Dancing On Air (14 page)

‘I apologise for the interruption. Now, Miss Florentia, you were saying?’ But his question died in his throat as he raised his gaze and saw two sets of eyes regarding him with amusement.

Lisette walked Jack Preston through the foyer and to the front of the theatre.

‘Thank you, Miss Devoré,’ Jack said as Lisette unlocked one of the front doors. ‘It was a pleasure to meet you and I must add that I think you are sublime when you dance.’

‘Thank you, Mr Preston. That is very kind of you.’

‘It is the truth. Good day Miss Devoré,’ Jack said as he slipped out the door and into the busy street.

‘Good day, Mr Preston.’ Lisette waited until he turned around and briskly walked down the flight of stone steps at the front of the theatre.

‘Who was that?’

Lisette jumped. ‘You startled me,’ she said as she lifted her head and saw Tinder Michaels striding towards her.

‘It was not my intent. So who was that?’

‘Mr Jack Preston, the critic from The Illustrated Theatre Review. He had come to do an article on Florentia.’

‘More favourable advertising for our theatre... Excellent.’

‘We can hope. He appears to be quite a decent man, although I think that Sally would disagree,’ Lisette said as she started to make her way back to the dressing room.

Tinder held out his hand and touched her shoulder. The gesture was soft and gentle but Lisette was aware of the heat of his hand and how inappropriate it felt.

‘Please Lisette, can we speak for a minute?’

‘Very well,’ she said as she took a step away from him, thereby causing Tinder to drop his arm.

‘This may sound strange as I have never discussed it with you before...but I suppose I care for you in some way.’

‘What do you mean, Mr Michaels?’

‘Call me Tinder, and what I mean is that I do not want to see you get hurt, used and abandoned.’

‘I’m sorry, but I do not know what you are speaking of. No one threatens me... I assure you, I am quite safe.’

‘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.’

‘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.’

‘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!’