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Cameron frowned. “I’m afraid I can’t take your charity, Mr. Newland. Good day.” He turned to leave the theatre.
Newland came up behind him and blocked his exit. “Don’t be a fool, Price. I’m offering you a chance that you wouldn’t otherwise have.”
“Of course I’m grateful. But in the back of your mind, you no doubt hope that by hiring me, you will continue to receive Lybrook’s support.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Newland chuckled. “That’s not in the back of my mind at all. It’s in the front of my mind.” Newland slapped Cam heartily on the back.
Cameron opened his mouth to speak, but Newland hushed him.
“Look, Price, I understand that you have your pride, and I respect that, but it’s nearly impossible for any student of the arts to succeed without a patron backing him. I myself was discovered by the Marchioness of Denbigh. She saw me in an obscure little theatre outside of London fifteen years ago. I was nineteen, and I hadn’t had any formal training either, but she thought I had promise, so she paid for my transport here to Bath and set me up at the Royal. The rest is history.”
“I really don’t think—”
“And surely you’ve heard of Thomas Attwood.”
“The composer? Of course.”
“The Prince of Wales himself took note of him and sent him abroad for training at his expense. Attwood eventually became a student of Mozart and later returned to England and enjoyed a hugely successful career.”
“I understand, but—”
“I could name dozens more composers, actors, artists, who only made names for themselves because they garnered the favor of some wealthy patron. Besides, I have heard your work”—he pointed to the waltz—“and I know you have talent. It’s not as though I’m hiring you blindly.”
“No, I suppose not.”
“I’m giving you a chance, is all. Lady Denbigh may have discovered me and set me up at the Royal, but would I have become the name I am today if I didn’t have the talent to back it up? If it makes you feel any better, rest assured that I’ll send you packing if your work is mediocre, regardless of the duke’s generosity.”
Cameron couldn’t help laughing. “You make a valid point.”
“So what do you say? Would you like to give it a try?”
Cameron smiled. “Yes,” he said, “I would.”
“Excellent. We’re a new theatre, as you know, and I’m just now putting our first production together. Opening night is scheduled for the solstice. We’re doing, appropriately enough, A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”
“What type of music are you looking for?”
“Original composition for preludes and postludes, scenery changes. Sometimes I’ll want a piece for a particular scene.”
“The solstice is only two weeks away.”
“Yes, I know. Will that be a problem?”
“It depends. For a full orchestration I would probably need more time.”
“We don’t have an orchestra yet. I’ll need arrangements for the pianoforte and a string quartet.”
“I think I can accommodate that,” Cameron said, hoping he wasn’t overextending himself. “But tell me, with opening night only a few weeks away, what were you going to do if I hadn’t walked in here?”
Newland let out a chortle. “What I always do, Price. Act. I would have acted like I knew what the hell I was doing. My pianist would have played some classical themes, changed them a little here and there.”
“You could still do that.”
“Yes, but original music would be much better. It will lend notes of authority and elegance to our first production.”
“I see.”
“I’ll tell you what, Price. Let’s see how you do for the next two weeks. We’ll treat it as a private commission. I’ll pay you…fifty pounds. Is that fair?”
