The Captain's Daughter

by Jennifer Delamere

  “Queen Victoria’s name!” Joe finished with a grin, and everyone laughed.

  The men were dismissed to begin setting the lights. As Nate worked with the crew, he once more thought about Rosalyn. He was glad he had this opportunity to run the spotlight. He would be sure she was well-illuminated during her time onstage. Mr. Gunn might notice and quiz him about it afterward, but since this was Nate’s last two days working for the opera company, he didn’t see that the touring manager could do anything about it.

  He still harbored concerns about Rosalyn vying for a stage career, but there was no denying she had a gift for music worth sharing. If this was his only chance to see her on stage, he would give her the best send-off possible.

  Rosalyn and the others had been pleasantly surprised when Mrs. Boyle introduced them to Betsy, the dressing room attendant. “She will help you with whatever you need,” Mrs. Boyle had told them.

  Their first task had been to get the gowns and other costumes out of the crates. There was a stove set up for a flatiron, and Betsy worked diligently to get the gowns wrinkle-free and looking their best.

  They sorted through the nightcaps and shawls, each picking the one they preferred. “So this is all we have to simulate being in our nightclothes?” Rosalyn said. “The audience will be able to tell we still have our gowns on under the shawls.”

  “No money wasted on costumes,” Helen said dryly.

  Mrs. Boyle popped her head in the door. “Ladies, we need you downstairs for the run-through in ten minutes.”

  “This is it!” Helen said to Rosalyn. “Are you excited?”

  Rosalyn nodded as she placed the cap and shawl she’d use that night at her dressing area. “I almost can’t believe it’s happening.”

  “Enjoy it while it’s new and exciting,” said Elsie. “That first blush of excitement will wear off.”

  “Well, aren’t you a ray of sunshine,” Helen teased.

  Rosalyn knew Elsie might be right, but at the moment she couldn’t imagine not being thrilled before going onstage.

  In the hallway they met up with several of the men. Tony immediately came to Rosalyn’s side as the group went downstairs. “How are you liking it? This is a nice theater, isn’t it?” He winked. “Certainly much friendlier backstage.”

  They reached the wings and saw that Mr. Gunn was already calling the actors into position. “Onstage, please! We have time for one run-through.” When everyone was in place, Mr. Gunn said, “This is our preliminary rehearsal, technical rehearsal, and dress rehearsal rolled into one. We won’t stop to discuss lighting; the men have their instructions and will work independently as we concentrate on getting some basic blocking and hitting the singing cues.”

  At the mention of the lights, Rosalyn looked up almost reflexively and was surprised to see Nate in the same place behind a spotlight that he occupied while working on Pinafore. Catching his eye, she smiled and waved. He gave a brief wave in return.

  Seeing this, Tony gave Nate a mock salute. Nate frowned and looked away, turning to speak to another lighting man in the perch with him.

  “All right, everyone, let’s have a quick warm-up,” Mr. Cellier said. “And then we’ll begin.”

  It was tough for Nate, watching the run-through.

  Not because the singers were less than perfect as they worked to learn their music and memorize some basic blocking at the same time. They were more fluid at doing both of those things simultaneously than he would have expected. He supposed most of the actors had spent a good deal of time touring and must be used to learning things quickly. Rosalyn was proving to be a quick study, too. She held her own against the others. Once or twice when she stumbled on a note or a movement, she quickly recovered and caught up.

  He wasn’t even too bothered when the actor playing the major general came out and sang about how he had every kind of knowledge except how to run a modern-day army. It was the same kind of satire Mr. Gilbert had done with the head of the navy in Pinafore. Nate had personally known a few commanders who were not as thoroughly vetted on tactics as they ought to have been.

  No, what was most difficult for Nate was seeing how much time Hayes was managing to spend with Rosalyn on the stage. He was playing one of the pirates, and when they all swooped in on the ladies, each intent on carrying one off as a bride, he attached himself to Rosalyn. It troubled Nate to see the way his hands moved so familiarly around her waist. At one point Hayes even lifted her off her feet and twirled her around, though to be fair, many of the others were doing the same. The ladies all shrieked in dismay, but their characters were secretly enamored at the idea of being carried off. He told himself Rosalyn was only playacting, but it certainly looked like genuine delight.

  At the moment, Patrick’s suggestion that Nate stay in London and become a policeman sounded mighty good. Sometimes it seemed criminal what those men could get away with on the stage.

  He was glad he had the lighting issues to keep him occupied. He was also, along with the rest of the crew, seeing this show for the first time.

  When the constable arrived with his police force—which for this production consisted of five men—Nate was surprised at how they were portrayed. In Pinafore, Mr. Gilbert had portrayed the sailors as “noble men and true,” in a generally positive light—even if the idea that sailors never swore was completely unbelievable. From what Nate had seen, appreciation for England’s navy men had soared, thanks to Pinafore’s popularity. But in this show, the constable and the bobbies were cowardly buffoons who shook down to their boots at the thought of having to go after the pirates.

  Nate thought of the policeman he and Rosalyn had spoken to one night and how pleased the man had been at the thought of seeing his profession portrayed in an opera. Nate could just imagine the policeman’s consternation next spring when he took his “missus” to see Penzance.

  “Isn’t this a funny show?” Joe said, laughing at the antics of the bobbies. “It looks like Mr. Gilbert and Mr. Sullivan have done it again.”

  “Doesn’t it bother you that the policemen are portrayed so negatively?”

  “What?” Joe scratched his chin. “Nah. It’s all in good fun. Everyone knows real policemen ain’t like that. Real bobbies also ain’t as short as some of them actors there. There’s a minimum height requirement for them, you know. Got to be able to keep criminals in line.” He chuckled. “Or pirates.”

  They reached the point where the constable called out to the pirates, “Stop! In Queen Victoria’s name!” Nate and the rest of the lighting crew immediately brought up the white lights. It was a good effect, he thought.

  The pirates complied at once, because after all, who could deny the authority of the Queen?

  Joe was nearly crying with laughter. “Such clever fellows who wrote this show. When Her Majesty sees it, she’ll be so delighted she’ll knight them both on the spot.”

  But the show wasn’t over yet. After a few final twists and turns, the pirates won the women anyway. Just about everyone was paired with someone at the end.

  “Yeah, it’s always the rogues them ladies go for, ain’t it?” said Joe, laughing as though he’d just told a joke.

  That hadn’t been the case with the women Nate had known. But looking at Rosalyn wrapped in Hayes’s arms and smiling, he figured there must be times when that was so.

  Rosalyn eagerly sat down at one of the mirrors. After weeks of watching the women apply makeup on themselves, she was thrilled to try it herself.

  “First we spread this Vaseline on your face to fill in the pores,” Helen instructed. “That way the greasepaint will go on nice and smooth.”

  Once that was done, Helen showed her how to apply the greasepaint. It was definitely an odd feeling, having the heavy stuff cover her face. “I look so different already!” she exclaimed.

  “Like a little china doll,” Helen said. “Time to get some color there. I’ll apply rouge to my face, and you follow what I do. We’ll start with the cheeks.”

  She applied an
d spread the rouge, and Rosalyn did the same. They touched a small amount to the chin, as well.

  Helen looked her over and nodded. “That looks very good. Now we’ll put just a tiny bit up under the eyebrows, to give brightness to the eye. Like so . . .”

  Over the next few minutes, Helen showed her where to add white highlights so her features would not be washed out by the bright stage lights. Last of all, they put red coloring on her lips. When they were done, Rosalyn stared at herself in the mirror. She had been utterly transformed.

  “You are beautiful,” Helen said proudly, as though Rosalyn were a product of her own creation.

  “It’s amazing!” Rosalyn could hardly believe she was looking at herself.

  “Don’t stare at yourself too long, Narcissa,” Helen teased. “We’ve got to finish getting dressed.”

  By the time Mrs. Boyle told them they were wanted in the greenroom for warm-ups, Rosalyn was almost giddy with anticipation. The run-through they’d done earlier had been her first chance to stand on a stage and actually perform. It had given her an exciting taste of what was to come.

  “A proper greenroom,” Elsie said with satisfaction as they entered.

  The room was large and liberally furnished with comfortable sofas and chairs. Most of the men were already there. Everyone had their music and notes for act one in their hands.

  Rosalyn’s eye sought—and immediately found—Tony.

  He grinned as she walked over to him. “What is this vision of loveliness that approaches? You are perfect, absolutely perfect.” He leaned in, placing his lips very close to her ear, and murmured, “I’d kiss that lovely cheek, but I don’t want to spoil the makeup.”

  It was an even greater boost to Rosalyn’s confidence, having his approbation.

  “Do you know the Greek myth about Pygmalion, the god who falls in love with a statue he created? That is how I feel about you when I think of how far you’ve come since the day you wandered into the theater.”

  “It is only for one night, though,” Rosalyn said. “My story may end up being more like Cinderella’s.”

  “But she had a triumphant ending, too, did she not? After all, she lived happily ever after.” He took her hands, drawing her close. “Your happy ending may well be to bring joy to others by performing on the stage.”

  “It is an appealing thought,” Rosalyn admitted.

  “Keep that vision right there, in the center of your heart.” He tapped her chest, ever so lightly.

  Just a few short weeks ago, she might have been taken aback by a man touching her so casually. But by now she’d grown comfortable with the way Tony and the other actors showed their affection in a physical way. It was, in fact, rather freeing. She had never realized how bound-in her life had been before she’d come to London.

  She took a moment to breathe in, savoring the happy feeling. Tony always smelled good, too. Whatever shaving lotion he used, it was immensely appealing.

  “What are you thinking, my dear?”

  “You always smell so good,” she confessed.

  His eyebrows lifted. “So forthright you are. I’m glad it appeals to you. Listen, tonight after the show, everyone is going to dinner at the hotel. You’re going to sit with me, right?”

  “All right.”

  Mr. Cellier strode into the room. “Time to get started!” he announced, pulling out his pitch pipe.

  Rosalyn quickly found her attention fully focused on the task at hand. Even so, she enjoyed having Tony next to her as they went through the warm-ups. He’d believed in her from the beginning and had fought to get her here tonight. At one point they turned and shared a smile, and Rosalyn’s heart soared with excitement for the evening ahead.

  CHAPTER

  21

  NATE STOOD IN THE LOBBY, watching the audience straggle into the theater. Mr. Gunn was right in saying there wouldn’t be much of a crowd. The show had barely been advertised, and performing it on a Tuesday in this little coastal resort in winter all but guaranteed a small turnout.

  Still, he could see that those who’d come were excited to be here. He overheard snippets of their jovial conversation as they passed. “What a lark!” one man exclaimed. “We get to be the first to see the new show.”

  “Have you seen Pinafore?” another asked.

  “I’ve seen Pinafore at least a dozen times! Never tire of it. Can’t wait to see what they’ve come up with next.”

  Nate could understand their excitement. He, too, had been curious to see what the new show was about. While the plot had been full of silliness, the music had been excellent—even hearing it with only a piano. He could imagine how good it would be with a full orchestra.

  Mostly, though, Nate anticipated tonight’s show on account of Rosalyn. How would she perform? He had no doubt about her voice, but he hoped she would not be distracted or make mistakes now that she was performing in front of an audience. If she did poorly, would she be hurt or disappointed? If she did well, then what? What if she decided to take on the life of a vagabond actress? He found the thought troubling, knowing that she was still largely unproven in the ways of the world. Right now she only spent time with the actors during defined working hours. But traveling together would put them on a much more intimate basis. It did no good to tell himself that she was free to make her own way in the world. He could make no claim on her, nor would he even be near enough to offer help. He was bound to a different life.

  One of the posters for the show caught his eye, and he noticed something he hadn’t seen before. The subtitle for this show was “The Slave of Duty.”

  It was nearly time for curtain. Still grimacing from the poster, Nate made his way to the back of the theater and joined Joe and the other stagehands in the final preparations.

  In his perch next to the limelight, Nate was ready when the curtain lifted. As act one progressed, he trained his light on the principal actors playing the pirate crew as they sang their songs. But he was waiting for their exit, which would signal the entrance of the ladies’ chorus.

  At last they entered, singing. They were all dressed in white muslin frocks suitable for strolling along the beach in summer. Nate immediately spotted Rosalyn, even though with her face in full stage makeup, she almost looked like a completely different person. But her smile and the light in her eyes as she sang were unmistakable.

  The ladies traipsed around the stage in a circular motion, a very simple pattern that was all they’d had time to learn. Like the actors in the first scene, they held their music and prompt sheets in their hands. He wondered what the audience was making of that.

  He couldn’t take his eyes off Rosalyn. He trained the spotlight on her as the song ended and she and two other ladies began their dialogue. She was enchanting as she said the two lines allotted to her character.

  The only thing that marred his enjoyment of the first act was when the pirates swooped in to steal the ladies for their brides, and he had to suffer through seeing Rosalyn clutched in Hayes’s arms once again.

  During the second act, as the policemen sang, Nate recalled Joe’s words and realized they weren’t quite as bad as he’d first thought. Everything in Mr. Gilbert’s shows had an element of the ridiculous. Just looking at the motley collection of characters on the stage right now confirmed that. There were ladies wearing nightcaps and holding candles, trembling policemen, and improbably sympathetic pirates.

  Nate kept his eyes on Rosalyn whenever she was on stage. The entire production was woefully unpolished, yet she performed beautifully. Certainly as well as anyone else in the cast. As the show ended with a final joyous chorus, he suffered mixed emotions once more. He was proud of what she’d accomplished tonight but concerned about where this success might take her.

  Although meager in size, the audience applauded so enthusiastically that the sound filled the modest theater. The cast beamed with happiness as they took their bows. Nate swept his spotlight over each individual as he or she stepped forward, lingering when he got to Rosalyn. She
deserved this much tonight. She looked up at him and waved, just managing to send him a bright smile before she was pulled into another group bow.

  After two more curtain calls, Mr. Gunn called the show over, and the curtain came down for good. Nate hurried down to the stage, wanting to catch Rosalyn before she went off to the dressing rooms. The stage was filled with people in motion. Actors cheered and hugged one another. A few tossed their music into the air. Stagehands began to crisscross the stage, collecting props and smaller bits of scenery. But Rosalyn still stood center-right, exactly where she’d been when the curtain had come down. She was looking around at all that was happening, as though trying to memorize every detail.

  When she saw Nate, she gave him a smile of such sweet happiness that it did something very particular to his insides. To his surprise, she ran toward him, throwing her arms around his neck in an effusive hug. “Did you enjoy it?” she asked enthusiastically.

  “Yes.” There was so much more he should be saying, so many compliments to give her. Her impulsive gesture undoubtedly stemmed from the pure joy she was feeling. All around her, others were doing the same thing. But as his arms wrapped reflexively around her, he found that her nearness had stolen his ability to speak.

  Nate didn’t move. He wasn’t even sure he breathed. For a brief moment it felt as though Rosalyn stilled as well, relaxing into his embrace. Nate had the impression that the ground beneath him was shifting. He closed his eyes, hoping that might help him regain his bearings, but it only heightened his awareness of her, of how she felt in his arms. He caught mingled scents of soap and face cream and makeup. He remained only vaguely aware they were standing in the middle of dozens of people. It took all his strength not to pull her closer to him.

  She gave a little start and stepped back. “Oh dear, I must be careful not to get greasepaint on your clothes!” There was a breathless tremor in her voice.

  He thought he saw a glimmer of tears in her eyes, as well. The stage makeup looked garish up close. It was smearing in places, the result of performing so energetically for nearly three hours under the hot lights. There was a sheen of perspiration on her brow, and her hair was tousled from the moment when she and all the ladies removed their sleeping caps to take their final bows. And with all of this, she was still beautiful.