But From Thine Eyes

by Christina Britton Conroy

  The next pictures were the men she had met backstage, and a few women she had not met. Little Evan was there. She read his name, Evan O’Connell. He looked exactly like Katherine Stewart. Miss Stewart and Mr. O’Connell must be his parents.

  *

  During the intermission, cast and crew prepared for the second act. It took Jeremy O’Connell only minutes to change his tunic, comb his wig, and freshen his makeup. When his dresser took his first act tunic away, Jeremy saw Rory Cook hover nervously near the door. Whatever did he want?

  “Mr. Cook?”

  “Mr. O’Connell, sir.”

  “Won’t you come in?” Jeremy adored Rory, was prepared to give him anything, but would have good sport making him work for it. He offered Rory a chair, then sat down and crossed his legs. “You appear to have come on a mission, Mr. Cook. What can I do for you?”

  Rory leapt up, stammering, “Well sir… you see sir… it’s like this sir.” Sweat gleamed through his makeup. He glanced through the open doorway. “May we speak privately, sir?”

  “Of course, my boy.” Now, Jeremy was concerned.

  Rory closed the door, pulled a chair close, and spoke in hushed tones. “You see sir, there’s a new apprentice, a lovely girl, she…”

  “Miss Fielding.”

  “Yes sir… you see, sir… she’s lovely.”

  “So you said.”

  “Yes, sir. She is nothing like the others.”

  “Nothing like the others.” What did he want, a love potion?

  “She’s well-bred and educated, and, well… she’s a lady.”

  “Yes.” Jeremy nodded seriously. “All right. So far I’m with you.” This was funny.

  “Well sir, she… she…”

  “Yes?”

  “She’s new here, and she’s not had much experience.”

  “No.”

  “On the stage, that is.”

  “No.”

  “She’ll be in your class. You’ll try to teach her… I mean you will teach her. You’re a brilliant teacher.” There was a knock on the door. “Damn!” Rory drove a fist into his open palm.

  A boy’s voice called, “Five minutes, Mr. O’Connell.”

  “Thank you, Matt.”

  “She doesn’t like me.” He buried his head in his hands.

  “What?”

  “She doesn’t like me. Everything I say is wrong. She won’t even talk to me.”

  “How is this possible? She only arrived a few hours ago.”

  “Well sir, it was at tea, at Mrs. Potter’s. We’re always a bit rough there. I hadn’t even seen that she was at the table, and…” He closed his eyes, raised his chin and looked as if he were about to cry.

  Jeremy threw up his hands. “All right laddie, tell me what happened, but quickly.”

  Rory took a deep breath and raced through his story.

  Jeremy shook his head. “My dear boy, I see the ghastly picture all too clearly. However, a mere quarter-hour after that disastrous tea, Elly Fielding was in my dressing-room appearing none the worse for wear. My guess is that she was less distressed than you imagined. Perhaps she has come from a chaotic household and is used to rowdy behaviour. We must never assume that a lady’s outward appearance reveals her inner mettle.”

  The call-boy knocked on the door. “Places, Mr. O’Connell.”

  “Thank God.” He hurried out with Rory at his heels. “So, what in the world do you want from me?”

  “Please sir, give us a scene together, then she’ll have to talk to me.”

  Jeremy nearly tripped over his own feet. This was hilarious, but he pretended to be shocked. He glared down at Rory. “Give you a scene together. Are you serious?” Rory’s sweet eyes pleaded and Jeremy was tempted to give in to him, then and there. He fluttered a hand. “It is too late now. Go on stage, boy. Talk to me after. I need to think.”

  When the final curtain fell, the audience was on its feet. Women sobbed into handkerchiefs. Men cheered. The ovation went on and on. When the cheering finally stopped, the stage curtain lowered and stayed still.

  Jeremy sat in front of his dressing-table, using lard and a rag to wipe off his makeup. He felt very calm and almost meditative as he meticulously went over every inch of his face and neck.

  In the corner of his mirror, he could see Elly Fielding standing in the hallway. She saw his smiling reflection. He spoke into the mirror, “Won’t you come in, my dear,” and gestured toward a chair.

  “Thank you, sir.” Smiling shyly, she walked in and sat down.

  His posture was easy. “So, what did you think of our Scottish Play?”

  She looked very serious. “Well, sir, I had read the play but never seen it. On paper Macbeth seems a feeble-minded murderer and I never felt the slightest sympathy.” She looked him straight in the eye. “You made me care about you. I felt sorry for you. I wanted to hate you, but I could not.” Her voice rose with each excited line. “I did not want you to die. You did not want to kill anyone. It was not your fault. I hated Lady Macbeth for seducing you into it. She was so evil I wanted to kill her.” She lowered her eyes, nervously waiting for his response.

  He chuckled softly. “Thank you. I think that is my favourite review to date.”

  “Daddy!” Evan flew into the room. “It was wonderful. No terrible second night for us.”

  “No laddie, not for us. We were wonderful.” He gave the boy a hug.

  Evan beamed. “Hello Miss Fielding, did you like the play?”

  “You were marvelous. I was so sad when you died.”

  “Dying is fun. I never got to die before. I died in Richard the Third, but that was offstage. No one saw it.”

  She nodded in sympathy. “Why would a second night be terrible?”

  Proud to be the authority, Evan explained, “Well, you see, opening nights are usually fine, because everyone is nervous and keyed up. Second night, everyone relaxes, and some make stupid blunders. The Scottish Play is especially dangerous, because bad things have happened during other productions.” He leaned on Jeremy. “Mummy said not to wait for her, so I’m going to the pub. Are you having supper tonight?”

  “Yes, why not? Miss Fielding, do us the honour of joining two unworthy gentlemen for a light repast.”

  Elly gasped with surprise. “Thank you, sir. I would be delighted.”

  Evan saw Jeremy’s used supper tray, pulled off the serviette and smiled to find scraps of crust and chicken gravy. “No, Evan.” Jeremy rolled my eyes. “The cats do not need that tiny bit of nourishment. They have plenty of mice.” Evan seized the plate and flew up the stairs. Elly watched with a puzzled look, as Jeremy shrugged and slipped on his coat. “Evan is sure the theatre cats will perish without his offerings.”

  She smiled in surprise. “I haven’t seen any cats.”

  “Nor will you, unless you are walking the cat-walk.” He chuckled at his play-on-words. “It is dangerous and you should never have occasion to cross that precariously high and narrow roadway that serves as a bridge between stage-right and left. Come, let us be on our way.” Elly followed him into the hall.

  He locked his dressing-room door as Rory charged across the stage. “Mr. O’Connell, I’m late, forgive me,” he panted, “I was delayed by a wardrobe difficulty. I am so glad you’re still here.” He stopped dead when he saw Elly. His face was still coated with a thin film of dark paint. His hands were filthy and his hair needed combing.

  Jeremy chuckled, “Join us for supper, Mr. Cook?” Elly smiled shyly and Rory beamed.

  “Thank you, sir.” He noticed his hands. “Just give me a minute to wash. I’ll join you in the pub.”

  As Jeremy and Elly crossed the stage, he pointed up to the cat-walk and Evan balancing on two narrow planks. “Those cats are feral and seldom come near humans. We need them to control the mice, and every theatre has cats. Without them, mice chew holes through scenery, but worse, they gnaw through ropes, sometimes causing fatal accidents. I believe that half the world’s theatre ghosts are actually cats.”r />
  Elly caught her breath. “Does this theatre have a ghost?”

  “No, it’s too new. The first production was only in 1897. No one has had a chance to die here, yet.” She blinked, but said nothing. Todd and Lester appeared as if by magic. Jeremy often fed his starving apprentices. He chuckled at their perfect timing. “Join us for supper, lads?”

  They chanted in chorus. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

  The Actress and Villain was already crowded with good humoured actors, backstage crew, their families and friends. The dreaded second night of the cursed Scottish Play had ended without incident. Tomorrow was a daytime day off. Everyone was happy and relaxed, eating, drinking, and joking. Jeremy inhaled the pleasant aroma of hot food and waved to Timmy behind the long service bar.

  Lester took Elly’s arm. “Here y’ are, m’ lovely.” He pulled out a chair for her and quickly crammed himself into the chair at her right. Rory shoved Todd aside and slid into the chair on Elly’s left. Jeremy chuckled and sat across, with Todd and Evan on either side of him. Soon the young actors were helping themselves from bowls of mutton stew, chicken pie, bangers and mash, bread, potatoes, mushy peas, pickled onions, pints of beer and lemonade. Jeremy picked from the dishes and enjoyed watching the famished young people clean their plates. Lester kept Elly giggling with silly jokes. Every time Rory spoke or reached for something, Elly shied away.

  “Here’s Mummy!” Evan sat up, watching Katherine Stewart squeeze through the noisy crowd. Her fair skin glowed and her thick blond hair was tied back with a ribbon. They all stood.

  “Please, don’t bother.” She motioned for them to sit, moved behind her son’s chair, and kissed the top of his head.

  Jeremy took her hand and held it to his cheek. “Katie, I do not think you have met our new apprentice, Elly Fielding.”

  Elly maneuvered around the table. She stooped slightly, surprised to find that she was taller than Katherine.

  “I’m so pleased to meet you, Miss Fielding. You’ll be a lovely addition to our stable.” Katherine offered her hand and smiled warmly.

  Elly’s eyes widened as she shook Katherine’s hand. “Stable, ma’am?”

  Katherine laughed. “Just an old expression. We’re all like horses under one roof.”

  “Oh, I see.” As Elly’s smile broadened, a charming blush coloured her cheeks.

  Katherine raised an eyebrow. “She’s beautiful, Jerry. You did well. Where did you find her?”

  “Michael Burns found her, actually. The credit goes to him. I don’t know where she came from. That is still a mystery.”

  Elly stared at him, then the floor. She suddenly looked afraid.

  Eric Bates pushed through the crowd, smiled and waved. Elly slithered back to her seat as Rory grimaced, whispering, “Here comes the good father.”

  Jeremy glared at him.

  “Uncle Eric!” Evan ran in front of Katherine, blocking Eric’s path. “Holly and Beth invited me for the puppet show and ice cream, but Mummy said that I must ask Mrs. Bates if it’s all right”

  Eric shrugged. “Of course, dear boy. Mrs. Bates handles the girls’ social engagements. You will have to ask her.” He moved Evan gently aside and continued toward Katherine. She glanced over his shoulder and signalled a warning. Eric spun around and saw his wife standing in the doorway, holding a ledger book and glaring through the crowd.

  Jeremy had known Hilda Bates for a dozen years. Her grim expression and colourless wardrobe reminded him of an evil school mistress. Her hair was always tied back and her face scrubbed clean. Hilda loathed Katherine and Evan, barely tolerated Jeremy, but was the financial brain of their theatre company. Eric took the credit, but everyone knew Hilda’s management kept them afloat. Occasionally, she joined members of the company for a meal. Tonight she would not. Eric shrugged sadly and plodded wearily back.

  Evan boldly darted through the obstacle course of chairs and people, straight up to the scowling Hilda. “Mrs. Bates, Holly and Beth invited me for the puppet show and ice cream, but…” Snubbing him completely, Hilda turned on her heel and left the pub.

  Evan came back to Katherine and hung his head. “I tried, Mummy.”

  “You did very well, darling. Better ask her tomorrow. She’ll be less cross after she’s totaled the receipts.” Like a dejected puppy, Evan slowly climbed back onto his chair.

  Jeremy stood and offered his chair. “Sit down, Katie. I’ll find another.” As he slid past her, their familiar bodies rubbed against each other. She kissed his cheek in passing. He managed another step, then stopped when he saw actor Owen Freeman, dark and handsome, sail through the door, thrusting his way toward Katherine.

  When she turned her back on Owen, pursing her lips in distaste, Jeremy quietly scolded, “Now, now, Katie, be a good girl. Since the poor chap pleases you so well between the sheets, the least you can do is listen to his intellectual drivel over a glass of wine.”

  Katherine stifled a laugh. “I love you, Jerry.” She squeezed his hand, then smiled at Owen and pushed her way into the next room. Owen politely nodded to Jeremy and followed Katherine.

  Evan pointed to the bar, covered with filled glasses. “Timmy needs a hand.” He ran to help serve.

  Elly asked, “Who are Beth and Holly?

  Lester answered, “Mr. Bates’s daughters.”

  Rory snickered, “Evan’s sisters.”

  Jeremy slammed his hand on the table and stared daggers. Whatever Rory felt about Katherine’s long-ago affair with Eric Bates, he was not going to voice it in Jeremy’s presence.

  Chapter 5

  By the time Lester, Todd, Elly, Rory, and Jeremy buttoned their coats and left the pub, the air was fresh and frigid. Rory let the other apprentices hurry past.

  Jeremy studied the sky. “‘Not from the stars do I my judgment pluck; And yet methinks I have astronomy…’ Forget something, Mr. Cook?”

  Shivering, Rory crossed his arms and stamped his feet. “No sir, it’s just such a lovely night. I thought I might walk a bit.”

  Jeremy wondered what Rory wanted this time. “Really? It’s bloody cold. Very well, if you must walk, you can walk with me.” The streetlights made grotesquely long shadows as they continued up Haymarket.

  When they turned onto Panton Street, Rory broke the silence. “Forgive me, sir. I may have spoken out of turn, earlier, but everyone knows about Evan being Mr. Bates’s…”

  Jeremy tensed, but kept walking.

  “If Miss Fielding stays, she’s sure to hear of it from someone, so I didn’t think it mattered.if I…” Jeremy stared straight ahead and continued walking.

  Now, Rory was frantic. “Evan’s the most marvelous boy. He’s terribly lucky having

  you. I wish my father cared a-quarter-as-much for me.”

  Jeremy glanced sideways.

  Encouraged that he had Jeremy’s attention, Rory breathlessly continued. “I just think Evan deserves better than a real father who barely tolerates him and a mother who keeps…”

  Jeremy spun to face him. “A mother who… What?”

  Shocked, Rory’s mouth went dry. “Well sir… It is no secret that Miss Stewart has a dozen gentlemen calling every week. Some nights, her dressing-room is a veritable flower shop. She receives lavish gifts, even jewels.”

  Jeremy spoke without emotion. “She is a great actress with a huge following. Do you find fault with that?”

  “Not at all, except that she doesn’t care for any of the men who court her.”

  “And how would you know who she cares for? Are you privy to her private thoughts?”

  “No, sir, but I see these men at the stage door. Wealthy, powerful men. Foreigners, sometimes.”

  “And how often do you see her leave the theatre with these men?”

  He stopped to think. “I have never seen her, but she must…”

  “You have never seen her, because she refuses all invitations.”

  “What about Owen Freeman? He’s my friend, so I know he loves her -- worships her, in fact. She t
reats him like a lapdog, petting him one moment, then putting him out for the night.”

  “Mr. Freeman is a different story altogether.” Jeremy picked up his pace.

  “But, why does she even bother with him? A blind man can see she only cares for you, and why do you call her Katie? All her other friends call her Kathy. Mr. Bates called her Katie once, she didn’t like it.”

  Jeremy stopped. “The name is no secret. As a child, she was called Kathy. When we first met, I thought the name too compliant. I called her Katie, instead.”

  “Was that before Evan?”

  “Years before Evan.”

  “But, if she was with you, how could she have been with…”

  “Enough questions!” More tired than angry, Jeremy exhaled a cloud of slow mist.

  Rory shoved his hands into his pockets and stayed close to Jeremy’s side. “Please sir. I respect you both so terribly much. I just want to understand you, to see how you live. I don’t really know who you are.”

  “Few people do.” Jeremy walked on and Rory followed.

  “I have never known anyone like you, respected anyone the way I respect you, needed the respect of anyone as much as I need yours.”

  Jeremy stopped short. “You have my total respect; surely you know that, and my affection.”

  “I know nothing of the kind. Most days you seem to hate me.” His voice tightened. “I gave up everything to study with you--my home, my family, my inheritance. You wanted me to stay at Oxford. You told me not to come. It was totally my decision and I’m not sorry. I’d do it again. It’s been wonderful.”

  Jeremy looked down at Rory, exhausted and nearly in tears. “You don’t look as though it has been wonderful. I have done my best to make it hell.”

  “It’s been terribly hard. I’ve never been so tired, or dirty, or hungry, but I’ve also never been challenged the way you challenge me. You never let me relax.” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “You force me to do my best, every moment. I’ve hated you for it, and I…” He gasped for air. “I love you for it.” Cheeks burning, he turned away.