‘I have discussed this with your aunt, and I believe that your young lord will not be upfront with his intentions,’ Tinder said as he closed the gap between them. ‘I, on the other hand, am different. I would offer you what he will not.’
Lisette stared up at Tinder. Until this very moment she had no idea that he harboured any feelings for her at all. ‘Thank you, Tinder. You honour me with your words but I do not feel the same way. My heart is elsewhere engaged.’
‘He will use and disappoint you, Lisette. Can’t you see it! He is nothing but a selfish boy. He may offer you the world now, but his claims will be hollow. He will not marry you, Lisette...but I will.’
‘What Lord Gainswith does or does not do is no concern of yours. I thank you once again for your offer and I am touched but I cannot accept. It would be wrong to do so, for both our sakes.’
‘You are making a mistake. You are putting your trust and heart in the hands of a green boy. He will fail you, Lisette. Don’t you see his family will never accept this marriage? Ultimately he will do as his family wishes and cast you aside, tormented and broken,’ Tinder said. His hands reached out and rested on her shoulders. His fingers bit into her flesh.
Lisette twisted out of his grasp and backed away. ‘You are wrong. Evander will never hurt me,’ she said as she turned and ran back towards the depths of the theatre.
CHAPTER FOUR
Marie bit back a smile as the scream of outrage echoed through the near deserted corridors of the theatre. The scream was accompanied with the sound of something heavy being thrown against the wall.
‘Sweet Jesus, Mary and Joseph! What on earth has happened?’ Paddy O’Hearly, the stage manager exclaimed as he crossed himself.
‘Now, now Mr O’Hearly, there is nothing to fret about. I believe our principal dancer has just read Mr Preston’s latest review.’
‘Are you sure, Madame Devoré? For the honest truth is it sounded like a poor tormented soul or a screaming banshee.’
‘I think the latter would most certainly be apt,’ Marie said with a tight smile. ‘Ah, see Mr O’Hearly... Here comes your banshee now.’
As if on cue, Florentia flounced onto the stage waving a crumpled newspaper in her hand. Her face was drained of colour, except for the two blotches of red on her cheeks.
‘Madame Devoré have you seen this...this review! Out of the goodness of my heart, I take Lisette — your niece — under my wing and look where it gets me. That snake in the grass, that sorry excuse for a critic has the gall...yes, the very gall, to imply that I am past my prime. He suggests that I should gracefully step down and let Lisette take my place!’
Marie frowned and shook her head. ‘No, Florentia. I have not read it,’ she lied. ‘May I?’
Florentia shrugged her shoulder in an exaggerated manner. ‘Of course,’ she said as she handed The Illustrated Theatre Review to her.
‘Would you like me to get you a nice strong cup of tea, Miss Florentia?’ Paddy asked.
‘Thank you Paddy, but I believe the time for tea has passed. Perhaps a nice strong whiskey would be in order...or possibly gin?’
‘Why Miss Florentia that yard arm is hardly past nine in the morning!’
‘Exactly! No time like the present.’
Marie took the paper and smoothed out the wrinkle. ‘Mr O’Hearly, please get Florentia a strong pot of tea. Florentia, calm down or you’ll send yourself into hysteria. Hush, while I read.’
More surprising news from the Imperial Theatre. I was invited at the request of prima ballerina, Miss Florentia Cassaine, for an announcement. There I discovered that Miss Cassaine has taken the sublime Miss Devoré under her wing; that is to say as her protégé.
An interesting turn of events, indeed. After being fortunate enough to watch Miss Devoré dance, one has to wonder why she would be protégé to anyone. She dances with such beauty, purity and grace and is surely destined for great things.
Miss Cassaine has been a ballerina of great talent for many years. Some would say, as I once did, that she has yet to be surpassed. However all things change and I wonder if Miss Florentia will be soon eclipsed by the rising star of Lisette Devoré. I suggest, with all respect, that Miss Cassaine perhaps should think of retiring gracefully back into the wings before that happens. So my question is: If Miss Devoré is Florentia’s protégé, does that imply she is encouraging the girl’s career or hindering it?
Time will tell.
Jack Preston.
Theatre Critic.
‘Ah,’ Marie said. ‘Yes, I can understand why you would be a little annoyed.’
‘A little annoyed! I do believe, Madame, that is a gross understatement. I am the laughing stock of the theatre, the ballet world... This Jack Preston must pay. He must be made to recant.’
‘Rise above it, Florentia. Remember, all publicity is good publicity. This review will get more people through the doors. Some will come because they love you, some will come to see if the article is true.’
‘Are you saying that you agree? That I should retire and let your niece become the principal dancer?’ Florentia fumed and her question almost ended in a shout.
‘Non, not at all. When they come, you will show them what a great dancer you are. You will prove this Jack Preston wrong. You and only you can do that!’
‘And indeed I shall. Thank you, Madame Devoré,’ Florentia said as she turned and stalked back towards her dressing room.
Marie leaned on her cane and smiled. It had begun. Soon Lisette would be principal dancer. It was only a matter of time.
Evander sat in a small private room in The Griffin. Lord Anthony Sinclair leant against the mantle, slowly swirling a brandy balloon in his hand. Lord Harry Tollworth lounged next to Evander.
‘I really must congratulate you, my dear Evander.’
‘For what?’
‘Why, seeing the worth of the divine Miss Devoré before everyone else,’ Anthony said with a mock salute.
Evander’s fingers tightened around his glass.
‘I mean, you managed to snag the brightest rising light in the ballet before anyone else knew that she was.’
‘That was never my intention. Miss Devoré is a jewel in her own right. The idea that she would become a sensation never crossed my mind. Although, to give her credit, she is extraordinarily talented.’ Evander straightened in his chair. The whole conversation about Lisette was beginning to make him uncomfortable.
‘They say that she will be the next prima ballerina, not just at the Imperial Theatre but of all London,’ Harry added.
‘Who says?’
‘Oh, I don’t know, Gainswith. The papers, gossip, talk around town… The usual stuff.’
‘I’m sure there are better things to comment upon.’
‘Gad, Evander! Don’t you realise what you’ve managed to secure? Your little ballerina is all the rage and I doubt it will abate anytime soon. There are a multitude of men all clamouring for an introduction and the word is, Miss Devoré will have none of them.’
‘You talk of her as if she is an object,’ Evander said. His voice was low and menacingly calm.
‘All I’m saying is that you have managed to snare the very beautiful — and no doubt supple — Miss Devoré. Well done, Evander. Very well done.’
‘Is she?’ Harry asked.
‘Is she what?’ Evander asked even though he knew he would regret it.
Harry sat up a little straighter in his chair. ‘Supple?’
An awkward silence descended over the room. The only sound was the crack as Evander shattered the stem of the wine glass between his fingers. He looked at the surprised faces of his friends.
‘I would suggest that you both choose your next words very carefully. We have been friends for many years but you have crossed a line that is almost impossible to overlook.’
Harry cleared his throat. His cheeks were stained in embarrassment. ‘I meant no offense, old man. I thought she was like the others... Another one of your legendary conquests.�
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‘Miss Devoré is different.’
‘Apparently! Damn it all, Evander, you’ve gone and fallen in love with her!’ Anthony said with a twinkle of amusement in his eye. ‘Oh this is priceless. Your father will be howling for your blood.’
‘I’m not in love with Lisette,’ Evander said. But he doubted the words as they left his mouth. She was different from any girl he had ever met. Lisette was kind, gentle and she didn’t care who he was or what family he came from. He knew that she cared about him and, whether it was the beginning of love or not, Evander cared about her. Which was why he could not sit here and listen to his friends refer to Lisette as if she was an easy conquest or, worse, a soiled dove of the streets.
‘Damned if you’re not!’
‘I don’t care what you think, Anthony. You will not discuss Miss Lisette Devoré again, unless it is with the greatest respect. Do I make myself clear?’ Evander rose from the chair.
‘Yes, very well. But Harry is right. We would never have said a thing if we had known that you were...fond of Miss Devoré’
Evander nodded to his friend before he headed to the door.
‘Wait, where are you going?’
‘To get some air!’ Evander said. However, Anthony’s words followed him through the door.
‘Gad, who would have thought that Evander Gainswith would be laid low by a little ballerina!’
Lisette hummed a tune as she put the finishing touches to her makeup. Her head was filled, as it always was, with Evander. She leaned forward towards the mirror and swept a tiny brush along the base of her eyelid. With a steady hand she arced a black line along her lashes and up to the corner of her eye. The result was dramatic makeup that could be seen past the footlights.
She picked up the garland of velvet flowers. A smile bloomed on her lips as her fingers ran over the soft material, the pink rosebuds reminding her of the flowers Evander gave to her each performance. With a sigh, she started to pin the flowers to her hair.
With each passing day, with each meeting, Lisette began to dream about a life with Evander by her side. It was true, more often than not she was lost in daydreams. Dreams of leaving the theatre and her Aunt, dreams of being married to a man she had already fallen in love with. Perhaps she was being naive, but Tinder was wrong. Evander cared for her. She felt it every time he touched her, kissed her and even looked at her. He would not hurt her. He had promised that he would never willingly desert her or leave her shattered.
Lisette stood up and looked in the mirror one last time. Everything was in place. He’s going to marry me and take me away from her, she told her reflection.
She ambled out of the dressing room, as she was ready and early. The majority of the company were only just arriving, cutting it fine as usual. The dressing room would soon become chaos as everyone dashed to get ready for the performance. Tonight she was grateful to be out of the melee. As she neared Florentia’s dressing room, she was met with the sound of harsh whispers floating through the open door.
‘Are you going to deny it?’
‘Yes. My son has nothing to do with you, Vincent.’
Lisette stood by the door, out of sight. She should have walked on but the fear echoing in Florentia’s voice made her pause. Lisette gathered her courage and peeped around the open door. Lord Vincent de Vale was towering over Florentia. She was backed up against her dressing table and looked terrified.
‘He’s mine and I have a right to Richard. He is my only heir.’
‘I will never admit it.’
‘Then who is the father?’
‘’Tis a secret I will take to my grave.’
‘Beware, Florentia, cross me and that may be sooner than you had envisaged,’ he said as he grabbed her arm. ‘Remember I know who you are...and I remember where you came from, Lily. And I remember what you did to become the principal dancer. What if we were to take up where we left off all those years ago? What say you? We could make a perfect family...and I may even make you my Lady de Vale. ‘
Florentia visibly paled and swayed against Vincent. She braced herself with her free arm as if she was trying not to swoon. She tried to twist her arm out of his grasp but could not. She cried out in pain as he tightened his hold. ‘Richard is mine, only mine... You cannot have him.’
‘I did wonder if I was the brat’s father. But the truth is, until now I didn’t care. I have been revaluating of late. It occurred to me that we all must face our own mortality and that being said I need a son; a boy who will take over my lands and power when I am dead. A long way off, I hope, but it is better to be prepared.’
‘Then go and marry and reproduce, for you will not have my son.’
‘Funny, Madame Devoré is under the impression that Richard is mine.’
‘That bitch!’ Florentia said. ‘She will say anything to appease you. She always has.’
‘Maybe I should just see the boy... I’m sure I could tell if he is mine.’
‘No, you will not go near him. I know what you are like, Vincent: a demon. You would try and take him from me and then turn his mind and heart against me. You will not have him.’
‘You forget, my dear, that I always get what I want. And I’m beginning to think that I want you! It’s been far too long, Lily. I remember what it was like to be inside you, to have your legs wrapped around me. Do you remember, Lily? Do you?’
‘No, I’ve tried to erase it from my mind. It was a nightmare. One I do not wish to recall.’
‘Then perhaps your memory needs a jolt,’ Vincent said as he pushed her down. But Florentia threw herself to one side in an attempt to get away. Vincent’s hand snaked out and he caught her by the collar of her gown as she turned her back on him. Florentia tried to run, the mauve silk of her gown ripped as she moved, exposing the smooth skin of her back.
Lisette sucked in a breath as her eyes travelled down Florentia’s ruined gown. Below the small of her back, Florentia had a series of thin scars. It was as if she had been whipped. Lisette moved before her courage failed her altogether. Lord de Vale frightened her but she would not stand by and let him terrify Florentia.
‘Florentia, is everything alright?’ Lisette walked into the dressing room. Her eyes never left the imposing figure of Vincent de Vale. She wanted to make sure that she knew where he was at all times.
‘Ah Lisette, yes...thank you... I am... I am quite well.’
Lisette could hear the relief in Florentia’s voice and it made her boiling mad. How dare de Vale treat Florentia this way! With her anger overtaking common sense, Lisette faced de Vale down.
‘Obviously Lord de Vale, Miss Florentia is unwell. She should rest before the performance.’
‘Lisette, ma petite, how very much you remind me of dear Mélisande. I do believe that you are the very image of your mamma.’
‘Thank you. My aunt says I look like her. However, Lord de Vale, I fear this is not the time to reminisce about the past. Florentia needs her rest. I must insist that you allow her to do so,’ Lisette said. She drew herself up, full of bravado, and prayed that he wouldn’t see through it.
‘Well, well... This is an interesting turn of events. The little mouse is really a lioness. How utterly amusing. I was wrong. Even though you look like your mother, I see now that you favour your aunt’s temperament.’
‘I am nothing like my aunt, a point that you should remember. Now, my lord, if you please,’ Lisette said as she stepped to one side and gestured to the door.
‘Very well, my dear, I shall take my leave. Until next we meet,’ Vincent said as he caught Lisette’s hand and brought it to his lips. He straightened and nodded to Florentia. ‘I believe we shall continue our conversation at a later date, when you are less fatigued.’
‘Lord de Vale.’ Florentia’s words were barely audible. She stood trembling with her back to the door.
Lisette waited until he had crossed the threshold and then, as quick as she could, she slammed the door shut.
‘He’s gone.’ Lisette hurried
over to Florentia and gently touched her shoulder. Florentia was trembling and, as Lisette leaned in to give her a hug, she glanced at the torn dress. Her eyes were drawn to a series of thin scars that were etched below the small of Florentia’s back.
Florentia tensed for a moment, as if she sensed what Lisette had seen. Then, expelling a breath, she relaxed into the embrace.
‘Help me sit down.’
With a nod, Lisette led Florentia back to the chair in front of her dressing table. She then perched on the edge of the table and waited for the older woman to speak. The minutes dragged into silence.
‘I have been silent for too long. The secret must be told. You know Lord de Vale?’
‘Only that he is an acquaintance of my aunt.’
‘He is far more than an acquaintance.’
‘An old friend, then. They met when we still lived in Paris.’
‘They renewed their friendship once Madame Devoré became ballet mistress at the Imperial.’
‘So what is the secret, Florentia? What is it that you wish to tell?’
‘Vincent has a taste for young women, dancers mainly. Your aunt procures them for him.’
‘I’m sorry, I don’t quite understand.’
‘Vincent wants girls for his own pleasure and your aunt finds them for him. I can’t put it any plainer than that. Oh, at first he plays the charming gentleman. He showers you with gifts and candlelight suppers. But once he has you, once you surrender, then he changes into a hedonistic monster — a monster with dominating ways and violent desires. He gave me these scars,’ Florentia said in a half whisper. Her voice was so soft that Lisette had to lean closer to catch her words.
‘My aunt is part of this? Are you certain?’
‘Yes. As ballet mistress Marie knows all the girls and which ones would be open for Vincent’s advances.’
Lisette straightened. A ball of sick tension sat like a stone in her stomach and for an instant she thought she would be sick.
‘How do you know this?’
‘I was one of those girls. I was ignorant and stupid and my head was easily turned by a kind word or gesture. I was flattered that he had singled me out of a chorus of girls. Marie was the ballet mistress and she implied that a liaison with Vincent would be beneficial for my career, perhaps even lead me to becoming a principal dancer. But almost as soon as it started I knew it was a mistake. By the time it ended I was fragile and broken...and pregnant. It took me weeks to heal and by the time I was well enough the baby was too far advanced. Marie secreted me away until Richard was born. She wanted to be rid of my child and me but I swore that she make good on her promise. I threatened to tell what had happened and she relented. When Richard was six months old I began training again and eventually became the Imperial’s star.’
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