City of Ash (26 page)

“Mrs. Langley, surely you can’t mean to proceed!”

Mrs. Brown said, “My dear, my husband has asked that I introduce you to society and make certain you’re getting on, and I have tried to do so. But you must understand … people are talking.”

“People have always talked about me, Mrs. Brown,” I said.

“Yes indeed. That
is
the problem, Mrs. Langley, or don’t you see it? May I be blunt?”

I met her gaze. “Please.”

“Your past has made things very difficult. You must understand that if you continue with this … this … escapade … Well, people already believe you to be reckless and possibly … unbalanced. I am very much afraid that this will convince them that you are much more than that.”

“I see,” I said. “Thank you for your candor.”

“And, if I might say more, well, your relationship with that
writer—
”

“You mean Mr. DeWitt?”

“Yes,
him
. And to be seen in public. At the play and then at that … that
saloon—
”

“It was a café, I believe.”

“—drinking
beer
. You must see how it looks.”

“Mr. DeWitt is a friend of mine,” I said, putting aside my irritation with him. “And he is the most talented playwright I’ve seen in years. I expect he’ll be a frequent visitor to my home from now on. I’ll be happy to send you tickets to the show so you can see his talent for yourself.”

They both looked at me in blank-eyed horror.

Then, recovering herself, Mrs. Brown said, “You mean to continue to see him?”

“Yes indeed, I mean to continue to see him.”

“Your reputation—”

“Had you delved more deeply into the rumors, you would have discovered that I don’t allow anyone to dictate my friendships. But I understand. And I’m willing to forgive you both for your misstep.”

“I thought we had discussed this,” Mrs. Brown said in a quiet, almost strangled voice. “This city will not tolerate another scandal from you, Mrs. Langley. We will not be forgiving of another … dalliance.”

“I had not thought you forgiving of the first one,” I said, meeting her gaze.

“You must understand—if you continue this … relationship … with Mr. DeWitt, we will have no choice but to … well, you will not be welcome in our homes.”

“I see.”

Mrs. Brown nodded and stood. “We weren’t certain you understood the consequences. We thought, if you knew … well, surely you would not wish to impact your husband’s bright future so negatively.”

“You must have heard that it was my husband who introduced me to Mr. DeWitt. He even bought the play I’m performing.”

Another quick glance between them. Mrs. Brown said, “We understand that this move across country cannot have been easy for you. Especially given the … trauma you’ve been
through. And your husband is such a considerate man. We all think so—”

“Yes, indeed we do,” put in Mrs. Porter, nodding vigorously.

“—and he no doubt wishes to do what he can to make your life here more pleasant for you. He cannot realize the effect this will have. We did not think you would wish him to make such an unknowing sacrifice.”

I could not help but laugh. When the two women looked at me in surprise, I said, “My husband knows exactly what I am about, ladies. And I have no intention of reconsidering either acting at the Regal Theater or my relationship with Mr. DeWitt. But please know I won’t hold your intolerance against you. In fact, I’ll reserve tickets for both you and your husbands in the event that you change your minds. I’ll be certain to send a notice ’round when the performance is scheduled.”

Their mouths gaped; they looked at me as if I were mad, and I was laughing as they took their leave.

But once they were gone, I was back to Mrs. Wilkes and Nathan, and I did not think of Mrs. Brown or Mrs. Porter again.

When Nathan came home for dinner that night, I smiled at him at the same time I inwardly wished him to the devil. He sat down and said, “How was your day, darling?”

“Quite busy,” I said calmly, taking a bite of pink salmon with sweet tomato figs, though I had no appetite. “Mrs. Brown and Mrs. Porter came by to tell me I was scandalizing the city.”

Nathan’s smile was thin. “Did they? And what did you tell them?”

“That I would reserve them tickets.”

Nathan sighed. “No doubt they were horrified.”

“Yes. And, of course, I was at rehearsal this morning.”

“Did my friend Mr. Edwards come to watch?”

“Not yet.”

“Ah.” Nathan took a bite of his own fish. “How did it go today?”

“Badly, I’m afraid. Mrs. Wilkes is very angry with me over taking her part.”

He took a forkful of fish. “Does that still trouble you? I thought you meant to buy her a gift.”

I ignored that. “I really don’t understand why Mr. Greene keeps her. She seems too coarse for a leading actress, don’t you think?”

“I leave such things to him.”

“You should pay more attention, Nathan. After all, you’re investing in the theater. Surely you can’t mean to just give Mr. Greene money without getting any say in return.”

“I did get my say,” he noted. “I told him to cast you.”

“But I’m only a guest player. It hardly signifies. I think you should take a more active role. After all, if you could keep such arrogance as Mrs. Wilkes’s from progressing, it could only do the company good.”

“I thought you believed her talented.”

I set down my fork. “She’s been most offensive to me, Nathan. I’m surprised you would defend her.”

“I’m not defending her.”

“How much of an investment have you in the Regal? Is it enough for Mr. Greene to dismiss her if you asked it?”

My husband went very quiet. “Why would I have her dismissed?”

I gave him a cold smile. “To make your wife happy, for one thing. Or doesn’t that matter to you any longer?”

“I care a great deal for your happiness, Ginny,” he said—was I imagining the irony in his tone?—“as I believe I’ve told you quite recently.”

“Then perhaps you could suggest to Mr. Greene that Mrs. Wilkes might be better served performing somewhere else.”

“It’s only been a few days. I feel certain it will work itself out.”

As lightly as I could, I said, “Well, I don’t demand that you have her let go, of course. But I should think it might ruin your political ambitions.”

“What has one to do with the other?”

“I imagine it would be quite the scandal if it was discovered that the head of Stratford and Brown was having an affair with a second-rate actress.”

I waited for his anger, tensing for a fist pounded on the table, a shattered glass. But he was silent, and uncertainly, I said,
“It would be a great relief to me if she were gone.” I looked up at him.

And was taken aback by the concern in his eyes.

“Are you feeling quite well, Ginny? Shall I call the physician?”

I blinked at him. This was not what I’d expected. “Did you not hear what I said about Mrs. Wilkes?”

“Of course I did. It’s what makes me think you’re ill. Or delusional.”

“I’m not delusional. Nathan, I demand—”

“I’m an investor in the company and nothing more,” he said, as if trying to soothe a wild animal, and I saw the disingenuousness of it, the lie of his concern.

“I will not have that woman—”

“Are you certain she’s being so offensive as you say? If you believe I’m having a relationship with her, it no doubt clouds your judgment.”

“I am not imagining her behavior toward me.”

“I’ll speak to Mr. Greene and ask him to have her sheathe her claws, if you like.”

“I want her gone.”

He gave me a thoughtful look. “Ginny, I ask you to consider how unfair it would be to dismiss a woman purely on the basis of an unfounded suspicion.”

He looked so unmoved, and yet I knew he was lying to me. I knew it—didn’t I?

He rose, tossing his napkin to the table. “But I’m willing to think about it for your sake. I don’t want you troubled, my dear. And perhaps her misbehavior is enough excuse. After all, you are Geneva Langley. Now, if you’ll pardon me, I’m off.”

I could not help myself. “To see her?”

He didn’t even blink. “Good night, Geneva.”

Beatrice

T
hat night, when the performance was over, and we were all onstage taking our bows, a woman with tears in her eyes handed a pie across the footlights. She shouted something to me as I leaned to take it, but the noise was too loud and I couldn’t hear her. As she could have given the pie to anyone and she chose me, I assumed it was mine, and I paraded off the stage with it while the others trailed like hungry puppies begging for scraps. I laughed and teased them, “Oh no! Don’t think I’ll share it! It smells like mincemeat!”

I couldn’t have got rid of them then for anything. We all crowded into Jackson’s dressing room, because it was the largest, though that only meant he had a settee and a chair next to his dressing table, and we were nearly on top of one another.

Jack produced a paper knife from his drawer, and I cut pieces for all of us. We stood about, shoving pieces of moist, rich pie heady with spice and sweetness into our mouths, laughing and heedless of our makeup and costumes or the people waiting in the hall outside—even Brody traded his entourage for pie.

“What’d you do for this, Bea?” Jack mumbled around a bite. “Give her a fortune in gold?”

“She was moved by my performance,” I told him.

William Galloway laughed. “It couldn’t be just that!”

I made a face at him.

“Perhaps she’s another lonely wife wanting acting lessons,” said Jack. “At last, a payment worth the trouble!”

“Even pie such as this isn’t worth working with a lack of talent,” Aloysius said.

Brody laughed. “So you say, Aloys, but look at you, acting with Mrs. Langley just because Lucius tells you to. Ain’t no reward in it.”

“Ah, but you know, I do think she has an instinct,” Aloys said slowly. He didn’t look at me as he said it, and I was glad. I didn’t want to talk about Mrs. Langley.

Jack snorted. “An instinct? For what, pray tell?”

“She knows how to deliver a line.” Aloys’s dark gaze swept us. “Don’t tell me I’m alone in thinking this. Surely the rest of you saw it as well. Bea, even you must admit it.”

“She has more talent than I thought, there’s no doubt of that,” Mrs. Chace said, popping the last crumb of her pie into her mouth and swallowing noisily.

My appetite for the pie vanished. “That’s hardly the same thing as being able to act,” I said meanly. I dropped my piece back onto the plate.

Brody said eagerly, “Are you done with that? Can I have it?”

“Yes, I’m done,” I said, and when he took it, shoving it into his mouth with all the grace of an animal, I left them. There was a small group waiting outside the door for Jack, and when they saw me, they began to babble and I heard bits and pieces of their praise as I pushed through them and stalked down the hall to my dressing room, taking down my hair as I went. It wasn’t until I was inside, and the door was closed, and the smell of Susan’s orange flower water was sickly in my nose, that I realized my heart was racing.

I took a deep breath and stared into the mirror, at my half-undone hair and my face beneath the powder, the garishness of my kohled eyes and reddened lips—a crumb of pie clinging to the rouge that I brushed quickly away. Alone, I could admit to myself that Aloysius’s words bothered me. Mrs. Langley did have talent. And you know, I couldn’t bear thinking that, thinking she might be better in my part than I would have been. And now that the others had smelled talent, it was only a matter of time before they lost their taste for baiting her.

Then there was the little tête-à-tête with my playwright this morning—oh no, I hadn’t missed that at all, and I remembered his words about what Mrs. Langley could do for us, and how he intended to lobby for me. And here I was, doing my best these past days to convince him that perhaps I wasn’t
worth
any of it—not his help or the new play he was writing for me, even if Nathan had commissioned it, and that was as stupid as the other stupid thing I’d done today, the thing I was really trying hard not to think about, the look I’d seen in Mrs. Langley’s eyes when she’d finally got the hints I’d been throwing at her about me and her husband. I didn’t know what she would do about it either, and when you added to it the fact that Nathan hadn’t been to see me in days … well, I was an idiot every way I looked at it.

Susan came inside gingerly, looking as if she was afraid I might bite her, and I sighed and picked up the towel and wiped the makeup from my face.

“Aloys didn’t mean it,” she said quickly.

“Yes, he did.”

“Well, so what? It don’t mean he won’t take your side.”

I said stiffly, “He’s his own man; he can do what he likes.”

She took the pins from her own hair, dropping them in a scatter onto the table. “What harm does it do to admit she can read a line?”

“None at all.” I gave her the bench as I unbuttoned my costume, stepping out of it and then stowing it inside my trunk, laying it neatly so it wouldn’t wrinkle—as if it were the finest silk instead of secondhand satin spotted all over the bodice with grease. When I closed the lid, Susan said, “She’s not as good as you are, Bea.”