Chapter Twenty-Three
WITHOUT TRISTAN’S brEAKFAST DEMANDS, EZEKIEL almost overslept.
He hadn’t realized how much he’d come to depend on the beast for his morning wake-up.
His lack of foodstuffs reminded him he’d failed to make it to the market yesterday.
If he weren’t more careful with his time, he’d be fighting Tristan for scraps.
He peeled the last hard-boiled egg and grabbed a wrinkled apple before running out the door to make the several blocks’ walk to Pike’s Opera House.
The flowers had bit into his monthly budget for taking the horsecar, but he didn’t mind.
Nora’s gratitude and admittance that they had improved a hard morning made the expense worth it.
And now he and Nora were officially courting.
“Ahh, I know that look. Some girl has gone and made you touched in the head.” Graham caught up to Ezekiel as he passed the laundress’s.
That was another chore he’d need to tend to at some point. He still hadn’t had his clothes cleaned from the hack accident last week. “I’m not touched, merely pleased.”
“I’m happy for you. You deserve to have a little fun, so long as she doesn’t distract you from your composing. Where are you on that?”
“Better than I could have imagined when last we spoke.” A corner of Ezekiel’s mouth curved up.
He couldn’t help it. Yesterday had been the first real progress he’d made, and it had all been because of the woman who’d worked alongside him.
It was easy to put into music the way Nora made him feel, to pretend the declarations she sang were meant for him and not some fictitious insurrectionist. “I now have a muse to help me along.”
“Even better. Who is she? One of the actresses in Keene’s troupe? Or did ol’ Crosley finally go and hire some permanent staff to work as supernumeraries?”
“Neither. She’s a woman completely unconnected to the opera, but I think she would make a wonderful Princess Seraphina.”
Graham scoffed. “Sounds like she’s more siren than muse to me. No connections to the opera, and yet you’re ready to cast her in a principal role? Does she actually have a singing voice, or are you merely attempting to earn the woman’s favor?”
“Oh, she’s a true mezzo, albeit informally trained.” “Informally?”
“She’s been taking weekly lessons from her ma”—he nodded a greeting to a passing gentleman and lowered his voice—“at the same place I visit mine.”
Graham pinched the bridge of his nose. “Please don’t tell me you’ve gone and fallen for a woman whose mother is a patient.
Women are far more susceptible to the ailments of their parentage than men.
To court such a woman would risk your future family.
Hasn’t it been hard enough to walk this road with your mother? You don’t want to walk it with a wife.”
“Just because her ma suffers doesn’t mean she will.”
“Love makes every man a fool. So what is her name, and what do you know about her mother’s illness?”
Ezekiel could trust Graham, not to mention he might shed light on the secrets Nora still held. “Her name is Nora Davis, and—” After a glance to ensure no one stood close enough to hear, Ezekiel continued in a hushed tone. “I believe Nora’s ma is Constanza Brisbane.”
Graham stopped walking. When Ezekiel kept moving, Graham raced to catch up. “The missing opera singer? What would give you such a notion?”
“Because Nora’s ma declared herself so, and I’ve heard her sing. That voice is well-trained and well-maintained.”
Graham dismissed the explanation with a wave of his hand.
“All that means is she was a trained singer. Not everyone who sings becomes famous. I am sure there are plenty of singers far better than Mrs. Brisbane who are lost to obscurity simply because they have neither the means nor connections to make it to the grand stages of this country. Given the woman’s location, you cannot believe a word of what she says.
She probably only wishes she were Constanza. ”
It was a logical explanation, one Ezekiel could have readily accepted if he didn’t have more to support his claim. “Adam Adler from the Soldene Opera Company knew Constanza before she left the stage and could describe Nora without ever having seen her.”
Graham muttered an oath. “What did you tell Adler?”
“I mentioned Mrs. Brisbane to him, but when he displayed a disconcerting interest, I allowed no more conversation about her or Nora.”
“You should have come to me. I know everyone who’s been in the business for the last forty years.” He massaged his forehead before speaking again. “Did Adler leave with the company on Saturday?”
“I didn’t follow him to the train, but he did leave with the company’s baggage wagon.”
“What about his sister? Did she leave?”
“Sister?”
“Yes. His sister was in the chorus, an older woman.”
Older woman. Mrs. Reed? Was she Adler’s sister? They were both from England. “How do you know—”
“I told you, I know everyone in the business.”
An unsettled feeling twisted Ezekiel’s gut. If Adler and Mrs. Reed were siblings, did they share the same interest in Nora and Mrs. Davis? It would explain Mrs. Reed’s generous invitation.
“If the sister was Mrs. Reed, she is still in town. She offered to give Nora free singing lessons.”
“She what?” Graham’s voice was oddly strained as he continued. “Nora shouldn’t take lessons from a chorus woman, especially that one. Free or otherwise.”
Graham’s insistence only fed Ezekiel’s growing apprehension. Had Alder employed his sister to get close to Nora when Ezekiel had effectively obstructed his attempts?
Graham stepped around a bit of debris, then changed the subject. “How close have you become to Nora?”
“We’re courting, and I have every intention of marrying her if she’ll have me.”
Graham’s brows disappeared beneath his shaggy hairline. “And her father allowed it?”
Ezekiel focused on the cracked and uneven sidewalk. It probably didn’t show him in the best of light, but in fairness, everything had happened so quickly. “He doesn’t even know I exist. I take it by your reaction you know the Davises?”
“Knew them. For your sake and hers, call it off and seek a different woman.”
“I don’t want a different woman, and I’m not ending things. I want what’s best for Nora. You can call me arrogant, but I think I’m part of that.” No man, not even Graham, would keep Ezekiel from pursuing a future with her. “What do you know that you’re not telling me?”
“I care for her and her family even more than you do.” Graham stopped walking and took Ezekiel by the shoulders. “You’re a good man, and she’d be blessed to have you, if your connections to the opera didn’t put her and her family at risk. But they do. Let her go.”
“No. Tell me where the danger is coming from so I can protect her.”
“You are the danger, Ezekiel. Break it off and discourage her from the stage. It’s the best way to keep her safe.”
“Safe from what?”
Graham straightened. “Her mother’s past.”
“Who is she, Graham? Is she Constanza Brisbane? Or is she—” What was the latest name she’d claimed?
“Maybe one day I can give you answers, but not today. Do the right thing. Let her go.” Graham strode away but spun and walked backward a few steps. “And get that operetta composed.” He disappeared around the corner.
Whatever past Graham hinted at, Nora must know about it.
It would explain her initial reluctance to form an acquaintance with Ezekiel.
If Ezekiel questioned her, would she trust him enough now to speak of it?
He wouldn’t give up, no matter what Graham said.
Ezekiel and Nora would continue to work on the opera, but he’d discourage her from singing lessons with Mrs. Reed, all while he pursued answers to this mysterious and dangerous past.
“I can’t believe you think you were attacked on Saturday and you’re just now telling us on Thursday.
” Flossie unhooked the leash from Harold, and he bounded straight to Nora’s basket, where he was accustomed to finding yarn balls to unwind.
Hopefully he’d be disappointed by its emptiness and take a nap.
“Abraham and I were even here on Sunday.” Lydia paced the length of the wall, proof of how frustrated she was. “Any evidence of someone sneaking around outside your windows or doors is long gone by now.”
Nora winced. “You didn’t tell Abraham before coming here, did you?”
Lydia stopped and glared at her. “You asked me not to in your note, so I didn’t. But I still think it’s a mistake.”
“I don’t even know if it really happened. Do you know how hard it is to admit that I might be losing my mind? That maybe your next visit with me will be at Longview?”
Theresa played with the lock of the window that had been partially open on Saturday. “You’re not going to Longview, no matter if the attack happened or not. But it is important that we determine if you are in danger, so start from the beginning and take us through the end.”
“Look at Theresa being the voice of reason today,” Flossie teased.
Theresa stuck out her tongue. “I’m not always impulsive and illogical. I can be reasonable when I want to be. It’s just not as fun.”
Nora walked them through her day, literally retracing her footsteps as they searched for how someone might have sneaked in the house without her notice.
The first possibility had been while she was singing upstairs, but then why wait so long to attack her?
It happened hours after she finished. Nora retrieved the libretto, several pages now missing, and returned to the kitchen.
“So you read the libretto here, and that front window was the one potentially unlocked, correct?” Lydia asked.
At Nora’s nod, Lydia directed Theresa to go outside and attempt to climb through the window without being noticed.
Theresa grumbled about sending the shortest person for the job, but they all knew she was the only one who still regularly climbed trees.
Usually it was to slip in or out of her house without Colonel Plane knowing, but she was still the most agile.
Hopefully no one would think her a burglar and report her.
Abraham would not be amused and would demand to know what they were up to.
Though they heard Theresa struggle her way in, it had been quiet enough to miss while engrossed in reading the libretto.
It would explain how Nora checked all the locks before bed and still found one undone later.
Add in the sounds she thought were raccoons in the attic, and the possibility she was really attacked grew.
Nora wasn’t sure if she was relieved or more unsettled by that.
In her room again, they looked for the missing libretto pages as proof they’d been dropped upstairs and not in the parlor.
Flossie rose from her search on the floor by Nora’s nightstand. “What’s this? ‘Donna Anna, given yesterday’s events—’”
Nora snatched Ezekiel’s note from Flossie’s hands.
“Donna Anna?” Theresa’s head tilted, then a grin broke free. “Isn’t that what Mr. Beaumont called you at my house?”
“Look at Nora blush,” Lydia joined in. “I bet those flowers aren’t just Lily brightening the room.”
Nora shoved Ezekiel’s note in her pocket with the knitting needles.
“Mum’s no longer allowed visitors, and Mr. Beaumont was attempting to cheer me.
” Actually, that was the perfect way to turn the conversation.
“She’s claiming to be Katherine Yates, the heroine of her libretto.
She’s never lied about who she is or believed herself to be someone else.
Do you think there is more to this libretto than Mum coping with my kidnapping? ”
“First off, I know what you’re doing.” Lydia leveled her with a look. “Second, I’m sorry. And third, it’s something to consider. What do you know of Katherine—”
Harold barked like he was demanding someone to play with him, but he was downstairs and everyone else upstairs.
Was Lily back from the market already? A loud crash followed, mixed with cat yowls and dog yips.
Tristan! Oh heavens, he must have escaped the room she’d stuck him in knowing Harold was coming.
Nora raced down the stairs, praying Tristan would be all right and Ezekiel wouldn’t hate her for putting his mum’s favorite pet in harm’s way.
When she skidded into the parlor, Tristan sat hissing at a chair with his tail lashing back and forth.
Harold’s whimper came from beneath the chair, and Nora dropped to all fours to peek at him.
Poor Harold lay with his head on his paws and big eyes begging her to rescue him .
. . from Tristan. A dog was scared of a cat?
Either Tristan had learned how to fight or Harold was chicken-livered.
“Harold!” Flossie’s panicked voice lessened Nora’s amusement. Nora scooped up Tristan, and he meowed his demand to be released.
“Oh, baby, are you okay?” Flossie retrieved her terrified pooch and cradled him like a child as she cooed at him.
Once the pets were separated and settled again, Nora asked the question she dreaded. “So what do you think? Did I imagine it? Or was I attacked?”
Flossie stroked the now-snoring pup on her lap.
“There is no solid evidence either way. Both are possible, but I lean toward it happening. I know you’re afraid because of what happened to your mother, but it’s not like you to have an overactive imagination.
Have you seen Ursula and Winston around since then? ”
Nora swallowed. “I’ve seen one or the other following me almost every day since, but never where there is a crowd that would prove them to be real or imagined.”
The clock struck one, meaning Ezekiel should arrive at Mrs. Jerden’s soon.
How had the morning gone by so quickly, and how would she get the Guardians to leave without giving away the reason?
With as often as they’d teased Lydia for running off to meet Abraham, it was embarrassing to admit Nora now understood why Lydia was so eager.
“You shouldn’t be alone. We can take turns running errands with you.”
“You all have your own responsibilities. You don’t need to spend your days with me. Lily is sufficient, and I’ll make sure she goes anywhere I need. Father should be home any day now. Speaking of errands, I promised Mrs. Jerden I’d come over for a visit about now.”
Nora was fairly certain they suspected her, but after a promise to spend the night with one of them if Father didn’t return by supper, they agreed to reconvene tomorrow afternoon.
Now she just needed to get a peevish Tristan over to Mrs. Jerden’s without getting scratched or without his escaping to chase the chickens in the courtyard again.