The Captain's Daughter

by Jennifer Delamere

  With her mother’s instinct, Hannah had arrived just in time. Tommy had awoken and was beginning to fidget, on the verge of crying for his next meal. Nate excused himself as Hannah crossed the room to take the baby in her arms.

  Although he had cut the conversation with his brother short, he did not stop thinking of it as he mounted the stairs to his room.

  He sat on his bed and pulled off his boots. There was no point changing out of his clothes, as he had less than two hours before he had to leave for the stables. He was pretty sure he was going to spend that time thinking about Rosalyn.

  Hearing her speak about how much she loved the theater only confirmed his belief that he was doing the right thing. Even if Nate could stay in England—which he couldn’t—she had her own dreams to pursue, and they wouldn’t include him.

  He knew full well by now that when a woman got her heart set on anything, he hadn’t a chance in all eternity of changing her mind.

  CHAPTER

  17

  FOR ROSALYN, the next several weeks flew by in a haze of activity. The theater was gearing up for the Christmas season, including a special children’s production of Pinafore to run in the afternoons. Rosalyn had been tapped to help with that, too, and found it immensely fun. She marveled at how well the children could sing and act at such a young age. They ranged from perhaps six to twelve or thirteen years old. Watching them rehearse, she imagined what it might have been like if they’d put on plays at Ashley Down. Maybe someday she would go back and see if they were interested in arranging such a production. They would put it on just for themselves, of course, but she guessed that the children would love it.

  One evening just before the show, Miss Lenoir surprised them by entering the dressing room. Next to Rosalyn, Helen muttered under her breath, “Oh no.”

  By now, Rosalyn knew the reason for Helen’s disgruntlement. Miss Lenoir typically didn’t come upstairs unless there was something important—and usually bad—to announce.

  “Everyone will please remain onstage after the show tonight,” Miss Lenoir announced. To the chorus of groans, she replied, “This is not for notes. I have some information about an exciting opportunity for you all.”

  Several people called out questions, but Miss Lenoir simply said, “I’ll tell you all about it after the show,” and left the room.

  “I wonder what that was about?” Helen said once the door had closed.

  Elsie said anxiously, “You don’t suppose they’re closing the show?”

  This brought another chorus of groans, this time of fear.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Helen scolded. “You see how full the house is every night. They wouldn’t close it down while they’re still making so much money.”

  Sarah said, “Maybe it’s that lawsuit from the company that tried to steal Pinafore. Do you suppose they prevailed after all?”

  For a brief moment, Helen had no answer. It was the first time Rosalyn had ever seen uncertainty cross her usually unflappable countenance.

  But then Helen made a gesture as if to swat away the suggestion. “No. She said it was an ‘exciting opportunity.’ Not even Miss Lenoir would use that phrase if they were going to tell us we were out of a job.”

  Still talking over the matter amongst themselves, the ladies descended the steps to the stage. Rosalyn followed, her mind filled with the same questions. Once the ladies’ barcarolle was underway, however, she forgot anything but the singing. The chorus was back to full strength, but no one had suggested that Rosalyn stop joining in on this song. She added a good voice and made their singing easier for the audience to hear.

  After the ladies had made their entrance, Rosalyn went looking for Nate. Seeing him at his usual perch in the spotlight gallery, she waved up at him. He signaled back that he had seen her, and a moment later she saw him descending the ladder along the back wall.

  He led her into the crossover hallway, where they could talk without causing any interruptions backstage. “Is something the matter?” he asked.

  “Miss Lenoir has told the cast to stay onstage after the show tonight for an announcement. That will delay my being able to finish up in the dressing room.”

  “I’ve been asked to stay behind, too, as it happens. The whole crew has, actually.”

  “Do you know what this is about?”

  “I have an idea.” He held up a hand to stop Rosalyn from asking more. “I think it would be better to wait and allow Miss Lenoir to explain everything. Anything else is conjecture.”

  “Yes, there is plenty of conjecture among the ladies’ chorus, I can tell you that!” Rosalyn joked.

  “Backstage gossip. Moves faster than an express train.” He gave her a grin and went back to work.

  Instead of waiting upstairs during the curtain call in order to be ready to help the ladies, Rosalyn stayed in her usual spot in the wings. Marion Johnson had taken over the part of Cousin Hebe with reasonable skill, but Rosalyn missed seeing Jessie perform it.

  Marion didn’t have the same persistent admirer, either—which made the curtain calls less interesting. Seeing Mrs. Hill standing nearby, Rosalyn whispered, “You don’t get to take your bows anymore, Mrs. Hill.”

  The charwoman gave a dramatic sigh, but there was an unmistakable twinkle in her eye. “It is a shame. But it was fun while it lasted.”

  It had been a good show with an enthusiastic audience, but Rosalyn wished for the bows to end so that the meeting could begin. Finally, after the third curtain call, the curtain came down for good.

  Tony came over to Rosalyn and pulled her onstage to join the others. “Are you on pins and needles? I am completely eaten up by curiosity.”

  “That sounds terrible!” Rosalyn teased.

  “Fortunately, I’m about to be saved from further harm. Here comes Miss Lenoir.”

  “Who’s that with her?” Rosalyn asked, seeing Miss Lenoir accompanied by an unfamiliar gentleman.

  “That’s Mr. Gunn. He oversees the two touring productions of Pinafore going around England right now. I wonder what he has to do with this announcement.” He rubbed his chin. “Hmm, ‘curiouser and curiouser,’ as they say.”

  The stage was crowded with the cast in the center and the stagehands standing at the edges. Everyone, it appeared, planned to be in on this conversation.

  Miss Lenoir stood at the front center of the stage and held up her arms to get everyone’s attention. When the murmuring had ceased, she said, “It’s late, and I know you are eager to get home, so I shall get right to the point.”

  “You ain’t closin’ the show, are you?” This came from one of the lighting men, who clearly had no qualms about voicing what everyone was thinking.

  “Nothing like that, I assure you,” Miss Lenoir answered. “I want to talk about the next show, which as you know will be called The Pirates of Penzance. The official opening won’t be until April. However, in order to secure copyright on both sides of the Atlantic, our lawyers have advised us that the show must be presented publicly in England at least once at the same time it opens in America.”

  “But that’s in three weeks,” Helen pointed out.

  “Correct. The show opens in New York on December thirty-first. Therefore, we will be doing one performance here in England on the thirtieth.”

  This brought a whole new round of questions from both cast and crew.

  “Here at the theater?”

  “But how can we do that? We haven’t even seen the music!”

  “What about the set?”

  Miss Lenoir waved her hands to quiet everyone down. “It won’t be in London. We don’t want anything to mar the grand opening in April. We’re going to put on the show in Paignton.”

  Several people looked surprised, and with good reason. Paignton was a small coastal resort town in Devon.

  “Why so far away?” someone called out.

  “You won’t get much of a house,” added another.

  “That is precisely the point. The show won’t be fancy or polished
or even very well-rehearsed. It simply needs to be presented. I have been tasked with producing this show. Again, I want to emphasize that this won’t be the proper debut. Its only purpose is to give us legal recourse against anyone who would try to steal the show the moment the music becomes public.”

  “So you’re protecting Pirates from the pirates?” said Mr. Giles.

  Miss Lenoir smiled. “Precisely. We’ve been able to locate some actors already in the area of Paignton and Torquay to play the principal roles.”

  “That saves the traveling expenses, I expect,” Helen whispered to Rosalyn.

  “We still need six men and six women from the chorus to complete the cast. For those of you who are interested, you will enjoy the unique opportunity of presenting this exciting new opera for the very first time.”

  A round of comments and murmurs began as people discussed their reactions and how this event would impact them. This time Miss Lenoir made no effort to stop it. She waited patiently for a minute or two until it took its course.

  Rosalyn was brimming with excitement. Before she could stop to wonder at her own boldness, she blurted out, “What about the crew? Will they be going?”

  Miss Lenoir looked pleased at Rosalyn’s eagerness, but she gave a regretful shake of her head. “For this one night, the ladies will have to make do without a dresser.”

  “That saves money, too, of course,” Helen whispered. She gave Rosalyn a pat on the back. “That’s too bad. I wish you could go with us.”

  “You’re going, then?” Rosalyn said.

  “Sure. I think it will be a lark.”

  “You’re not worried one of the fill-ins will try to steal your place here?” Elsie whispered.

  “Let ’em try,” Helen replied with a snort.

  “We are taking one of our stagehands, however,” Miss Lenoir said. “Since Patrick Moran is expected back to work after Christmas, I have asked Nate Moran if he would serve as the properties overseer for the show in Paignton.”

  Everyone, including Rosalyn, looked at Nate in astonishment. He stood there looking modest but with a hint of a smile.

  “Bravo, Nate!” one of the men called.

  Miss Lenoir said, “Some of you may know that Nate was a supply sergeant in the army. I can’t think of a more capable person for organizing the move of the costumes and the basic props and scenery. He also knows the lighting, so he’ll work with the crew there to get us what we need.”

  “If we go, will our expenses be paid?” one of the chorus men asked anxiously.

  “Train fare and hotel will be provided. We leave the morning of the show and return to London next day. Mr. Gunn will be the stage manager. Please see him if you wish to go. Thank you, that is all.”

  “Wait!” someone called out. “When will we rehearse?”

  Miss Lenoir gave an ironic smile. “As soon as the music arrives from America. It’s still being written.”

  “This really will be a bare-bones production,” Tony said to Rosalyn. “But even so, every other singer in London will be jealous that we know the new show before anyone else.”

  “I wish I could go,” Rosalyn said with a sigh. It sounded like a true adventure.

  “There’s no reason why you shouldn’t,” Tony said. “Come on.”

  He took her hand and led her over to Miss Lenoir and Mr. Gunn. “I would like to respectfully submit that Miss Bernay here be considered for one of the cast members.”

  “What?” Rosalyn cried in embarrassed surprise. She would never have been bold enough to ask for that.

  “She’s very good,” Tony continued. “Miss Lenoir, you’ve heard her sing. If she goes, you lose one less member of your London chorus, plus you’ll have a singer and dresser all in one.”

  Mr. Gunn looked understandably puzzled. “You want the dresser to perform in the show?”

  Miss Lenoir said, “She is a competent singer, but she doesn’t have any acting experience.”

  “You said yourself that the production doesn’t have to be very good,” Tony pointed out.

  Rosalyn poked him. “Thank you very much.”

  He grinned.

  Miss Lenoir studied Rosalyn with interest. “Do you really want this chance to ride in a second-class carriage to a cheap hotel and perform in an under-rehearsed show that probably only fifty people will attend?”

  “Yes!” said Rosalyn without hesitation.

  Miss Lenoir laughed. “You have been a good and loyal member of our staff. We’ll have a tough time doing without your services for two days, but we’ll manage.”

  “Does that mean I can go?” said Rosalyn.

  “Yes.”

  “Thank you! I promise you won’t regret it!”

  “Let’s hope not,” Mr. Gunn said, looking doubtful even as he accepted Miss Lenoir’s decision.

  Rosalyn and Tony stepped back as others began approaching to add their names to the cast list.

  “What fun we’ll have!” Tony exclaimed, taking her arm. “We should work extra hard on those lessons and make sure you’re fully prepared.”

  Wanting to share her joy, Rosalyn looked around for Nate. But he’d already been called over by Mr. Turner, the head of the stage crew, to attend to other business.

  There was no further time to talk or even to think on the matter. Everyone hurried off to their dressing rooms, and Rosalyn went along with them. She knew that as soon as she finished her tasks upstairs, she and Nate could discuss the show in Paignton during their walk home.

  Nate and Rosalyn said good-night to the custodian and went out the stage door. Since they were leaving later than usual, the street was quiet, with only a few people still out and about. The cold fog was bitter enough to send people scurrying home, but at least tonight it was not thick enough to overpower the street lamps. The visibility was good enough for Nate and Rosalyn to make their way easily along the streets.

  Nate could see that Rosalyn was brimming with excitement. She playfully slapped his arm. “You knew exactly what this was about and didn’t tell me.”

  He made a show of pretending to fend her off. “Easy, now. You’re starting to take entirely too much after my sister.”

  She grinned.

  Nate loved bringing out her smile. The feeling of ease that he so often felt when he was with her was like a balm to his soul—so long as he didn't dwell on the fact that it would all be ending soon.

  They were about halfway home when they came upon a policeman. “Good evening,” the constable said in a deep, authoritative voice. “Might I ask why you are out so late?”

  Nate felt Rosalyn’s grip tighten on his arm. It wasn’t the first time he had seen her freeze in fear when the police were nearby. He could tell she still hadn’t shaken her dread of them after her experience on her first day in London.

  “Good evening, constable,” Nate said. “We’re just walking home from the Opera Comique. We work backstage there.”

  “The Opera Comique?” The policeman’s stern countenance immediately softened. “That’s where HMS Pinafore is playing! Took the missus there just last week. Fine show.”

  “Yes, sir, it is.” Nate could sense Rosalyn’s tension easing at the policeman’s genial tone.

  “So many of those operas at the other theaters are unwatchable, you know,” the constable went on. “Scandalous stuff. But Pinafore, well, that’s completely different. It’s got real English characters for a change, despite the Frenchy name of the theater. And there’s nothing lewd or distasteful—not even when the captain says ‘the big, big D!’” He guffawed. “I hope we see lots more such shows.”

  “Perhaps Mr. Gilbert will include a policeman or two in the next show,” Nate said, even though it was akin to revealing government secrets. When Miss Lenoir had filled him in on his duties for The Pirates of Penzance in Paignton, the props and costume list had included policemen uniforms, lamps, and nightsticks. He knew this man would be pleasantly surprised come April.

  The policeman laughed again, this time in disbelief
. “A bobby! In an opera! That’ll be the day. Well, you two had best hurry on home. There’s lots of unsavory types out and about at this hour.”

  It wasn’t until they’d made it to the next block that Rosalyn loosened her grip on his arm.

  “You really have nothing to worry about,” he assured her.

  “I know. Not while you are with me, at any rate.”

  Her guileless and matter-of-fact answer warmed him in ways he craved, despite his better judgment.

  She gave a little laugh. “You know there are policemen in Penzance, don’t you?”

  “Aha! So you, too, have been privy to some of Mr. Gilbert’s secrets.”

  She pretended to look abashed. “Jessie told me the storyline before she left. She’d wheedled it out of Mr. Gilbert.”

  Once more they shared a smile—this time as co-conspirators in an important but very secret endeavor. For most of these weeks, Nate had been concentrating on living one day at a time. His day of departure was fast approaching, yet he carefully relegated that awareness to a back corner of his mind. He had a premonition that every hour he spent with Rosalyn would only make the pain of leaving greater. Nevertheless, he did not regret accepting the job in Paignton. Whatever future pain might come, the way she looked at him just now made it absolutely worth it.

  On the Sunday before Christmas, Rosalyn and Mary chatted as they followed the rest of the family out of church after the service. After several weeks of attending services there, Rosalyn felt quite comfortable.

  Patrick was walking now, his leg out of the splint. He was still using a cane, but soon he would not need that, either. As the family walked home together, Rosalyn found she was still keeping a wary eye out as they approached the intersection where the charity house stood. She could see Nate doing the same, and she knew that he, too, had not forgotten his glimpse of Mick, the man who’d been in league with Mollie Hurdle.

  Today Rosalyn saw nothing amiss. A group of women who lived at the charity house and had also come from the church were filing in the front door. Everyone else on the sidewalk was moving along, intent on their destinations.