a new round of muttering and shifting, worried looks passing between everyone.

Josiah clearly heard them all fretting, and without looking up, he loudly proclaimed, "Let us not lose our heads just yet, shall we? The doctor will be here in short order, and then we shall know more. In the meantime, please do not excite yourselves."

This settled the crowd into an uneasy silence. Eva and Kitty exchanged a look, and melted a little off to the side. As promised, the doctor arrived in less than a quarter of an hour, brushing snow from his shoulders. He had a prodigious amount of sideburns, but was otherwise dressed unremarkably, with tiny little spectacles that seemed to constantly be slipping down his hawk's beak of a nose.

"Clear a path, clear a path," he groused, flapping the gloves he had just taken off before him to get people to move. Kitty and Eva found themselves pressed further off to the side, which suited them just fine as they could watch the drama unfold without being directly in the way.

"Let's have a look now, shall we?" the doctor said, kneeling beside Miss Heart with a little groan. The audience watched with bated breath as the doctor poked at the offending ankle, which caused Beatrice to furrow her brow. "Tell me, does this cause discomfort?" he asked quietly, gently grasping Beatrice's foot and rotating it.

Beatrice did not answer in the sense that she said actual words, but her face managed to become even more pale, and she let out a tiny grunt. The maid, clearly disturbed, set to hovering about Miss Heart, taking her hand and patting it as quickly as a hummingbird's wings.

"Well," the doctor said slowly, drawing the word out, "I do not believe it is broken." He stood with another groan, pushing his spectacles back up on his nose again. "Quite a nasty sprain though; she must stay off it for at least a week, and then only light exercise after that."

"A week ?!" Beatrice practically shrieked.

"And not a moment sooner," the doctor said, jabbing a finger at her with the hand that still held his gloves. "Eat plenty of eggs and beef broth, it will help you mend faster. And keep your foot up as much as possible," he added, jamming his hands into his gloves.

The entire crowd was gravely silent as the doctor exited, clearly having no idea the dire sentence he had just handed out. For her part, Miss Heart was on the floor, the tension seemingly gone out of her; her hands lay on the wood floor, slack and limp.

"Stevens, help me with Miss Heart," Josiah said quietly. A great hulk of a dancer disentangled himself from the group, and obligingly lifted Miss Heart, not daring to meet her eyes as he held her. Meanwhile, Josiah had disappeared behind a screen, and was dragging a chaise lounge across the floor in great, groaning squeaks that made everyone wince. "There," he said, once it was arranged along one wall. "Mary, if you would be so kind as to find a blanket and some cushions for Miss Heart," he instructed, and the maid scurried off.

With a gingerness that belied his great size, Stevens deposited Miss Heart upon the chaise lounge, and then scurried backward as if he were afraid she might swat at him for the impertinence. Mary bodily shoved her way through the crowd, bearing a pillow and blanket, and began fussing over Miss Heart, who bore it without comment.

"Oh look," Kitty murmured, "the queen has her own throne now."

A chorus of nervous titters met that remark, which drew the sharp gaze of Miss Heart. The laughter died out in an instant, and the crowd shuffled and averted their eyes.

Josiah, meanwhile, was standing with his hands on his hips, looking down at the floor. With one hand, he raked his fingers through his hair, some of it having come loose from his queue. He heaved a great sigh, then turned to face the crowd.

"Well, there's nothing for it," he said, his grey eyes dull, "I do not know how we can complete the exhibition now."

"But sir, it's so much money!"

"Dancing for the Duke! I've already told me mum?—"

"Bully to your mum, some of us have rentals we must pay!"

Josiah lifted his hands, attempting to pacify the other dancers. "I will speak to the Duchess and see if a smaller program mightn't be acceptable." The grumbling died down, but was not fully extinguished.

"Why not simply let someone take Miss Heart's place?" a voice piped up.

Josiah turned a wary glance to Miss Heart, who folded her arms and looked away sharply. "I'm not sure we have anyone who could," he said truthfully. "The female members of our troupe are engaged at the theatre for quite some time, and there's no one else that knows the steps."

Eva could feel her heart sinking. This was proving to be a disastrous day for Josiah, and she could not help but pity him, and Miss Heart for that matter. Beatrice may not have been the easiest to get along with, but to see her sidelined in such a manner was not easy.

And then, there was suddenly a sharp shove against Eva's back. She went stumbling forward, accidentally pushing through the crowd. She whipped around, and saw Kitty standing there, looking innocently skyward as if she were a saint in a Renaissance painting. Eva was preparing to demand what, exactly, she was about, when Mr. Galpin spoke up, his voice as confused as Eva felt.

"Lady Eva? What on Earth are you doing here?"

Turning back about slowly, she offered a weak smile. "I was hoping to observe another rehearsal, but…" She trailed off, looking significantly at Miss Heart, who responded by glaring. "I really am so sorry to see that you—it really is a shame."

"Sir, why not ask Lady Eva?" a voice from the crowd asked. "You've said she's your best student; why not let her try?"

Beatrice scoffed, her voice tight. "It is one thing to be able to minuet in the safety of a studio; it is another thing entirely to put on an exhibition worthy of a duke . He is not paying to see rank amateurs, no matter how lovely their face is."

Eva could not deny the truth of that, but still tossed her head proudly. She looked to Josiah, expecting him to reject the notion outright. Instead, she found him looking at her thoughtfully, his head tilted a little.

"What say you, Lady Eva? It is nothing too complicated, some waltzes, perhaps a polonaise. You have already been learning some of these dances," he asked. "I would understand completely if you should find yourself… unable to perform," he added gently, giving her an out.

His concern for her opinion and reputation made Eva smile despite the pressed situation. She looked about the room, from Beatrice glaring daggers at her, to Kitty who was watching her with a bemused expression, to the collection of eager, hopeful faces of the other dancers. Josiah still waited before her, outstretching one hand and offering it to her.

With a smile, Eva stepped forward and placed her hand in his; it was all the contract they needed.