Ice and Embers (Regency Redezvous Book 10)

by Melanie Karsak

  “Is that…Is that made of ice?” I asked, unable to stop myself.

  The boy smiled. “Indeed.”

  “But how?”

  “Magic, of course,” the boy replied with a wink then waved for me to follow him to the captain’s quarters. When he reached the door, he knocked.

  At first, there was no answer. I heard muffled voices and movement inside. I frowned, conscious that time was passing quickly. I needed to get back soon. Maybe I should have come later.

  The boy knocked again. “Captain? Doctor Murray’s friend is here.”

  The voices on the other side of the door fell silent.

  A moment later, a man in a wolf pelt coat opened the door. He gave me a hard look which unnerved me. I looked around him hoping to catch sight of Kai. I spotted Kai’s boots.

  “Doctor Murray?” I called.

  The man at the door frowned then stepped aside to let me in.

  The cabin within was nothing like what I expected. Rather than finding a captain’s lodging complete with a table, desk, or rough cot, the room was very finely appointed with rich furniture. Colorful tapestries hung on the walls and bear furs covered the floor. The furniture appeared to have been made by artisans with great craft, each piece adorned with figures and old Celtic knots. Even the moulding around the ceiling had been carved to look like a line of leaves. The room was warm and softly perfumed like lavender. In the midst of this unexpected scene was Kai who was wrapping a bandage around a strikingly beautiful woman’s ankle. The woman, I realized, was staring at me. She had long, curly dark hair, wide dark eyes, and red lips. Her face was very pale and so perfect she looked like she’d been carved of marble. She wore a green gown trimmed with ermine. She’d pulled up her dress to her knee, a scandalous amount of leg exposed.

  “Doctor Murray?” I said again, calling to Kai who still, or so it seemed, had not noticed me.

  “Doctor, your friend is here,” the woman said then smirked. The strange expression on her face froze my heart. Her look was full of so much unexpected malice it surprised me.

  Kai stopped and looked up at me. “Miss McKenna? What are you doing here?”

  The sharpness of his question confused me. “I thought…I wondered…I just wanted to see if you need anything. Can I can assist you?”

  Kai frowned in confusion, his forehead furrowing.

  “Doctor Murray has been very good to me. You see,” the woman said, waving to her ankle. “I twisted my ankle while skating.”

  “Oh, I thought the boy said the captain was injured,” I replied, realizing then that no one had introduced me to the woman.

  “I am the captain,” she replied.

  I choked down a gasp. “My apologies, Captain. Are you…are you well now?”

  The woman huffed then suppressed a sneer. “So, you are the actress everyone is talking about. The girl who plays at being the faerie queen.”

  The man in the wolf pelt chuckled.

  “I’m Miss Elyse McKenna,” I said, looking toward Kai. Why was he being so rude? I hated when Kai was so focused on his work that he forgot his manners. “I’m an actress at the Ice House Theatre. We normally perform at Struthers Theatre but have come for the Frost Fair.”

  “You don’t look like I thought you would,” she said then rolled her eyes toward her companion. “He oversold her a bit, I think.”

  The man sniggered.

  Having had enough of the captain who clearly had the manners of a pirate, I turned to Kai. “Doctor Murray, do you need any assistance or are you finished here?”

  Kai paused then looked up at me. “Elyse? What? No…no…I think I’m almost done,” he said, looking confused.

  “Excellent. Then I’ll see you at this morning’s show.” I ladened my voice with unspoken words, hoping Kai would take the hint that he really ought to get out of there, but he didn’t look back.

  I bobbed a curtsey to the captain. “I wish you a speedy recovery, Captain,” I said. “And I hope that the ice melts soon.”

  “That, at least, is something I can agree upon.”

  I curtseyed again then turned to exit.

  The gentleman in wolf furs held the door for me.

  Without another word, I left.

  Outside, the little boy sat on the deck of the ship listening to the musicians. The ice flute produced such an unusual sounding reel. The music had such a lovely sound and vibration to it. It was enchanting. Despite the sour mood that had settled over me, the beautiful music was delightful. When the boy spotted me, he stood up.

  “This way, Miss. Careful on the plank. The ice is slippery,” he said. Taking me gently by the elbow, he led me across the deck of the ship and down the plank.

  The skaters still spun as we passed. The boy walked me back to the lane closest to the tents.

  “Thank you,” I said, smiling down at him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

  “Robin.”

  “Robin. Thank you, Robin. And your captain…I’m afraid Doctor Murray was so busy he forgot his manners. I was unable to learn your captain’s name.”

  “Captain Behra.”

  “Captain Behra,” I repeated. “Very good. Thank you, Robin.”

  “Miss,” he said with a bow then turned and headed back toward the ship.

  Frustrated, and feeling more ill-at-ease than ever, I headed back toward the theatre. At least there, I knew my place. At least there, I knew who I was. I was no one and everyone. And right now, getting lost to who I was sounded like a very good thing.

  Chapter Ten

  When I arrived at the Ice House Theatre, the patrons were already being seated for the pantomime of Hades and Persephone. I passed Marion as I headed toward my section of the large tent behind our makeshift stage. She was dressed in my Persephone costume, looking like the perfect image of spring, silk flowers in her hair, wearing a belt of ivy. She carried a pair of dancing slippers, my dancing slippers.

  “Marion…those are not part of the costume. They actually belong to me. They were a gift.”

  She looked down at the slippers. I could see the wash of confusion then frustration pass over her face. “These old things? I almost left them, ragged as they are. I thought Marve had assigned them for the costume. I don’t care about your precious slippers, Elyse.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek then said. “It’s just that they were—”

  “A gift. I heard you. I have my own slippers anyway, and not old rags like these,” she said, practically tossing the ballet shoes to me. She turned toward her own section of the tent.

  I clutched my pale pink ballet slippers. She was right. They were old and ragged, but they were also a gift from my grandmother. She’d bought me the pair when I’d joined the company five years back.

  I hugged the slippers to my chest then went to my station and sat down. The tent was heated by braziers, the floor strewn with hay for warmth. Partitions offered a little privacy. I slipped off my cloak, shivering in the cold, then began working on my hair. For the faerie godmother, I would pull it up in a bun to create a different effect from Titania who wore long, loose locks trimmed with feathers, flowers, and sparkles. I wouldn’t use the glimmer cream either. Instead, I’d seek to look more matronly.

  As I worked my hair, I heard the sound of trumpets and flutes marking the beginning of the show. My heartbeat quickened and once more I felt deeply annoyed with Marion. With so many important people on the ice this morning, she’d stolen my chance.

  For the good of the troupe.

  For the good of the troupe.

  I reminded myself over and over again.

  The pantomime of Hades and Persephone finished within an hour. By the time it was done, I had transformed myself once again into a faerie. Rather than Titania, I was the benevolent faerie godmother ready to bestow gifts on the sweet cinder maid.

  I heard the applause from the crowd. The performance had been well-received, and from the sound of it, the crowd was quite large.

  It would take a fe
w moments to change the set.

  Giving my hair one last look, I grabbed the faerie godmother’s wand and headed out of the tent to the backstage area.

  Lizzie, dressed as the cinder girl, Amy as one of the stepsisters, Hannah as a second stepsister, and Agnes as the stepmother, prepared to take the stage alongside Robert who would play the father who perished in act one, leaving Lizzie to the cruel care of her stepmother.

  “Elyse, you look lovely,” Lizzie said, smiling at me. “Is that really the same costume?”

  I nodded. “I removed the wings, and added a shawl,” I said, motioning to the soft pink wrap.

  “Marion tripped…twice,” she whispered, leaning toward me.

  “They made it look like part of the act,” Amy added, clearly clued into the gossip.

  I forced myself not to smile then chided myself for my pettiness. “How is the crowd?” I asked, winking knowingly to Lizzie as I changed the subject.

  “Elyse, you’re too good,” Hannah said with a giggle.

  “Not really. I’m just trying to be good,” I replied.

  The girls chuckled.

  “The crowd is bigger than last night,” Robert said. “It’s…there are a lot of lords and ladies in attendance.”

  This made Lizzie and Amy go silent.

  “No matter, girls,” Agnes said. “We’ll do our best no matter the manner of the crowd.”

  “But they…these fine folk usually go to the big theatres. They’ll be expecting…” Amy began but trailed off.

  “We are all very fine actors,” I said reassuringly. “Simply because we didn’t have connections to get us into a grand playhouse does not mean we lack in skill. All of us are masters at our craft. We know our work. We will, as always, transport them,” I said, sounding more confident than I felt. In reality, I had never even practiced the role of the faerie godmother. I knew the lines, and I’d seen the marks, but had not practiced them. My stomach quaked.

  Lizzie, Amy, and Hannah looked reassured. Robert and Agnes nodded to me.

  Flutes sounded once more and the others headed out on stage.

  Robert went to the front and began to address the audience as the prologue.

  “In a fine chateau lived a gentleman of means with a loving wife and a fair daughter who was a mirror reflection of her mother. Tragically, the young wife died, but the gentleman—that is me—found a new love. Upon his marriage, he returned once more to his country estate to introduce his new wife, and her daughters, to his blessed child. The rest, as they say…” he said, and here I knew he would flourish his arm toward the stage behind him as a harp sounded in time. The curtain drew back to reveal the actresses.

  “My dear family,” Robert said. I caught just a glimpse of him as he passed across the stage holding a letter. “My travel is set. I am to leave on the ‘morrow. What can I bring you all upon my return?”

  “Jewels!” Hannah shouted.

  “Silk, gowns, ribbons,” Amy shouted.

  “A hat of the new fashion,” Agnes added.

  Robert laughed. “Girls, girls, I shall endeavor to do my best. But what of my Ella? What would you like, my dear?”

  “Bring me…bring me the first branch that touches your hat on your way home to me,” Lizzie said with such earnest sweetness that I raised my eyebrows. She was playing her best that morning.

  At that, the other actresses laughed meanly. Marion had certainly missed her calling, I thought then turned and looked through a crack in the wood at the audience. I scanned over the benches which were crowded with fine lords and ladies. They watched attentively, lost in one of their favorite tales. I looked for a familiar green coat in the crowd. Finally, I spotted him. John stood toward the rear of the audience with two other young men who looked familiar. I smiled when I saw him, my heart quickening. Oh no! He’d come to see my Persephone but found Marion instead.

  I bit my bottom lip then looked for Kai. He was not beside the brazier where he’d been standing last night. In fact, I didn’t see him anywhere. His manner had been so odd. Was the injury worse than it looked? Maybe he was so fixed on setting her ankle to right that he’d forgotten himself. It wasn’t unusual for him to be distracted with a patient, but it was unusual for him to be rude. Had Kai ever been rude to me before? I couldn’t remember a time.

  Robert passed me as he left the stage, and the harp fluttered as the scene changed.

  “Dead already?” I whispered.

  Robert nodded. “Now to get a pint or two before faerie time,” he said with a wink then left.

  I watched John as he stood with his fellows. They spoke in low tones, smiling and jostling one another. Who were these other young gentlemen? They seemed quiet…jovial. Were they simply merry or were they intoxicated? I scanned the crowd once more. My eyes stopped, however, when I spotted the fine foreign gentleman. He stood in the middle of the crowd, seemingly unaware of the crush of people around him. Both of his hands rested on his walking stick in front of him as he watched the tale unfold.

  I smiled. He really was very handsome. His features were fine, not a hint of a beard on him, his lips curving perfectly.

  Even as I thought it, the gentleman’s gaze shifted. He turned and looked at me. He smiled.

  Gasping, I leaned back from the open cranny in the slab.

  “Cinderwench!”

  “Cinderella!”

  I turned back toward the stage and watched as the tragedy unfolded. Her father lost, left to the devices of her stepmother, Ella’s life began to crumble. The play moved forward, and finally, fate had bruised Cinderella enough.

  Alone on stage, Lizzie wept with her head in her arms before a mock fireplace. “Oh, mother. Oh, father. Oh, wicked fate,” she wailed.

  Holding my wand, I moved nimbly, floating onto the stage with a dancer’s grace. Skippy strummed the harp lightly, a tinkling of sound enchanting the space.

  The audience held its breath.

  Moving carefully, I let myself dissolve into the character. I let myself feel the godmother’s concern, love, and pity for the sweet maiden. I also felt a little sting of anger, wanting to take revenge on the jealous stepmother and sisters.

  “Like an airy spirit, I

  Granting wishes as I pass by

  How now, sweet young thing

  A face far fairer than the spring

  Do not weep, do not cry

  Let me, your faerie godmother, dry thy eye.”

  “Did you say…did you say faerie godmother?” Lizzie, as Ella, asked with a sniff. She sat up and looked at me, wiping real tears from her eyes. Impressive.

  I smiled nicely and curtseyed to her.

  “Do not despair, my precious dear.

  Your faerie godmother is now here

  And to the ball, you’ll swiftly go

  A maiden more of joy than woe.”

  And on we went. A pumpkin, four stuffed mice, two clay lizards, a gown, and a pair of glittery shoes later, my scene ended, and Lizzie was off to the ball.

  As I made my exit, I heard a whistle from the back of the crowd. I looked back to see John smiling and clapping for me. His chaps grinned from him to me.

  I cast my eyes across the audience once more.

  Kai had not come.

  The foreign gentleman, however, inclined his head to me.

  Blushing, I headed backstage to wait until the final curtain call.

  “Well done,” Marve whispered. “And don’t worry. We’ll have you back as Persephone tomorrow. Marion was a disaster.”

  Behind us, someone cleared their throat.

  It was Marion.

  “Ah, Marion,” Marve said, a guilty look crossing his face.

  “I wanted to talk to you about my costume in Midwinter’s wedding scene,” she said, frowning. It was clear she heard but was pretending she had not.

  Marve nodded to me then headed to the backstage tent with Marion.

  I smiled as I watched Lizzie in the ballroom scene. Her dazzling blue and gold ball gown shimmered in the morning
sunlight. Her curls, twisted into ringlets, bounced nicely as she and her prince danced.

  I peered out at the audience through the crack in the wood once more. The ladies’ eyes sparkled with delight as they saw the cinder girl win her prince at the ball. Alas, when the clock struck twelve, Cinderella had to flee, her slipper left behind.

  James, playing the role of the prince, searched desperately for the girl with the glass slipper. The ladies in the audience winced, hiding their faces in their fur muffs as the stepsisters sliced off their toes to try to fit their feet into the dainty slipper. One lady swooned when Amy took a knife to her toes, dropping a red handkerchief filled with wooden toes onto the stage. Despite Amy’s and Hannah’s best efforts, they could not fit the shoe that I had created just for the cinder girl.

  “Perhaps I can try,” Lizzie said demurely.

  Hannah and Amy laughed.

  James slid the slipper on Lizzie’s dainty foot.

  “A perfect fit,” he said with a gasp.

  At that, Lizzie slid on her second slipper and was led off stage, leaving Hannah and Amy to weep. Lizzie quickly stripped off the cinder girl’s humble frock and slid on a wedding gown. I hurriedly laced the back while Agnes tidied her hair and set a ring of flowers on her head.

  The others exited the other side of the stage and soon the wedding march sounded. Remodeled into a bride, Lizzie and James joined hands and took the stage. With a few sweet words and kisses, the play ended

  It had gone well, but I was very glad it was done. I spied out the crack once more. John and his companions were gone. Perhaps he was waiting at the back? My heart beat a little harder. Surely he would not leave again. I scanned around for Kai. Neither he nor the foreign gentleman were anywhere to be seen.

  Suddenly, I was all out of suitors.

  I chuckled, chiding myself. Kai was, most certainly, not a suitor.

  And the foreign gentleman? Well, maybe next time it wouldn’t hurt to ask his name.

  Once the story concluded, we waited for a final curtain call. Then, at last, we would break until the evening’s performance. I’d have a whole day to spend with John, assuming he hadn’t run into any emergency errands again. But even as I thought it, I knew I was being unfair. After all, his father was ill. But if his father was ill, why was he in London rather than at their home in Twickenham? I frowned.