The Captain's Daughter

by Jennifer Delamere

  Nate knew he’d been unreasonable in his attitude toward Ada. He knew he was allowing his personal pain to overwhelm his Christian calling to forgive. The many trials his family had faced over the years and the grueling challenges he’d endured in the army had all been easier than admitting that, somehow, he’d come up short in proving his worth—both to Ada and as a soldier. He hadn’t wanted to face either of those facts. But perhaps it was time.

  Patrick did not speak again until the driver had mounted the cab and taken it away. “So you’ll speak with her, right?” he said calmly as the dust settled in the stable yard.

  Nate’s mouth went dry, and he felt the sickening mix of restlessness and nausea that always ran through him before a battle. Even the onslaught of enemy soldiers would be more welcome than what he knew he had to do.

  He gave a long, resigned sigh. “Yes.”

  Rosalyn stepped out the door of the boardinghouse and down the front steps to the sidewalk. It was her first time alone on these streets since she’d ended up at the Opera Comique. But the city did not seem so threatening now. Although the air was cold, the sky was clear and there was little wind.

  She had two pennies Jessie had given her—Rosalyn had insisted it was only a loan—which was enough to post her letter to Julia and have change to spare. At the end of the street, the post office stood just where Jessie had described it. Rosalyn went inside and posted the letter. Things seemed brighter to her today than yesterday. She had written that letter before the unexpected visits from Tony and the Morans. But the letter was sealed, and she would just have to send it unchanged. She knew Julia would take the news in stride, odd and alarming as it was. No one was more unflappable than her sister.

  Her next stop was the pawnshop she’d seen yesterday. She stepped inside to find the place bustling with people. At least half a dozen women were holding nice gowns to be pawned. She attempted to move past them to get to a harried-looking woman writing pawn tickets at the front counter.

  “You’ll have to wait your turn,” said the woman.

  “I just want to look at your watches,” Rosalyn answered. “I’m not here to pawn anything.”

  “Well, if that’s the case, come have a look.” She waved Rosalyn forward. “Mondays is our busiest day,” she explained as Rosalyn began to examine the items in the glass case. “Everyone pawns their Sunday dresses.”

  Rosalyn had never set foot in a pawnshop, so she had little knowledge of their trade. “Is that normal?”

  “Oh, yes. Gives them a few pennies for the week. They’ll all be back on Saturday.”

  Rosalyn could see now that the women were waiting to speak to a man in the back room. He was visible through the half-open door, doling out coins to a customer.

  It didn’t take long for Rosalyn to determine that the watch she sought was not among the articles on display. The clerk gave her the names of several other shops in the area but didn’t know of anyone named Simon.

  Rosalyn thanked her and left the shop. She’d not really expected to find the watch so quickly, but at least she’d made a start.

  Nate walked along the busy thoroughfare, still out of sorts from his conversation with Patrick. He was so intent on his own thoughts that he barely paid heed to his steps. It didn’t matter. He knew the way by heart. Day after day he took this walk to the theater, not wanting to spend money on the omnibus even when he was dead tired from working at the stable. He didn’t know when he would meet with Ada. Now that he’d given his word, he knew he ought to do it soon, but working day and night left little time for anything else.

  He was only a block or so from the theater when the steady beating of drums registered in his thoughts. When he became fully cognizant of the sound, he paused, listening. The drumbeats were growing louder, joined by the measured pace of men marching together. Nate hurried to the street corner just in time to see a regiment advancing down the thoroughfare.

  It was a sight Nate knew well. These men were probably on their way to the train station, and from there to the ships that would take them to foreign lands. Just as Nate had done once—and would do again, he reminded himself.

  People on the sidewalks paused to watch, and some shouted or cheered. In Nate’s experience, the people of England did not think of their soldiers much, except at times like these or whenever the news of some battle reached them via the newspapers. This was a time for them to show their patriotism, and they heartily expressed it.

  As the soldiers marched by, Nate saw that a few looked pensive, but many were smiling, appreciative of the attention of the crowd. One soldier briefly caught Nate’s eye and gave a cheerful smile as he passed.

  That will be me before long, Nate thought. In a few months he would be on the march, joining his regiment as they prepared to sail for India. As far as Nate was concerned, it couldn’t come too soon.

  Jessie led Rosalyn down the hall to the business offices of the theater. “We should tread lightly, I think. I overheard that Mr. Gilbert and Mr. Sullivan are meeting with Mr. Carte today. They’re working out the last-minute details of our trip to America.”

  Sure enough, as they passed a door labeled Mr. Richard D’Oyly Carte, they heard men talking. The door was open a crack, enough for their voices to be heard.

  “Don’t worry, the libretto for Pirates will be done in plenty of time,” Mr. Gilbert was saying. “I have broken the neck of act two, and it’s all downhill from there.”

  “But you must give me time to score it,” Mr. Sullivan answered. “I hardly think that qualifies as going downhill.”

  Jessie and Rosalyn both stifled giggles as they hurried down the hall.

  When they reached a closed door marked Miss Lenoir, Jessie rapped soundly upon it.

  “Come!” a female voice answered without hesitation.

  Jessie opened the door and swept Rosalyn into the room before her. “Here is the answer to our problem,” she announced without even offering a proper greeting.

  The slight, neatly dressed woman seated behind a large desk had paused in the act of writing when Rosalyn and Jessie entered. She carefully set her pen aside, and after a brief, appraising glance at Rosalyn, turned a slightly ironic smile on Jessie. “I really must thank you for turning your attention to our pressing issues. It does make my work so much easier. Can you tell me what problem we have solved now?”

  Her Scottish lilt instantly revealed her nationality, and the tartan colors woven as decoration on her gown confirmed it. She could not yet have reached her thirtieth birthday, yet she had the commanding presence of someone much older. The entire office was clean and orderly, with everything in its place. A reflection of its businesslike occupant, perhaps. But the gentle teasing in her tone hinted at a softer side, as well.

  “And whose acquaintance do I have the honor of making?”

  “This is Rosalyn Bernay. She’s lately arrived in London and is looking for work. I’m recommending her for the position of dresser.”

  Miss Lenoir looked Rosalyn over, her gaze curious but polite. “Are you the waif who was found on our doorstep and filled in so admirably for Lilly on Saturday night?”

  Rosalyn felt her eyes widen in surprise. Next to her, Jessie chuckled. “Nothing gets past you, does it, Miss Lenoir?”

  “Well, I should hope not,” she replied with a smile. “Mr. Giles and Millie keep me informed of the comings and goings around here.”

  Rosalyn would never have described herself as a waif—certainly not since she was ten. But she said only, “I’m glad to hear that others have spoken well of me. I always try my best with whatever task is set before me.”

  “Nicely said.” Miss Lenoir continued to look her over. Rosalyn met her gaze without flinching, for it was not unfriendly, merely calm and appraising. “Do you have any experience in the theater, Miss Bernay?”

  Rosalyn swallowed a lump in her throat. “No, ma’am.”

  “She was a lady’s companion for five years,” Jessie interposed. “A very fine lady.”

 
; “Let Miss Bernay speak, Jessie.” Miss Lenoir turned back to Rosalyn. “Miss Bernay, what would you say makes you qualified to work here? In your own words,” she added with an amused glance at Jessie.

  “Perhaps at first glance there might not appear much to recommend me,” Rosalyn answered honestly, “but I believe the work I did Saturday shows I can properly assist the ladies with whatever help they require. I can keep the rooms clean and organized. I’m good with a needle, too, so I can help if any of the costumes should need mending.”

  “So you see, she’s perfect!” Jessie enthused.

  Miss Lenoir nodded thoughtfully. “With Lilly gone, we certainly have an immediate need, which it appears you can fill.” She took another moment to consider Rosalyn. “I do have to be honest with you, Miss Bernay, and I hope you will do me the same favor in return.”

  “Yes?”

  “You seem to come from a respectable background, and yet you arrived at our theater jobless and hungry. Can you explain to me why that is? I do not make a habit of prying into other people’s affairs, but everything that happens here is my affair. I have a responsibility to hire only workers who are trustworthy and reliable.”

  Rosalyn knew she was trustworthy and reliable—no matter what lies Mr. Huffman might spread about her. What if he should find her and his accusations become known to the management of this theater? Then she would appear to be a liar as well as a thief.

  “She’s here through no fault of her own,” insisted Jessie.

  “If that’s true, you can be sure that whatever you tell me will not go beyond this room. But you understand why I need to know.”

  Rosalyn nodded. She realized that, after all, she had nothing to lose—except this temporary foothold that, tenuous as it was, she wished to retain. She told Miss Lenoir everything, laying out the details just as she had for Jessie.

  Miss Lenoir did not interrupt but listened quietly, showing sympathy at Rosalyn’s sudden need for flight, consternation at her deception by Mrs. Hurdle, and commiseration at the theft of her belongings. When Rosalyn reached the part where Mr. Gilbert saw her through the theater window, Jessie took over and finished the tale, relating breathlessly all that had happened since then.

  “So you see why I say that her problems are not of her own making,” Jessie finished.

  Miss Lenoir leaned back in her chair and regarded them both. “I understand now why you decided to make Miss Bernay your personal project, Jessie.”

  “Yes. You know how I feel about men who force their attentions on women.”

  “I do. And I flatter myself that, after years of experience in the theater, I can tell the difference between truth and acting. Miss Bernay, I do not believe you are telling us some tall tale. But don’t you think it would be better to face your accuser and state your case before an impartial judge?”

  “What man could be impartial?” Jessie exclaimed. “You know he would take the man’s side.”

  “You were able to find an impartial judge,” Miss Lenoir returned, promptly but not unkindly.

  She caught Jessie without an answer for that one. Jessie stared at her dumbly for several moments.

  Miss Lenoir went on, “But that is not relevant to the topic at hand.” She turned her attention Rosalyn. “You are looking for a job. I am willing to offer you one. We’ll start you at five shillings per week.”

  For Rosalyn, this was a happy surprise. The salary was far less than she had received from her former employer but still more than she was expecting. Surely she could live on that amount if she were very careful?

  Miss Lenoir extended her right hand across the desk. “Do we have a deal?”

  Next to her, Rosalyn heard Jessie emit a tiny squeal of delight. Rosalyn reached out her hand and shook Miss Lenoir’s. “It will be a pleasure to work here, I’m sure.”

  “You might revise that statement once you spend a week with the fussy ladies in the chorus.” Once again, Rosalyn heard the teasing in Miss Lenoir’s voice. “But I will accept it for now.” She opened a drawer and pulled out a small purse. “And here is sixpence for the work you did on Saturday.”

  Rosalyn accepted the money, grateful that her first night’s work had been rewarded.

  “Now, if you ladies will excuse me, there are some vendors’ invoices that I must attend to.”

  Jessie and Rosalyn stood up. Rosalyn said, “Thank you so much, Miss Lenoir. I promise you will not regret hiring me.”

  “I’m sure you will work out fine. However, I do hope you will give some thought to my suggestion. It’s a problem you may not want to leave hanging over your head.”

  Rosalyn nodded but could think of nothing to say. The specter of what Mr. Huffman might do seemed real only when she was forced to talk about it. Perhaps it was wrong of her, but she found it far easier to keep it pushed to the back of her mind, as though that alone could guarantee her safety.

  Nate was heading backstage when he saw Rosalyn walking with Jessie down the adjoining hallway. He paused, waiting for them to reach him.

  Rosalyn was looking a bit stunned, but Nate supposed she must be happy, as well, for Jessie was saying, “I told you Miss Lenoir would understand. She’s a softhearted one deep down, even though she runs this place like the army.”

  Nate couldn’t resist responding to that. “Like the army? This crew of coddled children?”

  Jessie gave him an arch look. “We work very hard, I assure you.”

  “As does the crew,” Rosalyn pointed out.

  “And by ‘crew,’ are you now referring to yourself, as well?” Nate inquired, although he was sure he already knew the answer.

  Pleasure lit up her face. “Yes, I suppose I am.” She looked down at her hand, and Nate saw a sixpence coin in it. Returning her gaze to Nate, she said, “Would you have a moment for me to ask you about something?”

  “Of course.”

  He wondered if Jessie would raise some objection, now that Rosalyn seemed to be her protégé, but she merely nodded and said, “Good luck. See you upstairs.” She flashed a meaningful glance at Rosalyn and walked away. Some message had passed between them, but Nate could only guess at what it was.

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t accept your invitation yesterday,” Rosalyn said, giving Nate an embarrassed smile. “I hope you understand. I wanted to accept, but I didn’t feel right about leaving. And, of course, I didn’t want to offend Tony, either.”

  Nate could have done without that last observation, but he let it pass. “What is it you wanted to speak to me about?”

  “It’s about that charity house. Do you think they will still take me in? I need someplace to live, and soon. Jessie’s landlady seems to think I’m a shady character.”

  “Is it because of what happened yesterday?” As far as Nate was concerned, anything disparaging thrown on Rosalyn’s character was more the fault of Hayes, for having the effrontery to visit her alone.

  “There’s more to it than that,” she answered sadly.

  Although Nate still didn’t know what had brought her to London, he found it hard to believe she was the kind of woman who could be turned away from respectable lodgings. But he merely said, “I think that particular landlady suspects everyone of being a shady character.”

  She smiled at his joke, but the troubled look did not entirely leave her eyes.

  “Why don’t you come to my house tomorrow afternoon?” Nate said impulsively. “My mother and sister help out quite a bit with the charity house. They can give you all the details and advice you need.”

  “Thank you.”

  He had no idea how he was going to manage an afternoon away from the stable, but seeing the relief on Rosalyn’s face, he knew he would find a way.

  CHAPTER

  11

  ROSALYN WAS JUST about to mount the steps to the women’s dressing rooms when she heard Tony call her name. She paused, waiting, as he bounded up to her.

  “How lovely to see you again! Does this mean you’ve become a permanent member of our ha
ppy band?”

  “Yes, although I confess I’m a little nervous. I know I have a lot to learn.”

  “Don’t waste a moment worrying. This show is simple—although there is one rather tricky costume change toward the end, when Ralph and the captain exchange clothes. They have to have a man help them with that, of course. However, it does take place backstage rather than upstairs, so if you want some instruction on how a quick costume change is done, you might want to take a peek behind the set.”

  “Oh, I couldn’t do that,” Rosalyn protested.

  Then she saw the glint in his eye. Yesterday he’d said a few risqué things, too. It seemed to be his nature.

  She gave him her best disapproving look. “Mr. Hayes, that sounds rather too shocking.”

  “What a perfectly awful face!” Tony cried, laughing. “For a moment you looked exactly like my old Aunt Hilda. But only for a moment, for you are far more beautiful than she ever was.”

  “Thank you, I’m sure.” Rosalyn could not say why she enjoyed this banter so much. It flirted on the edge of being scandalous, but she could see no real harm in it.

  “I so enjoyed singing with you yesterday,” Tony said. “Shall we do it again soon? How about tomorrow, say, an hour before call time? We can go up to the rehearsal room and sing there.”

  “Is that . . . allowed?”

  “Why wouldn’t it be?”

  Rosalyn couldn’t answer that.

  “As I told you yesterday, I think you have real talent. You should consider a career on the stage.”

  “No, I surely couldn’t,” she objected. But inside, a small part of her thrilled at the thought.

  He wrapped an arm through hers. “Never say never, my dear. For the moment, why don’t we take an hour and enjoy singing together?”

  “That does sound lovely,” she admitted. “I can’t do it tomorrow, though.”

  “All right then, how about Wednesday?” he pressed.

  Rosalyn thought this over. If all went well, she would be moving to new lodgings on Wednesday. She would need time to get her bearings. “Would Friday be all right?” she countered.