The Captain's Daughter (London Beginnings Book #1)

by Jennifer Delamere

  Rosalyn carefully dislodged the notice from the board. It had water stains and one edge was tattered, but it was a memento worth keeping. Perhaps this would be her only chance to perform publicly. Perhaps last night was the first of many to come. Looking at the notice, the thrill of having been part of such an important occasion ran through her again. She wanted to perform again, of that she was sure. It might take time, and it would unquestionably take hard work to bring herself to the level of skill required. Last night’s debacle with Tony had left her sorely discouraged, but this morning, with the sun breaking through the coastal mists, Rosalyn understood she had no reason to let it keep her from pursuing this new dream.

  Carefully she rolled up the notice and placed it in her carpetbag, then continued up the street.

  In the end, keeping her distance from Tony was easily accomplished—if not without discomfort. He arrived flanked by several men from the chorus, including the man who’d seen her leaving Tony’s room. They seated themselves at the far end of the carriage. Once or twice she saw them looking in her direction, and she knew they were talking about her. She was aware how easy it would be for Tony to spread lies about her—even by saying nothing. The other man had surely seen enough to draw his own conclusions.

  Although the long train ride afforded her plenty of time to mull over all that had happened, by the time they arrived in London, there were still many unresolved issues in her mind. She would have liked nothing more than to go straight home, suddenly anxious to be away from the world of the theater for a few hours. She wanted to see Nate again, too. Tomorrow he’d leave for Aldershot, and who knew when she might see him again?

  But there was no time to go home. It was nearly call time, and everyone rushed to find cabs to the theater. Rosalyn ended up sharing a hansom cab with Sarah.

  “I’m glad we have a chance to talk,” Sarah said. “I wonder if tonight you might be able to cajole Mrs. Hill into giving us more towels in the dressing room. It’s scandalous how penny-pinching this theater is at times.”

  “Of course,” Rosalyn replied.

  It was a timely reminder that she was going back to her job as a dresser, not an actress. Was this intentional on Sarah’s part, to put Rosalyn in her place? Sarah went on to speak of other needs in the dressing room, such as the leaky water tap. As far as Sarah was concerned, Rosalyn’s brief foray onto the stage had been just that.

  London was a dreary place today, covered in snow filthy from soot. Clouds were thick overhead. The cab’s pace was slowed as the horse struggled on the icy streets. But at last they arrived, and the inside of the theater, while cold from the inadequate heating system, was already bustling with actors and crew preparing for the evening show.

  Rosalyn quickly deposited her bag in a corner of the dressing room and set about work. There was plenty to do. Last night’s production, which consisted of the cast who had remained behind plus a few temporary fill-ins, must have been a slipshod affair. Certainly the cleanup had been. The clothing racks and shelves for accessories were in complete disarray. Rosalyn did what she could to restore order. This was no easy task, as the other women were arriving and adding to the general confusion.

  As she worked, she heard Sarah say to one of her friends, “Have you heard the big news? Mr. Power is out with pneumonia. Tony Hayes goes on for him tonight. Possibly for the whole week.”

  “That’s good news for Tony, isn’t it?” said the other woman. “He’s been looking for this chance to prove he can carry a show.”

  So here was Tony’s big moment. His career was likely to keep its upward trajectory, just as he’d been telling Rosalyn all these weeks. What kind of man he was when not on the stage made no difference at all. It was another hard rule of the theater.

  Elsie was already seated at her usual spot at the makeup tables. Her eyes caught Rosalyn’s in the mirror, and Rosalyn knew they were both thinking the same thing.

  Scooping up a pile of dirty towels that had been left in a heap the night before, Rosalyn left the room. She heaved a sigh as she carried her load down the stairs. If she felt just a little bit sorry for herself, could she be blamed?

  At the bottom of the stairs, she nearly tripped over Miss Bella. The cat looked up at her and meowed. It felt like a welcome. Dropping the towels to one side, Rosalyn sat on the bottom step and scooped the cat into her arms. “Hello, Miss Bella,” she murmured, holding her close. “Did you miss me?”

  The cat purred, its warmth comforting. Rosalyn stroked it affectionately. Its soft fur felt good against her cheek as she continued to speak endearments. “There was no cat in the Paignton theater. Can you imagine? However do they manage?”

  Hearing footsteps, she looked up to see Millie approaching.

  “Miss Lenoir has asked if you could come to her office straightaway,” the girl announced. She pointed to the pile of towels. “Do you want me to take those to the washing room?”

  “Thank you,” Rosalyn replied, setting the cat down gently and standing up. She wondered at this unusual summons. As she hurried toward the business offices, she worried that some negative gossip about her had reached Miss Lenoir’s ears already.

  “Come!” said Miss Lenoir’s businesslike voice in response to Rosalyn’s knock.

  Miss Lenoir was not alone. Seated in a chair by the desk was a young woman Rosalyn hadn’t seen before. She was slender and pretty, and neatly if somewhat shabbily dressed. She met Rosalyn’s gaze squarely.

  “Rosalyn, this is Lilly,” Miss Lenoir said. “She’s just come to ask for her old job back.”

  For several seconds, Rosalyn could only stare. Finally, she regained enough presence of mind to close her mouth, which seemed to have fallen open in shock. Did Lilly’s return signal the end of Rosalyn’s time here?

  “Please take a seat so we can discuss the situation,” Miss Lenoir directed. She motioned toward the door as she spoke, and Rosalyn realized she was still holding on to the handle. Closing the door behind her, she took a seat in the chair next to Lilly.

  “This is an unusual situation, to be sure,” Miss Lenoir began. “I’ve already informed Lilly that she was highly remiss in leaving without notice. But when she explained the circumstances surrounding her departure, I began to understand. She has also given me permission to share this information with you—provided you agree to hold it in confidence.”

  Lilly was watching Rosalyn. Her expression did not reveal much about what she was thinking, but her hands, twisting a pair of very worn leather gloves in her lap, indicated a degree of nervousness.

  Rosalyn nodded, but her heart began a slow, heavy thud. If Miss Lenoir intended to turn Lilly away, it was unlikely she would have called Rosalyn into the office. Was she about to get the sack?

  “Lilly has been with us for several years,” Miss Lenoir said. “She has proven herself to be a good worker. Unfortunately, a few months ago she fell in love with someone in our theater and was led to make some unwise decisions. When she found herself in trouble, she knew—for reasons which she chooses not to divulge—that she could not apprise the man of her situation.”

  “Who was the man?” Rosalyn demanded. It was no doubt rude to ask, but she couldn’t help it. Not with so much at stake, and knowing the men in this theater as she did now.

  “Does it matter?” Lilly burst out. “It’s over now. I never had the baby, anyway. I miscarried while trying to reach my parents’ home in Hounslow. It’s hard to walk ten miles in such condition.” As she spoke, Lilly’s face displayed a poignant combination of pain and defiance.

  Rosalyn’s heart went out to her for this terrible tragedy. But it fueled her anger, too. “Surely the man must be confronted and punished!”

  “Everyone is responsible for their own actions,” Miss Lenoir replied calmly. “Mr. Gilbert can set as many rules for conduct in this theater as he likes, but he has no jurisdiction over what happens when working hours are over. I’m afraid we must acknowledge that Lilly has a share of the fault in this, as well. She has sworn to
me that she was not forced or coerced to do what she did.”

  “It’s true,” Lilly affirmed, her voice laden with regret. “Only stupid.”

  Once more, Rosalyn seethed at the injustice of these things. “Why is it always the woman who pays so dearly?”

  “That is a topic ripe for endless and important discussion,” Miss Lenoir agreed. “Unfortunately, it’s not something we are able to spend time on today.” She rose from her desk, coming around to the front of it so that she was nearer to both women, placing a brief, reassuring pat on Lilly’s shoulder. “Lilly has come to me, asking for work—or at the very least, a good reference to enable her to find a new job elsewhere.”

  “And—?” Rosalyn prompted, holding her breath for the answer.

  “I have offered her both things,” Miss Lenoir replied, “because I do not wish for her to pay for her actions more dearly than she already has.” Rosalyn heard the deliberate echo of her words. “Our children’s production of Pinafore has been so successful that we are extending it through March. Lilly will work with them. Some of the little tykes are especially hard on their costumes, and the woman we hired to help simply cannot keep up. It’s driving Madame Dupree to distraction.”

  “So I’m not losing my job?” Rosalyn felt almost guilty for asking, in light of what Lilly had been through. And yet she walked a fine line right now. She might dream of one day performing, but for the moment she still had to earn a living.

  “It would be a shame to let go of two such valuable workers,” Miss Lenoir responded. “So, ladies, are we happy with this arrangement?”

  “Yes!” said both women without hesitation.

  “In truth, I will be glad not to have to work late at night—at least for now,” Lilly admitted.

  Rosalyn thought she could understand the woman’s sentiment. “I think it took a lot of bravery for you to return here,” she told her.

  Lilly’s expression warmed with a tiny smile. “Thank you.”

  “Rosalyn, I won’t keep you any longer from your duties,” Miss Lenoir said. “Lilly and I have one or two more things to discuss privately.”

  Rosalyn nodded and stood up, thanking Miss Lenoir and offering a few words to Lilly before leaving the room.

  She was making her way down the hall when she saw Tony. He was just about to mount the stairs that led to the men’s dressing rooms, but he paused when he noticed her. She would have preferred he just kept going. She braced herself as she approached.

  He gave her one of his bright, self-assured smiles. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you. I want to apologize if I overstepped my bounds last night. I hope there are no hard feelings?”

  Rosalyn stared him down coldly. “How can you have the audacity to speak to me like that, after all the lies you’ve told me? You wanted me to think you were proposing to me, but you are married already!”

  Instantly his expression cooled. “Who told you that?”

  “It doesn’t matter. But it’s true, isn’t it?”

  He made an impatient gesture. “Rosalyn, this is business. I meant what I said about us being a fantastic duo, about how well we perform together. There are opportunities out there for the taking! Don’t allow personal matters to interfere with your chance to make a name for yourself.”

  He reached out to her, but Rosalyn withdrew sharply, taking a step back. “If I ever make it onstage again, I hope I will not have to perform with you,” she hissed. “But if I should be forced to do so, rest assured I will not allow these mere personal matters to interfere. In the meantime, I’ll thank you to stay away from me.”

  He actually had the effrontery to look insulted. “Is this really the thanks I get for all I’ve done for you?”

  Rosalyn could only stare at him, astonished at his brazen arrogance. It was true he had given her valuable help. Her voice and her confidence were better for it. But she reminded herself that he had only been using it as bait to lure her toward a corrupt path.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Rosalyn caught a movement. She turned, as Tony did, to see Lilly standing at the far end of the hall. Lilly gave them a brief, troubled look before turning away to disappear down another hallway.

  “So it’s like that, is it?” Tony said, returning his gaze to Rosalyn. “Very well.” He turned away crisply and began to mount the stairs. After a few steps, he paused, turning back just long enough to add, “I do hope you enjoy my performance tonight. I know how much you like watching the real actors from your little corner in the wings.”

  His sudden verbal assault hit Rosalyn like a slap in the face. Suppressing a gasp, she turned and walked quickly away, her heart bruised but proud.

  “So it seems Lilly has returned,” said Patrick as he and Rosalyn rode home together from the theater. A light snow was falling, but the blustery wind sent it stinging into their eyes and faces, so they’d decided to splurge on a cab.

  “Yes. How did you know?”

  “I saw her briefly in the hallway. Is that why you are so quiet tonight? You haven’t said three words so far. What is the news? Is she coming back to work?”

  “Yes, but on the children’s production.”

  “So your job is safe, then.”

  “At least for the present. That gives me time to plan.”

  “Plan for . . . ?” Patrick queried.

  “Helen showed me an announcement in The Era about an audition next week. It’s for a traveling production of a comic opera by Offenbach. I’m going to try out for it. I have little real chance of getting a part, but I’ve got to start somewhere.”

  “I see,” said Patrick thoughtfully.

  The cab pulled to a stop. Rosalyn sighed. “I can’t believe how happy I am to be home.”

  Patrick gave her a smile as he helped her down from the carriage. “I’m glad you think of this as home.”

  A light shone in the parlor window, and Rosalyn’s heart leapt. Was Nate waiting up for her? She hurried up the steps. To her surprise, they were met at the door by Mary.

  “Welcome back!” Mary spoke in an excited whisper, no doubt to keep from waking up the others in the house, and gave Rosalyn a warm hug.

  “What are you doing up so late?” Rosalyn asked.

  “Well, I couldn’t go to bed before welcoming you back from your important trip to Paignton, could I?” As soon as Rosalyn had shed her coat and hat, Mary tugged her toward the parlor. “I want to hear all about it.”

  “Surely Nate has already told you everything,” Rosalyn protested.

  She came to a halt at the door of the parlor when she saw Nate standing by the sofa. Her heart made staccato leaps in a way that she now fully understood. Here was a man who had never been anything but honest with her. Although his directness had felt sharp at times, she now recognized that his genuine concern for her had always underlay it. And wisdom, too. His worries had not always been unwarranted.

  As he looked at her now, his whole bearing was reserved, deferential. Rosalyn suddenly felt reticent, as well. It was brought on, paradoxically, by the unexpected rush of emotion she felt at seeing him. There would be no running into his arms tonight. She could only stand there and stare at him.

  Patrick gently dislodged Mary’s grasp on Rosalyn’s arm. “Mary, don’t forget that Rosalyn has had a very long day. I’m sure she will be glad to tell you all about it tomorrow.”

  “But—”

  “Come along,” Patrick admonished. “Don’t argue, or we may wake the rest of the family.”

  Still put out, Mary looked as though she might resist further. But then her gaze traveled between Nate and Rosalyn, and a tiny smile curved her lips. “You’re right,” she said to Patrick. She gave Rosalyn another hug. “Good night. I look forward to hearing everything tomorrow.”

  It had been a very long day. Rosalyn ought to be following Patrick and Mary up the stairs, turning in for the night. Yet neither one had suggested it. Instead, they had left Rosalyn and Nate alone in the parlor.

  “I’m sure you are tired,” Nate said
. “If you wish to go to bed, I understand.”

  “No, I’m glad you waited up.” She walked toward him, closing the distance in order to make it easier to speak quietly. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what happened last night.”

  He frowned. “So have I. I apologize if I said anything to hurt you. It was not my intention.”

  She shook her head. “There’s no need to apologize. You’ve been right about many things—most especially in your warning that the theater can be a dangerous place.”

  “Did something happen? Did anyone hurt you?” His fists clenched. “If Tony—”

  “I’m fine,” she assured him. But she could see from his reaction that it would be better not to tell him what had happened. “I just want you to know that I will always cherish the memory of what you did for me in Paignton—with the lights, I mean—and all your . . . kindnesses to me over these weeks.”

  Her words felt woefully inadequate. Rosalyn could only hope that somehow she had conveyed the depth of their meaning.

  He was looking at her intently. She couldn’t begin to guess what his thoughts were. “It is you who are the kind one. Last night I should not have berated you. I should have told you how impressive you were on that stage. How talented, and . . .” He swallowed. “And beautiful.”

  It cost him something to say those words. She could see it in his expression. He looked both pained and nervous. But it was the unvarnished honesty of it that drew her heart the most. It must have drawn in all of her, for she realized they were now standing very close.

  “Thank you,” she breathed.

  He reached out to gently take her hands in his. “Rosalyn, I have to leave tomorrow.”

  “Yes, I know. For your two-week reserve duty.” Like the rest of his family, she fervently clung to the hope that he would change his mind about his plans after that, about returning to the colors. She was heartsick at the thought of him leaving forever.