Rosalyn approached her. “Do you recognize me?”
Penny hugged herself in a vain effort to ward off the cold. She met Rosalyn’s eye blankly. “Now how would I know someone like you?” she replied, taking in Rosalyn’s appearance. Rosalyn was dressed simply enough, in sturdy leather boots and a warm woolen coat she’d recently purchased secondhand. But it was a far cry from the rags Penny had on.
“A few months ago, I met you at . . . Mollie Hurdle’s.” Rosalyn didn’t even want to say the name out loud, but she forced herself to do it.
Penny approached her, scrutinizing her face. Then remembrance dawned. “Miss I’m-from-Bristol! Oh, what a lot of bother you caused.” Her words were punctuated with a rattling shiver as a blast of cold air hit them.
“Where’s your coat?” Rosalyn asked, genuinely concerned.
“Well, I had to pawn it, didn’t I? The old woman finally kicked me out—and on Christmas Day, too! But a person’s got to eat. So away the coat goes.” She sniffled, wiping her nose with her hand as she looked Rosalyn over once more. “You’re doin’ well for yourself.”
The truth was, Rosalyn had spent the past two weeks in a kind of daze. She exerted herself wholeheartedly at the theater, working at the job she was grateful she still had. She’d also followed up on a few leads Helen had given her for reputable singing coaches—although she wasn’t sure how she was going to afford them.
But so often, especially when she was at home, she felt nearly overcome by an aching sense of loss. She missed Nate. Her mind still turned over in regret.
Now, as she beheld Penny, her troubles seemed dim indeed. Rosalyn had so much to be thankful for. Perhaps she hadn’t been thankful enough for all the ways God had watched—and would continue to watch—over her. “Come with me,” Rosalyn offered. “I know a place you can get warm and get something to eat.”
It would make her late for work, but she had to do it. She couldn’t leave Penny here on the street. She would take her to the charity house, where they would offer Penny warmth and food and a chance to recover her life—if she was willing.
Penny looked at her in surprise. “You want to help me?”
“Yes. But we’ll have to go quickly.”
She took Penny to the charity house, leaving her in the care of Mrs. Fletcher. By the time Rosalyn had raced off to work, Penny was seated by the fire with a warm shawl around her, eating a hearty bowl of soup. She had accepted all these things with reluctance, distrust being well-ingrained into her about the motives of others, even those offering kindness. Whether Penny would stay at the house or leave because she felt too chafed by the strictures of living there was anyone’s guess. But at least Rosalyn knew she was safe and warm for tonight.
When she arrived at the theater, she was surprised to find herself approached by Mr. Cellier. “Miss Bernay, have you a moment?”
“Yes, of course,” she replied, astounded not only that he would want to talk to her, but at his formal address.
“I don’t think I ever got a chance to tell you what a fine job you did in Paignton.”
Her eyes widened. “Thank you.”
“It takes a special and, I would say, very flexible kind of person to be able to perform well under such less-than-ideal conditions. You seem to be such a person. I hope you will continue to seek out opportunities on the stage. I thought you would like to know that Mr. Carte is planning another touring production of Pinafore. We’ll be holding auditions in the near future. I believe there could be a place for you in the chorus, should you choose to try out for it.”
Rosalyn could barely believe what she was hearing. “Thank you, sir!” she exclaimed, barely able to suppress her excitement. Her chance to return to the stage might be happening faster than she’d anticipated.
Nate left Colonel Gwynn’s office and walked along the rows of plain buildings, deep in thought. As expected, the colonel had recommended him for a return to duty. He’d been surprised when Nate asked for a few days to think it over.
Nate paused at the end of the street, looking out at the large drill grounds beyond. Ever since his conversation with Danvers, his mind and heart had been in turmoil. An enormous burden had been lifted from his soul, and yet so many questions remained. From his childhood, Nate had wanted only to be a soldier. He’d been living with this plan for so long, it seemed unbelievable that he should now be considering giving it up.
Even if he returned to London, what then? Rosalyn would continue to chase her dreams of the theater. He’d received a letter yesterday from Mary, telling him Rosalyn already had hopes of joining a new traveling production. He could not conceive of simply returning to the life he’d led before he met her. He might do better to stay with the army after all.
He returned to the barracks to find a letter waiting for him on his bed. The camp messenger must have left it. Nate quickly tore open the envelope to see who it was from and stared down at the letter in surprise. It was from Mr. Gunn.
Five minutes later, Nate knew he had his answer.
CHAPTER
24
ROSALYN ARRIVED at the theater early. She’d just had her first lesson with a singing master whose studio was nearby. She was still thinking over some of the particulars of the lesson as she walked in the stage door. So intent was she on her thoughts that she nearly bumped into Patrick.
“What are you doing here?” Rosalyn exclaimed.
“Good afternoon to you, too,” Patrick replied jovially. “There were a few things that needed my attention, so I thought I’d get here early. I’m heading backstage now. I’ll walk with you.”
“All right.” She was going to ask what specifically had brought him here, but when they reached the wings of the stage, her attention was arrested by the sound of a violin. “That’s odd,” she said. “Is someone still here from the children’s matinee?”
“Could be,” Patrick said with a shrug.
Rosalyn followed the sound, which she could tell was coming from the orchestra pit. She recognized the slow, tender ballad immediately and heard the lyrics in her head.
A maiden fair to see, the pearl of minstrelsy,
A bud of blushing beauty . . .
It was the ballad sung by Ralph Rackstraw, pining for the woman who could never be his. Rosalyn could feel the yearning and tenderness like a physical embrace. She recognized not just the melody but the hand of the man playing it. She walked to the front of the stage, knowing even before she peered over the edge who she would see there.
Nate stood alone in the orchestra pit, playing the music he’d steadfastly refused to play before. He kept playing as though unaware anyone else was there, pouring his soul into the music. He reached the last stanza, and Rosalyn could still hear the words as well as the music.
O pity, pity me!
A captain’s daughter she,
And I, that lowly suitor!
Nate brought the final notes to a long, lingering close. He had just shown his love for her in the boldest, clearest way he could.
Rosalyn made her way down the short steps into the orchestra pit as Nate lowered the violin, carefully setting it aside. When his loving gaze met hers, Rosalyn did not hesitate. Once more, just as she had in Paignton, she raced over and threw her arms around him. This time, it wasn’t merely an impulsive gesture. This time, she knew this was the right place to be. She held on to that one thought despite the multitude of questions crowding her mind.
Nate gently pried her from his neck just long enough to bring his hands to her face and pull her into a kiss. She was nearly undone by the pleasure of it. Never could she have imagined a kiss could be so beautiful, so powerful and tender. She kissed him unreservedly, with all of her being, and he answered back. A finer duet than she could ever have dreamed of.
After a time, his arms enfolded her, drawing her close to his chest. She could feel his heart beating as wildly as hers as he caressed her hair.
“I should like to remain just like this forever, I think,” Rosalyn murmured.
“I was thinking the same thing.” He paused. “I was also thinking what excellent payment the musicians here get. Perhaps I ought to apply.”
She smiled against his chest. Then the meaning of what he’d said found its way into her happily muddled thoughts. She pulled back to look at him. “Are you not going back to the army?”
“No. But the truth is, I already have another job. Mr. Gunn has asked me to join the upcoming tour as a stage manager.”
“You . . . you’re . . .” she stammered. Her mind could barely take it all in.
“I just finished meeting with him. It will be similar to the job I did in Paignton, but there are other duties, as well. It sounds like just the kind of challenge I would like; however, I told him I could only accept if there is time for us to get married first.”
“Married!”
“You don’t think I’m going to risk having any man think he can win you away from me, do you?”
Rosalyn’s heart longed to say yes. But so many questions remained. “This is only a six-month tour. What happens after that? I know how important your army career has been to you. If, somewhere down the road, you should decide to return—”
“No,” Nate replied firmly. “Believe me, I’ve had plenty of time to think this over. I won’t be going back.” He took her hands in his. “One day soon I will tell you the whole story. But that part of my life is done now.”
“I believe you. But I can hardly believe this change.” Her words came out rather breathlessly due to her awareness of the warmth of Nate’s touch.
“Patrick has been badgering me about becoming a policeman. He insists I’d rise through the ranks just as quickly as I did in the army and could maybe even become a detective. That might happen someday, perhaps. We will have to take each day as it comes.”
He kissed her again. This time it was long and lingering, filled with the promise of a lifetime together.
She took a step back, placing her hands on her hips, doing her best to look and sound stern. “You seem to be counting on quite a lot of things, Mr. Moran.”
He shook his head and tsked, giving a very creditable imitation of Mr. Barker. “You’ll have to work hard to become a better actor than that.”
She swatted at him playfully but did not resist when he took hold of her and once more drew her close. Caressing his cheek, she murmured, “Here is one thing that I guarantee is not an act.”
He accepted her invitation without hesitation, kissing her and wrapping her in his arms. She melted into his warmth, his solid frame. Here was a man to hold on to, someone to walk with together—wherever life should take them.
Author’s Note
IN THIS BOOK, I was able to merge three of my longtime interests and passions: the operettas of Gilbert and Sullivan, life and times in Victorian England, and the work of George Müller.
When I was about twelve years old, my parents took me to see my first Gilbert and Sullivan production. That was the first of many. The operettas are funny, with wildly unbelievable plots, and the music is gorgeous. Many companies, both amateur and professional, still perform these operettas today. They are endlessly adaptable and highly enjoyable. If you ever have an opportunity to attend a show, I highly recommend it.
The Captain’s Daughter is set during the time of the original production of HMS Pinafore. Many of the characters in this book are based on real people: Jessie Bond, Helen Lenoir, George Grossmith, and others of the lead players and the theater management. The single show in Paignton to protect the copyright for The Pirates of Penzance actually happened. The Bernay sisters, the Morans, and all of the chorus members are fictional. I have veered from the actual historical record in a few minor ways, but I have done my best to remain true to the spirit of the time and to the people who presented these wonderful shows.
My love for Gilbert and Sullivan was probably the beginning of my fascination with Victorian England. As an admitted history geek, I love reading books about that era, as well as novels written during the time. The nineteenth century was one of rapid change, with huge strides in science and invention. Railways, telegraph, and photography began to turn their world into one we’d recognize today. New avenues opened up for women to support themselves independently. The London School of Medicine for Women was established in 1874, making it possible for women like Julia Bernay to pursue a career in medicine. More and more women were taking to the stage, too, although that profession was as precarious then as it is today.
Religious and spiritual inquiry was a very real part of most Victorians’ lives, both in the intellectual approach via biblical research, and in the practical application of everyday life. The life of George Müller is one example.
In the 1840s, Müller opened a small home for orphans in Bristol, England. He determined from the start never to solicit donations or money; he was a man of fervent prayer and believed that God would always provide. In time his work grew, along with the buildings, until by the end of the century, the orphanage was caring for over two thousand children! They were a very tangible example of God’s faithfulness in answering prayers. Several good biographies of Müller have been written, including Delighted in God! by Roger Steer.
Müller’s story is an inspiring example to Christians. A few years ago, I began to wonder what a person who had been raised in this atmosphere of trusting God to meet every need would be like. When they went out into the world as adults, how would they respond to life’s challenges? That’s when the idea for this series was born.
Acknowledgments
MY HEARTFELT THANKS to the many people who helped make this book possible:
David Long, for bringing me on board to Bethany House, and Jessica Barnes, my fabulous editor, for your enthusiasm, patience, and excellent guidance. Thanks to you both and to everyone at Bethany House for believing in this series.
Jessica Alvarez, my wonderful agent.
Elaine Luddy Klonicki, beta reader and now critique partner extraordinaire, for giving me the vital insights into my characters that I so desperately needed, and for saving this book when I was pretty sure it was not salvageable.
Karen Anders, for mentoring me over the years and specifically for helping me brainstorm the initial draft.
Sonja Foust and all of the Durham Savoyards cast and crew, who allowed me to spend time backstage at their production of HMS Pinafore and steal ideas for this book. The operetta may be well over a hundred years old, but it is evergreen.
Alan Jessopp at the George Müller Charitable Trust in Bristol, England, for an enlightening and inspiring two hours kindly answering my questions about daily life at Müller’s orphanage and the Trust’s continuing work today.
Georgette Nicolaides, for the violin demonstration, answering some admittedly strange questions about violin playing, and being brave enough to let me try my hand at it.
Everyone in the North Raleigh Fellowship, for their love and prayers, and for believing in me and cheering me on.
And, as always, my husband, Jim, for unfailing support and love.
To God, the Author and Source of all good things, who has provided so many amazing opportunities for me to write, and whose blessings I see daily.
Jennifer Delamere’s debut Victorian romance, An Heiress at Heart, was a 2013 RITA award finalist in the inspirational category. Her follow-up novel, A Lady Most Lovely, received a starred review from Publishers Weekly and the Maggie Award for Excellence from Georgia Romance Writers. Jennifer earned a BA in English from McGill University in Montreal, where she became fluent in French and developed an abiding passion for winter sports. She’s been an editor of nonfiction and educational materials for nearly two decades, and lives in North Carolina with her husband.
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aughter (London Beginnings Book #1)
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