Lady Revealed (3 page)

Juliette buried her nose in the fragrant arrangement that had just been delivered. After meeting Acker she had not expected another bouquet.

“More flowers from your admirer?”

She turned to find Carlo Pavoin standing just inside her doorway. He had partnered her on stage many times over the past few years and danced opposite her in this production. “Yes, aren’t they beautiful?”

Carlo did not return her smile. “He is the one who accompanied you last evening?”

Normally Juliette would have taken a seat at the same table as Carlo but because Acker was with her last night she did not.

“Yes,” she hesitantly answered. Would he tell her mother?

Carlo crossed his muscular arms over his broad chest and leaned back against the wall. “You mother has been very explicit in not allowing you to meet gentlemen outside of the theatre. Nor does she allow you to be courted by anyone within the theatre.

“That is true.” Juliette bit her lip and looked down. “Not that anyone has wished to court me so it hardly suffices.”

“Has she changed her mind?” His tone was quiet and when Juliette looked back up, his dark brown eyes bore into hers.

“No.”

He smirked and raised an eyebrow. “So, you have finally decided to defy her.”

Juliette took a step forward. “Please, do not say anything to Maman.”

Carlo studied her face as if assessing her. “Be careful, Juliette. You are not of his world.”

“I know.”

He grasped her hand in his. “He will only hurt you.”

“You do not know that,” she insisted. Besides, she barely knew Acker and had spent very little time with him. After tomorrow, she might not see him again.

“Remember where you belong.”

Where did she belong? Born in England, raised in France and now dancing in Italy. Was it too much to hope for a permanent home somewhere? A house she could live in for more than a year? For as long as she could remember, they never stayed long in one place, as if her mother were hiding from someone, which was ridiculous.

“Your family is here,” he continued. “I am here.”

“But sometimes I want more. I can’t dance forever.”

His eyes darkened to an almost black and his hand came up and he caressed her cheek with his thumb. “I’ve wanted more as well.” His voice was deeper than usual. Juliette wasn’t sure what to make of Carlo at the moment. He was her friend, a very dear friend. Was he simply watching out for her as if he were a brother? She had always wished for an older brother, but that was impossible. It was nice to have someone she trusted fulfilling that role.

“Dine with me this evening.”

As much as she would like to speak with Carlo and perhaps gain some advice, she could not. “I am sorry, but I promised Maman that I would come home directly after the performance.”

His eyes narrowed. “And what of your admirer? What if he were to ask?”

Juliette frowned at Carlo. Why did he seem possessive all of a sudden? “I would tell him the same, of course.”

Carlo’s features softened. “At least let me escort you home. Your sisters are not here this evening.”

Juliette was relieved by his offer. “Thank you.” She did not like to walk home alone at night. It always seemed safer with her two sisters, but by herself it was frightening. She could always hire a carriage, but it seemed such a waste when she didn’t live far away.

The manager stepped inside the room and announced that it was time to take their places. Carlo continued to stare down at her. Were his eyes focused on her lips?

Abruptly he turned and walked away.

Juliette could only stare after him. He was acting strangely this evening. But, Carlo’s moods often changed with the wind. One moment he could be warm and caring and the next yelling and tossing things about. She never knew what set him off into his fits of frustration.

She returned to her dressing table and quickly penned a note to Acker thanking him for the flowers and that she would not be able to remain at the theatre tonight but she looked forward to meeting him tomorrow.

*

Acker sat alone and watched Juliette dance. Until he had actually met her, he made a point of never attending by himself so as not to appear odd. Now he didn’t care. He would sit alone night after night if he could, just to watch her grace and beauty.

Would she wait for him this evening? Would they supper together? Would she insist a sister be present?

No, he dismissed. She met with him alone today so she certainly cannot view him as dangerous. Nor could Juliette have a protector or she wouldn’t have met with him. Besides, if she was another man’s mistress, she would not need to teach or live with her mother and sisters. If she belonged to him, Juliette would be able to have her days free of students and only dance at night.

What was he thinking? Juliette would never belong to him. Her life was in Milan and his in England. He had but a short time remaining in Italy and he wanted to spend every possible free moment with Juliette.

Would they become lovers before he left, or would the relationship remain platonic?

How could he return home not having loved her? The desire that coursed through his veins for the seductive ballerina was unparalleled. He had never longed for any woman the way he did for Juliette, especially only having watched her dance and then spoken with her a few times. Yet, he wanted Juliette and wasn’t certain he would get his wish.

The same man who always danced with Juliette lifted her and then they bent, much as lovers would do. What Acker wouldn’t give to be able to touch Juliette with such familiarity and anywhere he wished. The couple turned and Acker anticipated the next lift. He knew the ballet by heart having watched it so many times. Except this time, instead of grasping Juliette’s narrow waist, the man’s hands slipped and slid up, stopping to cup her breast. Few could see this mistake, only those sitting near Acker because of the angle toward the back of the stage.

Juliette stilled and her eyes slightly widened. Acker held his breath waiting to see what would happen next. He had never seen the two make a mistake before, especially one that could halt the choreography.

Juliette drew her arms above her head and spun away from the man. He approached and grasped Juliette’s waist again. When he lifted, he looked toward Acker, his eyes cold and hard. It lasted but a moment and the two dancers were back executing the moves as if there had been no alteration in the original choreography.

Acker narrowed his eyes, continuing to watch the couple. The pure hatred in the partner’s eyes was unsettling and Acker had a deep rooted suspicion that the male dancer had just made his claim on Juliette. The mistake in the dance had been intentional and the touch spoke of familiarity.

If the two were a couple, or even lovers, why had Juliette supped with him last evening, walked with him today and agreed to meet with him tomorrow? Was the dancer pursuing her and Juliette had rejected him? Or, were they former lovers and the man didn’t wish her to have another? Or, was Juliette using Acker to make the dancer jealous?

Acker stewed over the possibilities until the performers took their final bow. He would give Juliette a moment to change her clothing and then he would find out what the male dancer meant to her and if he was going to cause difficulties in Acker’s pursuit.

Juliette turned to Carlo the moment they left the stage. She let her mask of a smile fall and now stared at him, dumbfounded and angry.

“I apologize, from the depth of my heart,” Carlo insisted before she could say anything.

Juliette narrowed her eyes on him. It wasn’t like Carlo to make such a drastic error. His hands had not slipped since they first started dancing together. Then it was getting used to the movement of the other and learning the timing of the steps and lifts.

“You had a firm grip on my waist. Why did you let go?” she demanded.

He opened his mouth yet no words came out.

Had it been intentional? Had Carlo meant to grab her breast instead of lifting her? Heat flooded her face and Juliette wasn’t certain if it was from embarrassment or fury.

“I had a pain,” he said quickly.

Juliette tilted her head and studied him. “A pain?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “It was short and quick through my wrist but I feared lifting you at that moment.”

Juliette narrowed her eyes again.

“I did not mean to touch you in such a manner, but you moved at the same time as I.” He grasped her hands. “I am so sorry.”

She continued to study him. Carlo was a professional dancer and he did seem truly upset over the incident. Besides, why would he wish to alter the dance? Mistakes such as that could ruin his career.

“Let us forget about it.” She smiled at him. “But, tell a physician. I don’t wish to be dropped next time.”

He grinned, much like a bashful schoolboy. “I promise.”

Juliette shut the door to her dressing room and quickly removed her costume and put on a walking dress. Carlo had made a mistake and that was all. He meant nothing by touching her in such a manner. Besides, even if he wished to do so, he wouldn’t have grasped her breast in front of an audience.

She stilled. Had Acker seen what happened? Would she need to explain or would he even mention it? Most gentlemen would not but she really didn’t know him all that well. Besides, there was a very good chance he hadn’t noticed. The hand that slipped had been away from the audience. If anything, Acker probably noted a slight change in the choreography.

When Juliette emerged from her dressing room, Carlo was waiting to escort her home. He glanced anxiously around the backstage area quickly filling with patrons. She moved toward the back entrance and Carlo settled his hand at the small of her back. Though he didn’t push, there was pressure, steering her through the crowd.

“We mustn’t be late,” he insisted.

“Of course.”

They emerged into the darkened alley and Carlo offered his arm. Juliette simply stared at it. He had never done so before, but she slipped her hand through the crook and he turned toward the street and began walking at a quick pace. Once they were away from the theatre Carlo slowed his steps, for which Juliette was grateful. If they had walked any quicker they would have been running. Why had he been in such a hurry? Did he have plans after he delivered her to her doorstep?

“I apologize. I wanted to be away from the crowds.”

Carlo hated it when the back of the theatre filled with those who had attended. Sometimes the crush made it almost impossible to move, not that she remained all that often herself. If she didn’t sup with her sisters, her mother required her home immediately.

“We have only a few more performances,” he reminded her.

Though she had danced this ballet dozens of time she was not growing tired of it as she normally did. Juliette wondered how much it had to do with Acker sitting in the audience and the flowers he sent. Or, it could simply be she loved the beauty of the choreography.

“Have you told your students they will need to find another teacher?”

Juliette glanced up at Carlo. “Why would I need to do so?”

He stopped and turned toward her. “Did Viganó not speak with you? Is he not using you in his next ballet?” Worry marred Carlo’s brow.

Oh, how could she have forgotten? Viganó wanted them to work on
Prometheus
. “I had forgotten.”

Carol’s shoulders relaxed as if he was relieved and he once again turned and walked toward her home. It was only a few blocks away and when they stopped before the door he once again stood before her, studying her face.

“Is something on your mind?”

A slight smile came to his lips. “We will discuss it later.”

With that he kissed her forehead and Juliette made her way into the house.

Though it was late, her mother and sisters were still awake. Hélène was sewing costumes for the next production, pausing only long enough to read the script in front of her. Her sister often worked on memorization while sewing. Juliette didn’t understand how she managed to do both at once. Genviève was bent over the household accounts because Juliette recognized the books open on the desk. Maman was reading the stack of posts that must have arrived after she left for the theatre. They were weeks old and Juliette couldn’t understand her mother’s fascination. She could not recall her mother being even remotely interested in the world while they lived in Paris, but since they moved to Italy, somehow Maman arranged to have every London paper delivered to her.

“How was the ballet this evening?” her mother asked as she folded the paper she was currently reading.

For a moment Juliette thought to tell them of Carlo’s mistake but changed her mind. Nobody could ever determine how her mother would react to such an instance. One moment she would shrug it off and the other, insist something be done and possibly fly into a rage over Carlo touching her in such a matter. It was best to forget the incident even happened. “It went well,” she finally answered.

“You did not receive flowers this evening?” Hélène asked with an arched brow.

“He sent another bouquet. I left them in my dressing room.”

Her mother’s eyes narrowed. “Just make sure you do not meet with that gentleman.”

Juliette did not look at her mother and wandered over to the sideboard and poured herself a small glass of wine. “I know, Maman,” Juliette answered. Until she knew what Acker intended she would keep their meetings to herself.

*

Acker practically pushed his way through the crowd to get to Juliette’s dressing room. The door stood open and he stepped inside. His bouquet sat on a small table and beside it her note, declining his invitation to supper. Disappointment settled in his belly. At least he would be with her tomorrow afternoon. He stepped back out into the throng of patrons, which had grown thicker while he was in Juliette’s dressing room. He had two options, to try and make his way toward the entrance or use the back door as they had done last night. The back door was closer and Acker maneuvered his way around the groupings of people until he was able to step out into the night air. His carriage would be waiting out front and he was turning in that direction when he saw Juliette. Her arm was linked with that of the man she had just danced with.

Is that why she had declined his invitation this evening? Was she meeting with her lover? Had the man been upset at Juliette having been with Acker the evening before?

Acker tried to remember if the man had been in the caffè but the only people he had paid any attention to were Juliette and her two sisters.

Where were they going? He needed to know if the two were lovers or simply friends and Acker decided to follow them. He remained back so as not to be noticed. He wasn’t about to follow as closely as Juliette’s sister had followed them last evening.

When the two paused and looked at each other, Acker flattened himself against a dark doorway, hoping the shadows shielded him. The couple exchanged only a few words before they continued walking. He wished he was close enough to hear what was being said but he didn’t want to risk being seen.

A short time later they stopped before a row of houses? Did Juliette live here or the man? Once again he hid in the shadows, waiting and watching what would happen. Relief shot through him when the man simply kissed Juliette on the forehead and waited as she safely entered her home. Acker glanced around for a place to hide in the event the man returned the way he came, but instead, he continued on. Acker stared at the three story structure, lights blazing in the lower floors. So, this was where Juliette lived. Would he one day be invited inside?

Though he wished to approach the door, he did not. He would see her tomorrow and besides, he did not wish to anger Juliette’s mother.

Why did the woman wish Juliette not acquaint herself with Englishmen? Was Juliette truly as innocent as she seemed? She was already four and twenty, living in an all-female household. One was an actress and Juliette danced at night. How could the women possibly be sheltered and innocent?

He glanced at the row of houses. Though neatly kept, this was not a wealthy neighborhood. Was the mother sheltering her daughters to keep them from following in the same footsteps of so many dancers, singers and actresses before them? If so, what did she hope to gain?

Did she want them to remain spinsters and grow old without experiencing love and passion? Or, did she simply wish for them to remain virtuous until marriage?

The idea brought Acker up short. Yes, he desired Juliette and wanted her, but marriage was not an option. He was an English Viscount. She was an Italian ballerina. Not that he cared about their differences in class. They were simply from two separate worlds. She would never fit into his because Society would never accept her.

He shook the thoughts away and turned to walk back toward the theatre where his carriage waited. Why was he even thinking on marriage? He did need to wed at some point in time. His station required an heir. But he had always seen Eleanor Westin in that role. She needed a husband and would be a good mother. She was his dearest friend and they would get on well. There was no passion between them, but was that truly necessary in a marriage? It would be no hardship to make love to her, but they would never have a grand passion such as that spoken by the poets.

They wouldn’t be unhappy either. Besides, Eleanor needed him, as did her younger siblings, whether she realized it or not. Hopefully, she would not be as stubborn in her refusal once he returned home.

Acker stepped into his carriage and the driver pulled it into traffic. Eleanor was his future and Juliette was his present. Would he be able to make Juliette his before he needed to leave Milan or would he simply share a few walks never having known the tenderness of her touch?