A single rap on the parlour door heralded the arrival of a hotel servant. Just as well he had backed off. Their claim to be brother and sister was fragile enough, without a servant discovering them holding hands.
"Mrs. Marloughe?" The man approached, holding out a note with Julia's name written on it in a bold roundhand. "There's a carriage waiting, Mrs. Marloughe," the servant offered, as Julia opened and read the note. She turned to Gills, nearly bouncing with excitement.
"She has sent for me, Gills. Miss Kilbrierry is rehearsing this evening, and she wants me to come to her father's townhouse to help her prepare, and to stay for the rehearsal."
Off in a strange carriage at this time of night? Not bleeding likely. But Julia would not listen to any of Gills' quite reasonable expostulations, and in the end the best he could manage was her promise to knock on his door when she returned to the hotel, and let him know that she was back safely.
***
Miss Kilbrierry's wardrobe was dismal — mostly greys, browns, and blacks. Black was the required wear for performances, she said. The gowns were several years out of fashion, and none had been cut to accentuate Miss Kilbrierry's figure.
Not that the violinist needed any flattering. Her face was lovely, her figure fine, and even these dull colours framed the warmth of her skin, the rich dark mass of hair, acting as a setting to a jewel. Julia lightened the gown they chose with a white lace collar, fastened with an onyx brooch, but the matching cuffs were rejected as they might interfere with Miss Kilbrierry's playing.
Julia must have allowed some of her thoughts to show on her face, for Miss Kilbrierry commented, "You do not approve of my wardrobe, Mrs. Marloughe."
Julia coloured. "It is not my place to comment, ma'am."
"It is your place to give me your opinion if I ask for it," Miss Kilbrierry insisted.
Julia regarded her with slightly narrowed eyes, trying to decide if she meant it. "If you will excuse my saying so, ma'am, none of these garments are quite in the current mode." Miss Kilbrierry nodded, not at all discomposed, so Julia added, "and a little colour would not go amiss."
Miss Kilbrierry lifted her eyebrows. "I have a coloured ball gown," she objected, "green velvet with beaded pink roses." She sighed. "It is quite my favourite, but it is torn. I suppose I shall have to throw it out." She gathered up her shawl and her gloves, her voice turning brisk. "Well, Mrs. Marloughe, my wardrobe shall be a task for another day. Come. The carriage will be waiting to take us to the rehearsal."
In the carriage, she spoke again. "You are staying with Lord Maddox and his friend? Who is also, I understand, an English aristocrat?"
Julia felt the blush, though she had done nothing to be ashamed of. Or, at least, she had done nothing with Maddox and Gills, whatever the appearances. "I have known Lord Joseph Gildeforte since I was a child, ma'am. I have been staying in the same hotel until I could find a room of my own, but I now have a room in a very reputable boarding house and will be moving as soon as I can."
"That is probably for the best," Miss Kilbrierry said. "The newspapers tend to show an interest in my private life, and some may deflect upon you."
Julia started. She had not considered life as a maid might risk the newspapers. Still, she felt compelled to explain. "I have not... that is to say, Lord Joseph and I are not..."
"Heavens, Mrs. Marloughe, I don't care whether you are sleeping with the man or not. Your private life is your own business. I was just warning you that association with me might put that privacy at risk."
That was unexpected. Well. After all, Miss Kilbrierry was a stage performer.
The rehearsal was in the large garden belonging to the gentleman with whom Maddox and Miss Kilbrierry had been having tea the day that Maddox suggested Julia for the job. The gentleman, Mr Vanderberg, proved to be the theatrical entrepreneur who was sponsoring both Maddox and Miss Kilbrierry for their engagements in New York, starting with a joint concert and lecture in this garden in two nights.
After greeting Miss Kilbrierry with a kiss on the hand, Mr Vanderberg glanced at Julia once, commented, "The skinny maid," and turned away to shout orders at someone who was carrying a pile of chairs to the wrong place. Julia should have been pleased to blend so easily into the background, but would have found the disregard irritating if Miss Kilbrierry hadn't begun immediately explaining what her duties would be on the night of the performance.
"The venue and format is different from my usual concerts, as the middle part of the programme is Lord Maddox's talk. The orchestra and I will practice the background music tonight, and Lord Maddox will be here for part of that, I believe. Come; let us see what they are giving me for my dressing room."
Julia followed Miss Kilbrierry into the house, carrying the heavy dressing case that she had brought from the carriage. The maid assigned to escort them opened the door to a small parlour, well illuminated by gaslight. The room had been provided with a clothes rack, a washstand, and a dressing table before a large mirror. "Is this what you need, Miss?" the maid asked. "Mr Vanderberg said you have only to ask, and we are to make it happen."
Miss Kilbrierry thanked the girl and dismissed her. "Mrs. Marloughe, I will want you to collect what I need from my house by six in the evening, and to set up here. I shall be here no later than seven, and you will make sure I am ready to perform. Hair, gown, the usual. Are you skilled with maquillage? It helps when a performer is being viewed from a distance, but I do not wish to appear painted."
Julia nodded. Makeup had often been all that stood between her and social disgrace as a wife who deserved to be beaten. "I can apply it with a subtle hand, Miss Kilbrierry, so that the audience will see you, and not your cosmetics."
"Very good." Miss Kilbrierry sat before the mirror. "Shall we give it a try?"
Julia opened the dressing case and considered the contents of the maquillage tray, before wrapping a protecting scarf around Miss Kilbrierry's hairline and beginning. She worked in silence, only occasionally asking for the violinist's preferences, constantly aware of the dark brown eyes watching her every action in the mirror.
After only a few minutes, she removed the scarf, used a comb to tidy Miss Kilbrierry's coiffure, and stepped back, waiting for her employer's verdict.
"You do not exaggerate your skill, Mrs. Marloughe," the lady said. "You are both quick and competent. I am very pleased."
She stood, and shook out her skirts, beckoning to Julia. "At both rehearsal and during performances, you may come out to listen, Mrs. Marloughe, but I will expect you to be waiting with a comb and a shawl should I need you, and to be waiting for me here whenever I return."
Julia nodded, though the violinist was striding swiftly away, and the nod couldn't be seen. "Yes, ma'am," she said, just as they passed a man who was waiting on the path to the garden.
She sensed something familiar about him before he turned, and she saw a flash of Maddox's amused grin before the man turned his attention to Miss Kilbrierry. "May I say you look lovely this evening, Miss Kilbrierry?" he said, bowing over the violinist's hand.
"You may escort me to my place, Lord Maddox," Miss Kilbrierry said. "Mrs. Marloughe, I will see you in the first break."
Julia found a chair near the back and settled into it as the orchestra began to play and the piercing sweetness of the violin soared above the sound. She turned her face up to the sky and shut her eyes. Yes, she was going to like this job.
YOU ARE READING
Never Land the First Fish
عاطفيةLord Maddox feels old before his time--but not old enough to marry, for the last time he tried that, he was hooked by Lady Sarah Grenford, then thrown back when she married Toad Wellbridge. A life-long adventurer and famous balloonist, he sets out t...