Persuasion in the Pantry [Maid for More #1]

Chapter 20: All the World's A Stage

The wind howled through the pillars, nipping and biting like dogs straining at a leash. And, yet it was no deterrent to the men and women who stepped out from their plush carriages into the foyer of the Theatre Royal. In the short journey between their conveyance and the impressive facade, nary a drop stained a cloak as diligent ushers swept each patron under expansive black parasols. Liara watched from the shadowed corner of the building as the rain hit the side of her arm and neck with frustrating persistence. Worse still, her threadbare coat had done little to ward against the chilling gusts of wind that had welcomed a numbing cold into her bones. Soon enough she saw Mistress Veronique emerge from her blackened beech and fir coach swathed in the thickest of furs and Liara's stomach flipped like morning pancakes tossed carelessly from a skillet. Veronique waved off her army of shelter-bearers and allowed droplets of water to lace the dark strands of her hair. The reflection of the goblets sparkled under the lanterns and put to shame any woman who thought that pearls were the only acceptable accessory to a ladies coiffure. With a gentle toss of her head, London's most distinguished actress entered the Covent Garden Theatre.

Liara caught the eye of Veronique's groom and nodded. He walked toward her without delay, seizing her elbow and guided her to the small side door on St James Street. Her well-worn boots splashed through the icy puddles that reflected the low hanging full moon before she stepped through the unobtrusive doorway. The backstage smelled of perfume, and chalk clouded the precocious titters of junior ballerinas waiting for the next scene.

Rainwater dripped methodically off the frayed edges of her clothes and soaked into floorboards which creaked from overuse. Beautiful women full of lithe & grace pirouetted back & forth with slim arms forming pleasing arcs overhead. Tonight, she had been told, the ballet only formed an interlude between acts & the real reason for the crowded house was the dulcet tones of Veronique that promised to capture & enthral her audience. She had only seen the hallway and already Liara felt out of her depth as she plotted her way through the graceful swans in a comical parody where irony met her blunders with their beauty.

Eventually she found an alcove where Veronique was holding court. Liara hovered in the shadow of a pillar and took in the view. The Crimson's Mistress was garbed as a wealthy Marquise with a long emerald ball gown of rich silk draped in illustrious fashion. Pearls sewn into the sleeves & collar gleamed like luminescent moons that circled her wrist and throat . Golden threads captured the low lighting as they weaved between the fabric she wore like skin and tufts of perfume spritzed the air from Parisian porcelain bottles. Liara gawked, there was no other word for it; there was no subtle appreciation of art in motion. She was presented with unparalleled beauty from her girlish dreams and she unabashedly stared at its brilliance.

From the corner of a winged eye Veronique spotted her prey. "Come here, Liara."

Liara's heart gave a start and she pushed through the scented air to curtsy low before the actress.

"I am so glad that you decided to come and see our little performance today, my darling. Tonight you will have the chance to observe the play and what it means to be an actress, but take care to remember that beneath these glittering robes I am a courtesan at heart and that knowledge is bone deep. A true courtesan's performance is never simply in one building or another. Was it not Shakespeare who said 'The world is but a stage and all the men and women merely players?' " She laughed and its richness dulled her clothes in comparison.

It did not seem like she actually required an answer and for that and many other things Liara was grateful. She had of course heard of Shakespeare but even in the reading that was enforced by Verushka, there was no way that she could have obtained his plays and sonnets.