City of Ash (30 page)

Nathan said, “Don’t tell me you’re too shy. Come on. Show them what the famous Mrs. Wilkes can do.”

His urging was pretty, and he was smiling, but there was something beneath it I didn’t like, something that made me think of the way he’d looked when he’d slapped me, angry and not quite
there
. He was a little drunk too, and I knew how mean he could be, and it was stupid to be reluctant—I didn’t care about these people, and he wanted it, and it was easy enough.

“Very well.”

“I am your helpless audience,” he said.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, remembering poor Cora, how desperate was her love for George, how well she’d been betrayed, and I said the first lines, “ ‘When I am alone, I see the amorous pictures glowing on the wall—I hear your ardent words—her sweet replies—I can even count your innumerable kisses!’ ” I let myself become her. My voice began to rise; I was aware of the growing attention of the other people in the restaurant, and as always, it fed me. “ ‘My blood boils!’ ” I rose from my chair, raising my voice, entering fully into the game now. “ ‘I stare until my eyeballs fit to burst!’ ” I fell to my knees, grasping his hand. “ ‘If you will not love me, kill me! Let me die by your hand!’ ”

“Please don’t be so dramatic,” he said—not the line, but close enough.

I sprang to my feet. “ ‘Then nothing will soften you. You call me mad! Mad? Mad—did you mean it? Yes, without your love I may go mad—I lose the thread of my thoughts sometimes—you know what I mean?’ ” Softer now, confused—I glanced about the restaurant, seeing the shock on the face of a thin aesthete of a man seated nearby, and I played to him. “ ‘That is not madness! I hear voices about me!’ ”

The waiter came forward, looking alarmed. He glanced at Nathan, and then to me. “Sir, are you—”

I grabbed his arm. “ ‘They come! Don’t let them touch me!’ ”

The waiter looked horrified. Nathan said quickly, in the manner of a man both embarrassed and worried, “It’s nothing. Leave us.”

I released the waiter’s arm. “ ‘Police! I know, I know! He would denounce me—he would call me mad again! And the police would seize
me
! Oh, did you see that look he gave me!’ ” The waiter looked wildly about, as if hoping for rescue.

Nathan rose now, but he kept a small smile, and I saw his eyes urging me on. He was enjoying the game. “Come now, my dear—”

“ ‘Ha ha ha! I have become a silly girl! Why am I frightened!’ ” I pulled away from him. “ ‘But I have all my senses. Let me see—he sat there. I sat here. He said that he—that I—he told her—what is the matter with me?’ ” I passed my hand before my eyes. “ ‘I don’t know how it is, but there seems to be some presence in this room. I am alone though—quite alone! I’ll ring—no! the servants must not see me in this state!’ ”

The thin man who’d been watching rose and approached us, glancing at Nathan and then saying soothingly to me, “Now, now, ma’am. I’m a doctor. Perhaps you should sit down—”

“ ‘Who says that I am mad? I am not so’ ”—a whisper—“ ‘mad.’ ” Then loudly again—“ ‘How the echoes abound in this room!’ ”

“I think it best if we just leave,” said Nathan to the man, who hovered solicitously near. Nathan looked to the waiter. “Send the bill to my home. For now, I think I should get my wife to bed.”

Wife
. It almost made me break character. I hid it by pressing my face into his chest, and he put his arm around me, and on cue, I pretended disorientation as he took up my cloak and led me from the restaurant. “ ‘The secret police! They arrest men without noise or trouble! They are cunning. You think yourself secure! You go to rest one night and in the morning they are at your bedside—’ ” We were at the door. The doorman opened it with alacrity, Nathan led me out into the night, helping me into the carriage, turning back to whisper to the doorman, “Say nothing of this,” and then he was in the carriage too, and the door was closed, and he fell into laughter that was so contagious that I laughed too.

“Oh, that was brilliant! Brilliant!” he crowed, his eyes
shining in the lamplight glancing through the windows. “Dear God, that was the best time I’ve had in months.”

I smiled. “They won’t let you back anytime soon, I think. At least not with me. Or your wife either. Why did you call me that?”

He wiped at his eyes. “I don’t know. It was the first thing I thought of. It doesn’t matter. Ginny dislikes the place.”

I settled back into the seat.

“Did you hear that doctor? He truly believed.…” Nathan laughed again, letting it fall to a sigh. “Ah, my dear, you were born for the stage, that’s clear enough.”

“I’m glad you liked it. But you might want to go back and explain later.”

“Of course,” he said. “I’ll tell them it was a command performance, and they should all rush to the Regal to take in the sublime Mrs. Wilkes. Would that please you?”

“Of course it would.”

“It went very well.” He looked smug, and I had the strangest feeling, just as I’d had the night he’d given me the cloak, as if I’d fallen into some little game running in his head, and you know, it spoiled my delight in it all. Suddenly I was uncomfortable, and I couldn’t really say why, except that there was that … meanness … in him again, that deliberation, and I felt I’d been guyed. Which was stupid, because we’d played the joke together, but still I felt somehow I was the victim, and I didn’t like it. In fact, I wanted nothing more than to be done with tonight, however the hell it was going to end.

Nathan said, “You deserve a reward.”

I knew exactly what he thought my reward should be, and there at least was a game I knew how to play, and if it got me closer to being rid of him tonight, I was willing to play it. So I leaned forward and put my hand on his thigh and said, “Is that so?”

I crept my fingers toward his cock, but he caught my hand and gave a short shake of his head. “Not tonight, I’m afraid, my dear. There’s someone I need to talk to.”

“Tonight? So late?”

“Sorry to disappoint you. I’ll take you to your hotel, but I’m afraid I must be off.”

I pretended to be disappointed, when the truth was that I felt as if I’d been given a last-minute reprieve. Then I thought how strange it was that he’d gone to all the trouble to take me to dinner—and at the Queen City too—without expecting to get something in return for it. So I said, “Just take me to the Regal then,” because I had this feeling that if I let him take me home, he might change his mind and decide to take a few minutes to “reward” me. Also, I was wearing the costume from
Debts
, and I needed to change again, and why not do it now, as I wasn’t tired in the least bit. I felt the way I always did after a good performance—a little jittery and too awake—and Nathan was making me nervous besides.

“Not your hotel?” he asked.

“The theater’s closer.”

“As you wish.” He pounded on the roof and told the driver where to go, and then he lapsed into thought, and those were the last words he said to me until we stopped. Then it was as if he came to himself. He smiled at me—a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes—and handed me down and said, “Everything should be done by tomorrow, but it may be a few days before I can get away again to see you.”

I was confused. “Everything?”

Nathan only kissed my hand before he released it. “Not too long. Don’t fret. You’ll see me in the box.”

“All right,” I said. “Good night.”

He closed the door. The carriage pulled away quickly, leaving me standing there in front of the darkened theater, and I breathed a sigh of relief and went to the side door. It was unlocked, as always—mostly because the set carpenter slept in a loft he’d built in the heavens above the stage, so there was always someone here. Lucius might even still be around, but I hoped he wasn’t. I wasn’t in the mood for any more pretense, and I couldn’t rid myself of this uncomfortable feeling that I was going to come to regret what I’d done tonight at the Queen City.

I stepped into the darkness, felt my way to the stairs leading
to the dressing rooms, and went down—they were familiar enough that even the soul-dark blackness didn’t faze me. When I got to the bottom, I blinked, because there was a light coming from one of the dressing rooms—no, the greenroom. Dim, but it was there, slanting into the hall, and I was dismayed. I didn’t want to talk to one of my fellows tonight; I just wanted to change and go home, and I wondered if I could sneak by the open doorway without anyone seeing me. Perhaps if I hurried, if I were very quiet—

But then, as I started to go past, I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye, and I stopped. Because it wasn’t one of the other actors in the greenroom so late at night.

It was Sebastian DeWitt.

He’d pulled a table up to that old green armchair with all the stuffing coming out, and the table was covered with papers, as well as the floor around him, and he was writing as one possessed. His frock coat was thrown on the settee; he was in his shirtsleeves, which were stained with splotches of ink. Beside him on the table was an open bottle of what looked like whiskey.

I was so surprised to see him that I blurted, “What are you doing here?”

He jerked, spattering ink across the page, blinking, then squinting into the darkness beyond the light. “Mrs. Wilkes?”

I came fully into the room. “Yes. What are you doing here so late?”

He gestured to the papers. “Writing.”

“I can see that. But why are you here, and not in your own rooms?”

“I could ask the same of you. I thought you went with Langley.”

“Yes, we had dinner, and.…” I swallowed the urge to tell him how strange it had been. “He had an appointment. Or something. I asked him to leave me here to change. My costume, you see.…”

DeWitt’s gaze swept me. “I see.”

“He took me to a nice place, and.…”
Babbling, Bea
. “Well, it doesn’t matter.”

DeWitt leaned back in his chair. “The walls are thin at the Biltmore. My neighbor was snoring.”

“Do you do this often? Come here to write, I mean?”

“No. But I was inspired. You were very affecting tonight.”

There it was, the compliment I’d wanted earlier. I smiled like an idiot. “Truly?”

“Stunning, Mrs. Wilkes. So much so I had to buy whiskey.” He pointed to the bottle. “Would you like some?”

I stepped over to the table. “No glass?”

“I’m afraid not,” he said. “No doubt you’ll think me uncouth.”

“Oh, I think a great many things about you, but that you’re uncouth isn’t one of them.” I took a great sip. The whiskey burned its way over my tongue, down my throat, leaving a raw, sweet taste after. “Why, it’s not bad.”

“Not the best, but I’ve stepped up in the world. No more rotgut for me.”

“I’m gratified to hear it.”

“You should be. You’re the cause.”

He was looking at me with that intent, too-warm gaze. I turned away. “Well, thank you for the drink. I’d better change now. It’s late, and I—”

“Do you mean to go home?”

“Yes, but—”

“I’ll walk you there.”

“Oh. I don’t want to take you from your work.”

“I think I’m finished for tonight,” he said, beginning to gather up the papers. “And I wouldn’t be able to get much more done anyway.”

I frowned. “Why not?”

“I’d be too worried that you might not get home in one piece. As you’ve already noted, it’s very late. Only the debauched will be out on the streets.”

I laughed. “You and me and the debauched. There’s a nice thought.”

He smiled. “Indeed. Perhaps we’ll end up joining them.”

“Speak for yourself. I don’t think I even know how to be debauched.”

“If you’re very good, perhaps I could be persuaded to teach you.” Again, that gaze.

I swallowed hard. “I’ll go change.”

“I’ll be ready when you are.”

And then I was hurrying toward my dressing room. My fingers were trembling when I lit the lamp—
what the hell is wrong with you?
—and I fumbled over the buttons of the costume. I couldn’t make myself go slow, either, because I was half afraid he would leave without me even as I knew it would be better if he did. This was beyond idiocy.
It’s just walking home. Nothing more than that. Don’t be a fool
.

But when I was dressed again in the brown calico, I had to take a deep breath to calm myself. When I stepped from the dressing room, it was to find him standing there already, his coat on, his satchel over his shoulder. He had the whiskey in his hand, the bottle uncorked. He held it out to me. “Another drink?”

I took it and drank deeply and handed it back to him, and together we went back up the stairs and out of the theater, into the night, which was too warm for the cloak I still wore. My feet felt swollen in my boots. Once we were out in the dark, with hardly anyone on the streets, I was glad he was with me. We passed the bottle back and forth companionably as we walked, and the whiskey, along with the wine I’d had at dinner, set that deep warmth in my stomach that had nothing to do with the heat.

He asked, “Where did you go with Langley?”

“The Queen City.”

I felt his surprise. “Really?”

“We were celebrating, apparently,” I said.

“Celebrating what?”

I took the bottle from him. “My forgiveness.”

“Ah.”

“I’m happy for it, really. I was afraid he would lobby for his wife. Mrs. Langley wants me dismissed from the company as well as from
Penelope.
”

“Perhaps you deserve that.”

Another gulp of whiskey. “Please, none of your scolds tonight. It doesn’t help.”

“All right. But I can’t convince her how brilliant you are if she hates you.”

I laughed and looked up at the stars. “So you’ve said. But I doubt she would have liked me in any case. I’m her husband’s mistress.”

“Perhaps she might have forgiven you that. She said they’d been at odds lately.”

“Well, that makes sense. Sometimes I think Nathan doesn’t care for her at all. But if that’s true, why pick me? She and I look so alike.”

“Perhaps there’s something to that.” DeWitt’s voice was quiet, musing.

“You think he loves her?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know him well enough to say. She’s an interesting woman. I’d say … easy to love.”