Cassius stiffened.‘How did you…’
‘Embassies gossip, and not only about politics and intrigue.Vienna will be a good place for you.The musicians are the best in the world, and the audience appreciates them for it.’
‘It’s not confirmed.Karl—I mean, Mr von Miller is yet to release me from my contract here.’Cassius spoke of the last hurdle with nonchalance.The theatre owner had never held anyone back from an opportunity.Now that this show was finished, he’d sign off on Cassius’s early termination without argument.
‘Perhaps, next time I am in Vienna, you might come to call—’
Cassius lowered his voice.‘Kalina, I am not sure that would be a good idea.Your husband was already suspicious…’
‘Just to talk, Cassius.’She made as if to reach for him, then pulled back.‘It is nice to talk about Poland even though she is gone, is it not?’
‘Not gone,’ he corrected, with the old fire in his belly sparking at the suggestion that his divided and occupied homeland was lost forever.‘Just sleeping.She lives on in all of us.’
‘Sleeping, yes.’She gave him a nod and a sad smile.‘Godspeed, Mr Zadora.My husband is waiting.I’d better go before he is entranced by your Miss Delaney.’
‘She’s not mine—’ he began, but Kalina had already turned away.
It didn’t matter.As powerful as he was, the Austrian diplomat might well imagine an affair, but he’d never be able to seduce Odette.The man would have to settle for a ballerina or a member of the choir, in the hope that she’d become famous and he would possess a mistress he could quietly brag about.Or he could settle for his wife, who was beautiful and obliging, but that was not how a man like Lord Ofner treated the women of the world.
All the better for Cassius.He could keep them warm while their husbands amused themselves elsewhere without having to deal with the bother ofmore.
The last of the musicians—an old cellist named McCauley and one of the newer ones whose name he hadn’t bothered to learn—dawdled out.Cassius bent low beside the podium to retrieve the bottle he’d stowed away earlier, then climbed deeper into the pit and headed through the door that led to the cavern of rooms and cupboards beneath the stage.He wandered past the green room where chorus members were changing out of their costumes, still full of song, and along the hallways where stagehands were singing sea shanties and teaching them to landlubbers.Men made eyes at men, some of them clearly in established arrangements, while others were still gathering courage to suggest a liaison.The workers here were a motley crew.People from forgotten places, those who sought illusions and those who could only be themselves in a make-believe world—in the theatre, anyone could be anyone.The world of wooden floorboards and red curtains with gold fringes made room for them all.
Cassius tapped at the door.No answer.He knocked again, louder.
‘I do not have time for autographs,’ Odette’s voice filtered through the wood.‘If you wanted one, you should have asked me sooner.’
‘And I was going to make my fortune by selling it on the high street.Whatever will become of me?’
‘I doubly don’t have time for you, Zadora.Especially after you made that tempo change at the end of the first act.’
‘It’s bad luck to break a tradition.’He sang the taunt as he tapped the bottle against the door.
‘You don’t believe in luck,’ she shot back, her voice clearer and closer now.
‘I don’t.But you do.’
Was that a grumble?He couldn’t be sure because the theatre swelled into raucous celebrations behind him.The door opened, and Odette stood before him, half a foot shorter, yet still levelling him with a glare.‘You are terrible to tease me.’
And before he could reply, she turned back into her dressing room, leaving the door open for him to follow.
There was no judgement in the theatre.There was also no modesty.Facing away from him, Odette raised her arms so her assistant and lady’s maid Nora could pull at the doublet’s cords and shimmy it over her head.Cassius shut the door behind him and scanned the walls, the ceiling, staring everywhere but at her.There was also no ogling, if one was polite about such things.
‘I hope you have brought something better than that rot you call vodka.’Odette’s voice was muffled by the fabric.
Cassius pushed a pile of discarded clothes aside and threw himself into a chair.‘You know I haven’t.’
Another grumble.Cassius stole a glance.Nora was unfastening ties and hooks with quick, nimble fingers.She slipped pins from their positions, then began to unwind a wide length of cloth that wrapped tight around Odette’s torso, over her thin-strapped chemise.Odette rolled her shoulders and released a long sigh of relief, twisting and stretching as it loosened.Forever the perfectionist, she’d insisted on every costumer’s trick to transform her into Romeo, which included having her chest bound to flatten her breasts.She’d worn the bindings for every rehearsal so she could learn to sing and breathe despite the restraint.
‘Glasses are up there.’She pointed at two mismatched tumblers on one of the higher shelves.‘Next conductor, I am going to start a tradition of drinking champagne on closing night.’
Cassius laughed, set the glasses on the dresser, and unstoppered the bottle.‘Next conductor?We aren’t like your princes, who you can swap out every season without noticing the change.The next conductor may have no patience for you.’The liquid glugged as he poured.She flung on a robe, then thanked her assistant and bade her good night.Once the door had closed behind Nora, he passed Odette one of the glasses.Mouth set, she clinked her glass against his, then threw her shot back while he did the same.They clinked glasses again and called ‘Brava!’ in unison.
She laughed.‘Such a silly tradition.You are not to do this with any other soprano, understand?This is mine.’
‘A friendship with one soprano has been enough trouble.Why would I seek out another?’
‘Cruel, Cassius.You are cruel.’Her lips puckered into a pout.‘I will not miss you for one second.And I will not miss your terrible vodka.’
