They’re just people, Nora. Don’t be frightened.
Several long seconds passed. Mr. and Mrs. Peachum stared expectantly at her back. The chorus stood as though frozen, their exaggerated expressions held tight. A handful of spectators shifted nervously on the benches near the front. Nora remained still except for the quickening rise and fall of her chest.
Look at me, I silently pleaded. Forget about everyone else and just look at me.
She lifted her gaze, shifted it along the wall to Henry’s box as though drawn by my will. Our eyes met at once, and I saw a flicker of surprised recognition through the lines of fear. The next moment came so naturally it felt as though we followed our own private script, one created years ago in Hopewell. Assuming a look of steady assurance, I crossed my hands directly over my heart. She returned the gesture without a second thought, crossing her own hands in a secret sign from our earliest childhood—a sign we had done a million times, swearing to our friendship and promising to love each other always. In a heartbeat, I watched her countenance change. The fear fell away, and she smiled at me. Then pressing two saucy fists to her hips, she sauntered toward the formidable Mr. Peachum.
“I know as well as any of the fine Ladies how to make the most of myself and of my Man too...”
Every word sounded clear and true, and my relief rushed out in a long, shaky breath.
“That was close,” Henry said. “What did you do?”
“Just a little encouragement. Nora did the rest.”
I glanced over to see James looking at me. For the first time in our association, I saw appreciation in his brown eyes. He gave me a tight nod, then returned his attention back to the stage.
The remaining acts passed like a dream. After the first hesitation, Nora delivered each line to perfection, and not even the legendary Miss Rose could have sauntered or flaunted better. When she sang, I felt myself momentarily transported as though in the presence of a flesh and blood siren. At the finale, when Miss Peachum had successfully secured the notorious Captain Macheath, the audience burst into near convulsive applause. Whistles and shouts were soon added from some of the more appreciative male spectators. I jumped to my feet and clapped ’til my hands hurt.
“We need to go see her,” I said excitedly over the noise. “Before she is overrun with admirers.”
Henry nodded, his eyes tied to something below.
I bent to retrieve the bouquet from the floor. “Are you ready?”
A low rumble drifted through the cheering voices, stifled and distant as though coming from outside the theater. “Did you hear that?” I asked. “It sounded like thunder.”
Henry leaned a hand on the rail and his gaze shifted to the far edge of the pit. “Must be a storm,” he said, distracted. “Go ahead with James. He’s just as anxious to see Nora as you are. I’ll be along directly.”
I attempted to follow Henry’s gaze. “What are you looking at?” It was a hive of activity below. Nearly everyone remained standing after Nora left the stage. A good number continued to clap and issue calls and whistles. The others either talked with their neighbors or were making a slow push to the perimeter and outside doors.
“Nothing.” Henry took my arm and urged me toward James. “Please take Selah through the back hallway to the dressing rooms.”
Shouts broke through the commotion below. “What did they say?” My eyes roved over the spectators in search of the source. At the benches beneath the first gallery, the shuffle of the crowd faltered, then swayed with a sudden violence. “Is that a fight?”
“Please go, Selah.” Tension—and excitement—tugged at Henry’s face. “I won’t be long. James will show you the way.”
Sharp words shot to my lips when Cate appeared beside us.
“Why don’t you bring her, Henry?” she said. “Surely Nora would appreciate the praise from all her friends after such a fine performance.”
I darted a quick look to Andrew and Jane Saxby, who waited near the box entrance. James stood on my other side, also anxious to be off as he watched the stage for any sign of Nora.
Henry’s eyes narrowed. “All in good time,” he said coolly.
Cate leaned closer and gave him her sweetest smile. “The fight down there does not belong to you, my lord. Go with Selah now, or I shall be forced to immobilize you.”
His face turned to stone. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Depend upon it,” she said, so low I had to strain to hear. “One touch, and you’ll be on the floor like a newborn babe.”