Chapter Nine #2
“I’m a man of my word. I didn’t know Miss Soldene would require the extra rehearsal when I offered the tour, but even if I had, I still would have offered. It’s been worth the lost sleep to have these minutes with you.”
She stared at him like she was reasoning out a puzzle, her mask all but forgotten.
“I don’t understand you. You don’t flirt with my friends, but you insist upon doing so with me.
You are obviously of a more gregarious nature than myself and must find me boring, yet you choose to single me out.
Is it because you see my disinterest as a challenge to conquer?
Or are you not quite right in the head?”
He almost laughed at her directness, but the seriousness in her demeanor sobered him.
Did she truly not believe herself capable of attracting a reasonable man?
Someone needed to correct that misconception, and he was happy to volunteer.
“I am of sound mind, Miss Davis. I’ve observed you display loyalty, patience, and love to your ma week after week.
If that were not enough to garner my attention, your gentleness and kindness to my own ma made it impossible not to form a tendre for you. ”
“You do not know enough of my character to reasonably form such an attachment. Besides, you know where my mum resides, what her troubles are. Who is to say I might not become like her? A man of sound mind would not willingly entertain even a friendship with me.”
“A man of sound mind would understand you are not your ma and would seek to better know the woman who, though quiet, obviously has a tender heart and the potential to become a great friend and companion.”
The soft parting of her lips and slight rounding of her eyes—a beautiful chocolate color, which he saw now that he could study them unabashedly—painted her as awestruck and sweetly innocent.
Had he the liberty, he would take her hands in his, but doing so would be a misstep. He’d have to content himself with simply asking, “What do you say, Miss Davis? Will you allow me the opportunity to become better acquainted with you?”
She blinked, and the mask returned. “My father is against forming acquaintances with anyone connected to the opera.”
Well then, Ezekiel would have to change both their minds.
Before he could say as much, a chorus woman—for Mrs. Reed could hardly be called a girl when older than even Miss Soldene—entered the room.
So much for declarations. Actions would be the best tactic anyway, and he knew just how he’d start.
If Miss Davis’s friends were willing to help him.
Mrs. Reed took in the room of lively conversation and frowned until her gaze landed upon him and Miss Davis. She directed her steps toward them, and Ezekiel had to set aside the disappointment that his time alone with Miss Davis had come to an end.
“Who is this beauty, Mr. Beaumont?” she gushed. “Your intended? The girls will be heartbroken to discover you’re already taken.”
Perhaps this was his chance to win Miss Davis’s favor. If he couldn’t introduce Miss Davis to Miss Soldene, Mrs. Reed was the next best thing. “Mrs. Helen Reed, may I have the pleasure of introducing you to my friend, Miss Nora Davis. She’s quite the talented singer.”
Miss Davis’s attention shot to him. He couldn’t tell if she was pleased with the compliment or wanted to murder him for it. Why did the woman have to be so hard to read?
“A singer? Really.” Instead of the typical brushing off of such a statement, Mrs. Reed took a keen interest in Miss Davis. “What type of singer are you? A soprano, mezzo, contralto?”
“Mezzo, but Mr. Beaumont exaggerates my skill.” Miss Davis averted her gaze and spoke quietly.
“Or you are too humble, but that is easily determined. Who do you study under?”
“No one of consequence and not formally.”
“What a pity. Do you have an interest in taking the stage?”
“No. It was enough to see today’s performance.” By the way Miss Davis studied the floor, she either lied or was inordinately fascinated by woodgrain patterns.
“What nonsense. Why watch a performance when you can participate? Your appearance alone is perfect for the stage. You have that rare beauty that will draw audiences, especially with that hair of yours.”
Miss Davis touched a hand to her hair, and self-consciousness flickered before she hid it behind a lifted chin and rigid posture. “I’m afraid a life on the stage is not possible.”
“Oh, what rubbish. If it’s a lack of training that has you concerned, that is easily remedied.
All you need is the right teacher, and I’d be more than happy to take you under my wing.
In fact”—she leaned in and whispered conspiratorially—“I’m leaving the company at the end of tomorrow evening’s show to start my own training school.
With the College of Music, all the musical societies, and the musical venues, Cincinnati is the perfect place to settle. I’ll have plenty of pupils in no time.”
Oh. That explained her eager interest in Miss Davis. “Does Miss Soldene know?”
“Of course not. I’d like my share of the pay for this week’s performances.
It’s the first successful location since I joined, but I don’t see it lasting long.
I can’t afford to lose what few years I have left in me performing in a third-rate show that is barely surviving.
” Mrs. Reed addressed Miss Davis. “So what do you say, dear? As my first pupil, I’ll provide you free lessons for a month.
After that, we can work out a deal for payment. ”
Miss Pelton and the other ladies came alongside Miss Davis. “Free lessons in what?”
“Why, singing, of course. Your friend has the potential to become a world-famous opera singer.”
“Nora, that is wonderful!” Miss Plane hooked onto Miss Davis’s arm. “Of course you’ll accept, won’t you?”
Miss Davis shook free and faced Mrs. Reed. “That’s quite the praise for someone who has never heard me sing.”
“Mr. Beaumont has been in this business long enough to know talent when he hears it, and I trust his assessment. Give yourself a chance. What harm is there in trying for a month?”
“Thank you for the kind offer, but my father will never allow it.” “If we convince your father, would you want to do it?” Miss Gibson asked.
Miss Pelton and Miss Plane stared at Miss Davis in stunned silence, evidently seeing something that Ezekiel didn’t.
Miss Davis swung her coat around and slipped her arms through the sleeves. “It’s late. We should leave and allow Mr. Beaumont and Mrs. Reed to retire. They both have work to do tomorrow.”
“Don’t leave yet.” Mrs. Reed strode to the table in the corner and jotted down something on paper before handing it to Miss Davis.
“This is my address until I can find a house to let. Don’t allow the dictates of your father to silence you forever.
This could be your only chance to find your voice, your purpose, your freedom.
It is not a decision to take lightly. Hold on to that paper and give yourself time to think it through.
But don’t deliberate too long. I anticipate a full schedule of pupils soon.
Good night, Miss Davis, Mr. Beaumont, ladies.
” Mrs. Reed exited, leaving in her wake a flurry of questions from Miss Davis’s companions.
“I didn’t know you wanted to sing. Why have you never told us?” Miss Pelton was clearly affronted.
“What will you do?” Miss Gibson asked.
“You should do it.” The last statement came from Miss Plane.
Miss Davis raised her hands. “We’re going home. There will be no more questions and no more opinions. Good night, Mr. Beaumont. Thank you for the tour and the tickets.” She left the room at such a fast clip, it could almost be called a run.
“We should go. Thank you, Mr. Beaumont. The show was . . . interesting and the tour wonderful.” Miss Pelton nodded her thanks, then gestured for her friends to precede her out.
Ezekiel stopped them. “Might I ask one favor before you go?”
“It depends on the favor.” Miss Plane cocked her head with a scheming glint to her eyes.
“Might I have Miss Davis’s address? She mentioned some house repairs that need attention, and I’d like to surprise her by coming over to complete them.”
The three friends looked at each other. Miss Plane nodded, Miss Gibson shook her head, and Miss Pelton bit her lip.
After a silent debate involving many hand movements, odd expressions, and glares, Miss Pelton was the one to speak. “I will have Detective Abraham Hall contact you. He’s my fiancé. Provided he thinks you safe enough to have that information, you two can make arrangements to come over together.”
If it took involving a police officer to earn Miss Davis’s and her father’s goodwill, he would gladly oblige. “Thank you. I’ll be here all day tomorrow.”
The three women filed out of the now-empty room.
Dirty dishes left by the performers remained on the table, but they could wait until morning.
He locked up, checked the alley doors, and left through the front.
The driver of the carriage holding Miss Davis and her three friends hopped into his seat as Ezekiel exited.
Miss Davis either ignored his wave or gazed absently out the window.
Introducing her to Mrs. Reed had gone poorly.
He really should apologize and try to make amends for his blunder.
The carriage pulled away.
A man in a loose-fitting coat darted from the alley and ran toward the carriage with a hand holding his hat in place.
Ezekiel squinted at his back as he passed beneath a street lamp.
Adler? What was he still doing here? He should have left over an hour ago.
Ezekiel quickly locked the door and jogged to catch up.
Before he could reach Adler, the man had boarded a waiting hack.
Hand gestures indicated the driver should follow Miss Davis’s carriage.
Ezekiel stretched into a run and called Adler’s name, but the hack took off without him looking back.
Ezekiel glanced around, but no hacks remained.
With no other choice he followed at a jog, but his pace was no match for a horse’s.
By the end of the second block both the carriage and hack were out of sight.
Why was Adler following them? And how was Ezekiel to find them and ensure they were safe?