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
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
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
“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
“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.”
