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The dress rehearsal for the pantomime had already started by the time Pansy was through with her chores. Even though it was forbidden, she picked up her skirts and tore down the corridor to the ballroom.
Arriving breathless, her cap askew on her head, she darted past a disapproving Phoebe and barged through the door to backstage.
Seated at the mirror in the dressing room, Doris was already in her first costume. She was doing something to her eyes as Pansy rushed over to her, scattering the group of children waiting for their cue.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Lansfield, really I am.” Pansy fought back tears. “I had to clear all the tables and set them up again and-”
Doris laid a slender hand on her arm. “It’s all right, Pansy. Really. I was a maid here once, and I know what it’s like. I’m just happy you are here now, and please, call me Doris.”
Pansy could have hugged her. “Thank you so much, Mrs… Doris. I’ll get the next costume ready right away.”
A loud rapping on the door turned both their heads. “You’re on, Wendy,” a male voice announced.
Pansy recognized him as one of the footmen working backstage. “She’s coming,” she called out.
Doris got up and hurried over to the door. “Thanks, Pansy.” She flashed a smile that dazzled Pansy so much it made her blink.
The door closed behind the songstress, and Pansy turned her attention to the row of costumes. Behind her, the children chattered with excitement, and Phoebe’s dance group huddled together in a corner discussing something that caused eruptions of giggles.
Pansy felt a warm glow of immense satisfaction. She loved being part of it all, being backstage to see the performers getting ready and then coming back to talk about how it was out there onstage.
What a thrilling life it must be for people like Doris, who had performed in front of huge crowds in the West End. It had to be the most exciting thing in the whole world.
Caught up in her thoughts, she didn’t hear her name called until one of the dancers poked her in the ribs. Turning, she was surprised to see Phoebe standing in the doorway, flapping her hands, the wide brim of her hat flopping up and down in her agitation.
“Pansy, for heaven’s sake, child. I need you onstage. Tinker Bell is sick, and I need someone to take her place.”
Pansy’s jaw dropped. “What?”
“Now, child, now. Get into the costume and be out there in five minutes.”
She started to turn away but paused when Pansy cried out, “I can’t be Tinker Bell.”
Phoebe turned back, hands on her hips. “Why not?”
“I’ve never been onstage before.”
“Well, there’s always a first time.”
Again she turned away, only to be brought up short by Pansy’s agonized protest. “But I don’t know the part.”
Once more Phoebe faced her. “You don’t have to know the part. Tinker Bell doesn’t have any lines. I’ll talk you through the dress rehearsals and the other actors will prompt you for the performance. Don’t worry, child. You’ll manage beautifully. Now get into costume.”
“But what about Doris? I’m supposed to be her dresser.”
“You can dress each other.”
“But-”
Phoebe turned back again, her voice rising to yell, “That’s enough buts! You are the only one scrawny enough to fly on those wires. Now, either you take the part or we cancel the entire production!”
Howls of protest filled the room, and dozens of eyes glared at Pansy. She opened her mouth to say something but Phoebe had already disappeared.
“Come on, I’ll help you.” One of the dancers rushed over to her and grabbed the glittering costume from its hanger.
As if in a dream, Pansy felt the smooth white satin slipping over her head. The costume left more of her arms and legs exposed than she’d ever allowed before, but somehow it didn’t seem to matter.
One of the dancers painted her face while another placed a sparkling tiara on her head and attached wings to her back with a heavy brace. Someone else helped her into the harness that would take her flying across the stage.
Looking at her reflection in the mirror, Pansy couldn’t recognize herself. Surely this radiant creature couldn’t possibly be her. This was all a dream, and any minute now she was going to wake up and find herself lying on her cot in the maids’ quarters.
Oh, if only Samuel could see her now! It might just be enough to make him forget about Doris. Maybe he’d even be so impressed he’d finally tell her he loved her.
Another loud rapping on the door shattered her thoughts. “Tinker Bell! You’re on!”
One of the dancers gave her a little push. “Go on, luv. Break a leg!”
Pansy gave her a horrified look. “That’s a nasty thing to say!”
The other dancers laughed, and one of the children piped up, “It’s what actors say for good luck.”
“Oh. All right, then. Thank you.” Stumbling out the door, Pansy felt a momentous wave of panic. What did she know about performing onstage? She was going to make a complete and utter fool of herself up there.
She had to fly, for goodness’ sake! What if she fell off and really did break a leg? Her Christmas would be ruined, and the pantomime would have to be canceled, and everyone would blame her for being such a clumsy twerp.
She reached the edge of the stage and heard Peter and Wendy speaking their lines.
“She’s hiding in here somewhere,” Peter said, bounding toward the fake sideboard.
Frozen to the spot, Pansy watched helplessly as Peter opened a drawer and peered inside. Someone behind her fiddled with her harness, but she paid no attention, her mind a complete blank. Then she felt a sharp shove in the back and all of a sudden she was lifted off the floor.
Letting out a yell, she flailed her arms and legs, which tipped her upside down. Her tiara fell off as she swooped across the stage, her screams echoing up to the rafters.
“Let her down!” Phoebe yelled from somewhere out front. “Get her down, now!”
Pansy shut her eyes as the floor came up to meet her. Someone caught her and held her tight until her feet touched the floor. Opening her eyes, Pansy saw Doris’s anxious face.
“Goodness, are you all right?”
Pansy grinned. “I’m fine.” With that she closed her eyes again and gave up to the darkness sweeping over her.
Still mulling over her conversation with Madeline that morning, Cecily decided to go down to the ballroom to see how the rehearsals were coming along. Perhaps if she gave her mind a rest she could eventually understand what her instincts were telling her.
Besides, she was anxious to see her godchildren performing onstage, and this would be a good excuse to peek in on them.
Crossing the foyer, she was too late to avoid the colonel, who was apparently on his way to the bar, as usual.
“Hello, there, old girl!” He put a hand up to his head, apparently forgetting he had already removed his hat. “Looks like the snow’s disappearing, what?”
“It does, indeed, Colonel. The weather is warming up at last.”
“Jolly good show. It was dashed cold out there in the woods, I can tell you. All that snow about.”
“I’m sure it was.” Cecily edged closer to the hallway. “I’m just on my way to the dress rehearsal, so if you will excuse me…”
“I just hope I don’t run into any more pheasants out there. I should have had my shotgun with me. A blasted sword is no good for killing pheasants, you know. They move too fast.”
Nodding, Cecily backed away. “I believe they have a new delivery of scotch in the bar. I’m sure you would enjoy-”
The colonel didn’t even bother to answer her. With a brief salute he was off and running, leaving her free to continue on to the ballroom.
She reached there just in time to see Tinker Bell buckle at the knees and fall to the floor.
“I told them not to hook her up to the wires yet,” Phoebe exclaimed, as Doris knelt by the prone figure. “She needs to be taught how to fly. I was going to have Clive show her after rehearsal.” She clasped her hands together. “This is all the fault of those incompetent footmen.”
Recognizing her maid, Cecily gestured at the stage. “What on earth is Pansy doing up there, anyway?”
“She’s taking Becky’s place.” Phoebe threw up her hands in despair. “Poor child is in bed with a nasty case of ague, and Pansy is the only one I know who isn’t too heavy for the wires. Clive made it very clear that only lightweight people should fly. I didn’t know what else to do.”
“She’s all right,” Doris called down from the stage, before Cecily could answer. “She’s waking up.”
Cecily walked up to the stage, where a white-faced Tinker Bell was sitting up. “Are you hurt, Pansy?”
The maid shook her head. “No, m’m. I just feel stupid, that’s all.”
Phoebe appeared by Cecily’s side. “Well, you could hardly know how to fly on those wires without someone showing you how to do it. I’ll have Clive come by and teach you. If he can teach Deidre how to do it he can teach anyone.”
“Here!” Deirdre complained, but Phoebe took no notice of her.
“Stand up, child,” she ordered. “Let’s make sure you didn’t break anything.”
Pansy stood, holding on to Doris’s shoulder for support. “I’d like to try it again, Mrs. Fortescue. I think I can do it.”
“Not until Clive has shown you how to fly.” Phoebe straightened her hat. “We’ll do the rest of the rehearsal without Tinker Bell on the wires.” She clapped her hands. “Places, everyone!”
Reassured, Cecily drew back from the stage and waited by the windows for the twins to appear. Staring out at the gathering dusk, she was happy to see that almost all of the snow had melted from the lawns. That meant the roads would be clear for travel.
Thinking of the snow reminded her of her conversation with the colonel. The poor man must have been freezing. It was a miracle Clive and Kevin had found him. He really wasn’t safe to be outside on his own.
It was just as well he hadn’t had a sword out there, slicing at a poor pheasant. He could have injured himself quite badly. Both he and the pheasant had had a lucky escape. She could only hope the colonel didn’t take a shotgun into the woods. Goodness knows what he would shoot at out there.
Cecily stared at the grassy slopes leading down to the trees. Imagining the colonel shooting at pheasants had brought another image to mind. Henry Farnsworth had been shooting pheasants when he was killed.
She frowned, wondering why that seemed significant. Was it something that was said during her conversation with Lady Marion? Behind her, the children were singing a ragged chorus, and she tried to shut them out in order to focus on whatever her muddled brain was trying to tell her.
Apart from heaping praise, Lady Marion hadn’t said much about her gamekeeper. Most of the conversation had been about Thomas Willow and the shoe shop.
The noise from the stage had become distracting. The twins were front and center, singing their hearts out. She waited long enough for the song to end, then hurried out of the ballroom and headed once more for the library. She needed silence and time alone to think.
To her relief, the library was empty when she entered. The Christmas tree caught her eye, and she wandered over to admire the purple glass grapes and gold-edged pears her talented friend had added to the branches.
The absence of angels disturbed her, reminding her of the formidable problems facing her. Madeline had been careful to omit candles from the tree as well. Another bad omen to haunt her.
She could still remember the Christmas when the candles had caught the tree alight, filling the room with smoke. The locked door preventing her escape. The awful smell of burning, the heat overcoming her…
Once more the feeling of recognition nudged her. She shook her head, forcing out the memory. That had nothing to do with Thomas Willow and the shoe shop.
She moved closer to the fire, holding her hands out to the warmth. Lady Marion had said she felt sorry for Lester. It must have been a shock for the assistant to find out the shoe shop was in debt. Especially since he must have been hoping to repay his gambling debts.
Cecily caught her breath. She could see in her mind the musty little parlor in the back of the shop. What if…? Her thoughts raced on, piecing everything together.
She had more shopping to do and a gown to fetch from Caroline Blanchard. Tomorrow she would pay a visit to Willow’s shoe shop. She had an idea that she would find the answers there that had so far eluded her.
Gertie was piling serving dishes onto the dumbwaiter when Pansy rushed into the kitchen.
“You’re late.” Mrs. Chubb threw a clean apron and cap at her. “Get these on and get up to the dining room. Lizzie is already serving supper up there.”
“Yes, Mrs. Chubb.” Pansy fastened the apron around her waist and tugged the cap on her head. Fishing in her frock pocket she found two hairpins and stuck them into the cap to hold it in place.
She kept signaling Gertie with her eyebrows, trying to let her know she had something terribly important to tell her.
Gertie merely flipped her eyebrows up and down in answer, and Pansy had to hold in her excitement until after supper had been served and she could finally get back to the kitchen.
Mrs. Chubb and Gertie were alone when Pansy burst out with her news. “Guess what!” she said, as both women stared at her in expectation. “I’m going to be in the pantomime!”
Gertie frowned. “I know, you already told us you were going to help Doris with her costumes.”
“No, no.” Pansy danced over to her and grasped her arm with both hands. “I’m going to be in the pantomime. I’m playing Tinker Bell!”
There was a moment of shocked silence, then both Gertie and Mrs. Chubb burst out laughing.
“Yeah,” Gertie said, “and I’m going to be Peter Pan.”
Pansy shook her arm. “No, really I am. Ask Mrs. Fortescue. She’ll tell you. No, ask Clive. He’s going to teach me how to fly on the wires tonight.”
Gertie’s face was rigid with disbelief. “Go on!”
Pansy jumped up and down in her excitement. “I’m wearing this lovely filmy costume with wings and everything, and I don’t have to learn any lines so it wasn’t hard at all to know what to do, and I’m going to be flying all over the stage, so you’ll have to come and see me.” She looked at Mrs. Chubb. “Both of you!”
Mrs. Chubb looked worried. “You’re going to fly?”
“Yes, it’s all right, Clive will teach me how.” Pansy skipped around the kitchen table. “I tried it this afternoon, but I turned upside down so now I have to learn how to stay upright. Deirdre said it’s easy so-”
Mrs. Chubb interrupted her. “Isn’t that a bit dangerous?”
“Not if you know what you’re doing.” Pansy skipped up to her. “I’m going to perform on the stage. I can’t wait to tell Samuel.” She glanced at the clock on the mantel. “I have to go now. Clive is waiting for me in the ballroom.”
“What about the dishes?” Gertie gestured at the sink. “They all have to be washed and dried.”
“I’ll do it after I learn how to fly.” She rushed to the door, looked back at their doubtful faces, and added, “I’m going to be a star!”
“Oh, gawd,” Gertie muttered. “That’s all we bloody need.”
Pansy paid no attention. Her mind was fully focused on the lesson ahead, and she could think of nothing else.
Clive hadn’t arrived yet when she got to the ballroom. Alone in the vast room, she climbed up onto the stage and surveyed the expanse of floor in front of her.
On the night of the performance the chairs would be lined up in neat rows in front of the stage and all the toffs would be watching her. Maybe even Samuel would come and watch her.
The thought made her nervous. Maybe she should rehearse her curtsies, just so she didn’t fall over and look silly in front of everyone. She was perfecting her fourth curtsey when Clive spoke from in front of the stage.
“Very nice. You look like a professional up there.”
She beamed at him. “Really? You really think so?”
“Yes, I really think so.” He disappeared, only to appear a moment later in the wings. “Come over here. I have to hook you up to the wires.”
She walked over to him, tingling with nervous excitement. He turned her around with gentle hands and fitted the harness she’d worn earlier over her shoulders and around her midriff.
“Now,” he said, when he was done, “the trick is to arch your back and keep your head up. Like this.” He curved his back, stretched out his arms, and swooped them around as if he were flying. “Now let me see you do it.”
Pansy copied him as best she could.
“More,” Clive said, putting a hand against the middle of her back. “Stretch it out, right here.”
He applied pressure, and she pushed her hips forward. “Like this?”
“That’s it. Now I want you to run back and forth across the stage, feeling the pull of the wires. Don’t try to fly just yet, just get the feel of it.”
She did as he asked, running back and forth while he called out, “Arch that back! Head up! Shoulders back!”
Just as she was getting tired of it all, halfway across the stage she felt the wires tugging and her feet left the floor. She uttered a little shriek of surprise, and lost her posture for a moment.
Clive called out to her, urging her to keep her head up, and then she was flying, swooping across the stage like a bird. At first she was scared, but gradually her fear melted away and she was having fun. No, it was more than that. It was the most thrilling experience of her life. She wanted it to go on forever.
She felt a deep regret when Clive called out, “That’s enough!” Her feet touched the floor and she managed to land gracefully, though her body felt heavy and clumsy when she walked over to him.
“That was so… so…” She couldn’t think of a word good enough to describe the sensation.
Clive grinned. “You’re a natural,” he said, unhooking the wires from her back. “You’ll be a splendid Tinker Bell.”
“Thanks to you.” She smiled up at him. She’d never noticed before, but he had a really nice smile. In fact, he was almost handsome in a rough sort of way. A big man, too. Big enough to tower over Gertie.
Remembering her Christmas wish for her friend, Pansy decided to seize the chance to make it come true. “I was wondering what to give Gertie for a Christmas present,” she said, struggling to take off the harness. “Do you have any ideas?”
Clive raised his eyebrows. “Me? I don’t really know what she likes.”
Pansy pretended to think. “Well, I know what she wants, but I don’t think I can get it for her.”
To her relief, Clive took the bait. “What does she want, then?”
Pansy leaned closer. “Well, don’t tell her I told you, but she’s lonely. She wants to meet someone nice who will love her and take care of her and the twins.”
Clive got a really strange expression on his face. “Oh, she does, does she? That’s a bit of a tall order for a Christmas present.”
Pansy heaved a loud sigh. “Yeah, I know. I would love to get it for her, but I suppose I’ll have to make do with handkerchiefs or something.”
“Probably.” Clive’s voice sounded funny and he cleared his throat. “Well, I have to be off. I have to make my rounds before turning off all the lamps.”
“Oh, all right.” Pansy smoothed down the ruffles in her frock caused by the harness. “Thank you so much, Clive. That was really nice of you to teach me to fly.”
“The pleasure is all mine.” Clive touched his forehead with his fingers. “Give my regards to Gertie.”
“Oh, I will!” Pansy tore off the stage and across the ballroom. Now to put into motion the second part of her plan. One way or another, she’d get Gertie and Clive together for Christmas. It was the very least she could do for her friend.