ALEX
The next few weeks pass in a blur of rehearsals. I fall into the usual pre-show pattern, getting to the theater at the crack of dawn and leaving well past dinner. Though I see Sabine every day, we barely have time to talk. She continues to stay with Frederick and Lord Cavinder, though I don’t like it. I wish she’d return to the hotel, and I feel she’s still punishing me on some level by staying away.
Opening night, by tradition, is pandemonium, and tonight is no different. We haven’t even started the show, and several costume pieces have been lost, two of the chorus girls got into a tiff and are now refusing to set foot on stage, one of the violinists is missing, and Lord Cavinder has arrived to breathe over my shoulder yet again.
I watch Frederick’s father and Phillip as they walk down the aisle to meet me, wishing I had the authority to toss the man out. But I don’t, not when he has possession of the deed.
“Who are the roses for?” I ask Lord Cavinder when he reaches me, jerking my head toward the bouquet in his hand.
Behind us, the orchestra warms up, and it’s a cacophony of clashing brass and strings. As I think it, the conductor taps his baton on the stand and clears his throat. Moments later, the musicians begin running scales, which is better, if only slightly. At least their racket is unified.
“They’re for Miss Sabine,” Lord Cavinder answers. “I imagine she finds it disheartening to hide behind the curtains when she’s doing a significant part of the work.”
Not in the mood for conversation, I remind him, “Sabine agreed to the arrangement.”
He raises his brows. “You seem agitated, Alex.”
I roll my shoulders. “Just the usual pre-show jitters.”
“I’m sure it will all be fine.” With a laugh, he adds, “You can’t afford anything less than a success.”
I answer with a tight smile, turning back toward the orchestra.
“If you’ll excuse me,” he says, “I’m going to take these to your hidden songstress.”
Phillip remains with me, watching the orchestra as Lord Cavinder walks up the side steps and disappears into the back. Easing my clenched fist, I turn to him, unsure what to say.
“Are you an admirer of the theater?” I ask.
He spares me a glance. “No.”
“Oh.” I pause, following his gaze toward the orchestra. “Music then?”
“No.”
“Right…” We stand awkwardly for several moments, and then I clear my throat. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to make my pre-show rounds.”
He merely grunts as I leave.
After soothing the chorus girls, I solve the costume crisis and then knock on Candace’s door.
“It’s Alex,” I call.
“Come in.” Candace smiles from her dressing table when I step into the room. She turns in her chair, giving me a once-over. “You look dashing.”
I only wear tails for opening night, preferring to spend my time backstage for the rest of the performances. But it’s necessary to make an appearance at least once. I’ll watch from my father’s box, hyperventilating until the curtain call.
“How are you feeling?” I ask. “Nervous?”
She shakes her head, but she twists her hands on her lap. “Excited.”
“They’ll love you,” I promise her.
Giving me a flippant grin, she says, “They already love me, Alex.”
I laugh as I head for the door. “They’ll love you even more than they already do.”
A few minutes later, I find myself outside Sabine’s dressing room. Quiet voices tell me she’s not alone, but I can’t make out the conversation, nor who the visitor is. Surely Lord Cavinder isn’t still with her? Maybe Frederick came to visit her before her first performance.
I think about what Frederick said the night we dined with Candace’s family, frowning. Were they idle words, or is he growing attached to the princess?
“What are you doing?” Frederick asks from behind me.
I turn, startled to find him in the hall. “I thought you might be inside. I didn’t want to interrupt.”
“I just arrived.”
I glance toward the door, and a strange feeling of foreboding settles in my stomach. “Then who’s with Sabine?”