Masquerading the Marquess (4 page)

Calliope felt weary and older than her twenty-four years. She rubbed her hand over her brow. "No,
Dee
, I’m fine. I just have a case of opening-night jitters."

Deirdre did not look appeased, but she returned to her task and changed the subject. "I believe you are still on the hook for painting this Saturday. Mr. Franklin still has the ague."

Calliope sighed. For as long as she could remember, she had worked backstage at the Adelphi Theatre, filling in for whoever was absent. Set painting was just one of the many tasks she had undertaken over the years.

"How did I get roped into that again?"

Deirdre wagged her finger at her. "No complaining, remember?"

"I wish I hadn’t been so excited when my first caricature sold. Otherwise I never would have told you to remind me not to complain about working backstage."

"Well, you mustn’t blame me. I wasn’t even in the
Life in London
production.
Blame Robert."

But Calliope would never blame Robert for anything. She had met Robert Cruikshank backstage two years ago when the Adelphi produced
Life in London
. Robert had helped illustrate the famous serial by Pierce Egan and had popped in for several of the performances during
its
over three-hundred-night run at the Adelphi. One night he had ventured backstage and observed Calliope creating illustrations of the dandies who patronized the rooms of the actresses after each performance. He had been her secret sponsor ever since, toting her caricatures to Ackermann’s and returning with her profits. Under his tutelage her caricatures had become increasingly popular.

"I suppose I can fit painting into my schedule. Drawing in the park is never as nice as sitting in the middle of paint fumes all day."

A hatbox fell from a shelf and Deirdre grunted as it hit her shoulder and bounced off. "I’m not going to feel sorry for you, if that’s what you’re after. At least you won’t be practicing dance steps all day with that taskmaster St. Albin." She shuddered as she bent to retrieve the box. "I swear the man has taken lessons from Satan himself."

"
Dee
!"

Deirdre shot her a look of pure innocence. "I’m only stating the obvious, Callie."

Calliope chuckled and walked toward the closet. "What are you doing in there? I have to meet with Robert’s cousin soon and I need an appropriate garment."

Deirdre muttered what sounded like a mild obscenity and then triumphantly held up a flowing piece of material. "Here it is."

"Um, where’s the rest of it?"

Deirdre shot her a long-suffering look. "You will look fabulous in this. Now try it on."

Deirdre thrust the dress toward Calliope. The soft silk whispered against her hand, and she fought the urge to stroke the gorgeous fabric against her cheek. It was a lovely shade of turquoise and the material seemed to pool around her.

Deirdre shoved her toward the dressing room and bustled around picking up odds and ends, periodically dismissing and keeping items.

Calliope slowly undressed and slipped on the gown. Deirdre helped her fasten and arrange the material.

"Now, this is excellent."

Calliope frowned. "I repeat, where’s the rest of it?"

"Now, none of that.
It was your idea to pose as a courtesan, and you certainly can’t play the role in your typical clothes. Besides, it’s about time we got you into something a little flashier. With all of those drab, dull outfits it’s no wonder you didn’t pick up an admirer or two."

"
Dee
, you know how difficult it is in the foreground. Too much attention would’ve dragged me further into the viper’s nest, and made it more difficult to hide our lies."

"Your companion references were well faked. Our contact has been superb in digging up the necessary documents each time. But you did garner your share of attention during the 'grand exit' "

"And, unfortunately I’ve brought myself to this."

"This will be a splendid entertainment. You just have to immerse yourself in the role.
Mistress to a cousin of a duke and earl, how exciting!"

Calliope frowned at the revealing dress. "Mistress in name
only,
and I’ve always been more fond of being in the chorus."

"But now you must be stage front. It’s the only way to attract the attention and get the information you need. You’ve been in the theater business too long not to be able to play the lead role."

Deirdre picked up a hairbrush from the dressing table. "So sit down and let me ready you for tonight.
A handsome gentleman, a marvelous evening gown, a lovely coiffure, stunning jewelry and a new identity.
I quite envy you the adventure."

Calliope laughed and plopped into the proffered chair. "Yes, I seem to remember you were quite willing to go along with all my schemes."

Deirdre pulled the brush through Calliope’s hair and fond remembrance lit her eyes. "I was al ways the one in trouble, however. Mother and Father seemed to think you were the innocent one and I spearheaded the mischief, when really it was the other way around."

There was no antipathy in the statement, only happy memories. The smell of burning assailed Calliope’s nostrils. Her breath quickened.

"Lud.
The iron is too hot." Deirdre fiddled with the iron and Calliope tried to bring her breathing back under control.

Anything connected to fire always caused her anxiety.

It was so long ago, yet she could still remember the feel of the cinders in her hair. Her home engulfed in flames, her mother’s departing form as she ran back inside the inferno. She shut her eyes, trying to block the images. That night had brought her into the care of the Dalys. She had no how she managed to make it to their home, but she liked to think it was her mother’s spirit guiding her to safety. Her mother had been friends with the acting family, but hadn’t visited them often at their house.

In the wee hours of the morning Calliope was discovered huddled on their doorstep, too scared to knock. The Dalys had hustled her into the house and given her warm soup. Then she had been tucked into bed with Deirdre and sung to sleep by Mother Daly. They had been her family ever since.

Little by little Calliope relaxed her tightened muscles and gave herself up to Deirdre’s ministrations.
Dee
expertly pinned her locks and fastened a chestnut wig to her crown. Examining the assorted hues and tints in the containers littering the counter, Deirdre selected shades and placed them next to Calliope’s cheek. Once she was satisfied with her selections, she went to work. Deirdre’s brows furrowed in concentration as she alternately enhanced Calliope’s bone structure and disguised her face. Kohl was painted on her eyelids and a smattering of rouge tinted her cheeks and lips.

"Perfect. The men will be falling all over you. And yet, it won’t be you." Deirdre winked wickedly.

Calliope looked in the mirror. Although she saw her own features, she barely recognized the reflection. The odd sensation of freedom overtook her, as it did each time she became someone new. She was a new woman in a new guise, unfettered by the demons of the past. A knock sounded at the door, and before they could respond, it swung open to reveal Robert and a tall blond man with twinkling green eyes.

Robert stopped and his jaw dropped. "
Cal
?"

Calliope and Deirdre both grinned, and the handsome stranger in dark eveningwear stepped forward. A mixture of emotions crossed his face. His gaze surveyed her with the fond expression of one who had lost and then found an old friend. The warmth in his friendly green eyes sparked a feeling of kinship. His eyes then turned to Deirdre.

"Robert, you failed to mention there were two gorgeous ladies."

Deirdre tossed the man a saucy look. "Callie, I think we should switch roles for the evening. I promise to return with some great material for you."

The stranger winked, and Robert looked like he might gag.

"Please, this is difficult enough as it is. Stephen Chalmers, this is Miss Calliope Minton and Miss Deirdre Daly. Let us not forget the 'Miss' part, shall we?"

"Of course not, cousin.
Ladies."
He bowed low to each one and shot Robert an unapologetic grin. Robert ignored him. "Cal, Stephen knows the basics of your situation. I know you will enlighten him later on the particulars. Since tonight is your introduction as a couple, attending the opera should be a safe test to see if you suit one another and if
 
you’d both like to continue this masquerade."

Calliope nodded.

"It’s a long ride, so the two of you can decide
we
specifics of your arrangement? He cleared his throat. "She is to return at a decent hour. Alone."

He sent Stephen a warning look, but the blond Adonis blithely brushed it aside. "Miss Minton, shall we begin?" he inquired as he placed Calliope’s hand in his while tossing a flirtatious wink to Deirdre. He smelled like a forest, fresh pine in the morning.
An odd choice of cologne, but refreshing.
Most men smelled as cloying as the females.

They exited the theater. At the end of the alley was a splendid carriage harnessed to four dark horses standing at attention. Calliope’s palms felt damp as she waded into the still night.

"Are you ready to proceed?" Stephen seemed concerned. He held out a hand to help her inside.

She hesitated but nodded in response. They settled into the carriage and it moved smoothly toward the opera house.

"We are attending
The Barber of Seville
, "
as Stephen said.

"
Il Barbiere I Siviglia
is one of my favorites."

"So you’re familiar with the story?
Excellent."

"Yes. One has to feel for the sufferings of
Bartolo
. His jealousy over the beautiful
Rosina
is comical, but sad to watch."

"I saw it performed at
Teatro
alla
Scala in
Milan
several years ago with my friend James. A family acquaintance played Figaro and his comic '
Largo
al factorum' nearly brought the house down."

"How wonderful.
I regret my mother was never able to see it."

Stephen patted her hand. It was an odd reaction, but comforting.

"Other than warning me to be a gentleman and explaining my role in this arrangement, Robert didn’t elaborate on the details leading to this ruse. Mind you, I’m delighted to be your escort, but I’m also very curious."

If she truly wanted his help, then she owed it to him to be as honest as possible. "I am a caricaturist, as I’m sure Robert informed you. I recently completed a position as a lady’s companion. Quite an awful job, if I do say, but it served its’ purpose. I thought this role might provide an opportunity to sharpen my skills and vary my acquaintances.'

She waited for a negative reaction, but none was forthcoming.

Instead, he said, “A companion to Lady Simpson, correct? I don’t envy you the experience."

She searched his unfamiliar features. "How is it I’ve never seen you in society, Mr. Chalmers?"

"It has been a long time since I have stayed in
London
more than a few weeks at a time.
Too long, really.
"

Stephen looked to the window and did not elaborate. A short silence ensued, and Calliope pried her nervous fingers from her wrap.

He roused himself and looked at her. "Robert said I must not refer to you as Calliope, although it is quite an ideal name for a woman in your position.
Perfectly uncommon."