“Are you expecting someone?” he asked, his eyes twinkling.
Rose looked at her father, blushing, her eyes widening.
“I had just hoped that I might spot someone,” she said, wincing immediately.
Her father’s face brightened.
“Would that someone happen to be Lord Elbrook?” he asked.
Rose cursed herself for not thinking before she had spoken.
“I actually saw Lord Elbrook today, while Mary and I were out having tea,” she said. “He asked me for the first dance at the upcoming ball.”
Her father’s smile grew.
“Very good,” he said. “Lord Elbrook seems to be a fine, charming man,” he said, apparently pleased.
“He certainly is,” she agreed. So is the Specter, she added silently.
Just then, one of the theater employees rushed up to them.
“My lord,” he said. “We need you to come inspect something we have been working on backstage.”
Rose released a breath she had been holding, thankful for the distraction.
“I will be right there, Zander,” the Earl said with a warm smile. Then, he turned to Rose.
“Would you like to come help me?” he asked.
Rose nodded, careful to not seem too excited. Being backstage would give her the perfect opportunity to search for the Specter.
“I would be happy to, Father,” she said, smiling.
Her father held out his arm to her, and the two followed the employee to the backstage area.
Once back there, Rose fell behind her father and Zander, distracted at once by her search for the Specter. Her eyes scanned every face she could see, but she saw no sign of him. She did, however, catch a blur of movement out of the corner of her eye. Hopeful, she turned quickly, hoping it was the Specter. What she saw made her heart race, but not with joy.
There was a tall, very thin man slipping around in the shadows at the very back of the backstage area. As he glanced around, looking over both of his shoulders, Rose could see that he was wearing a mask. However, his was bigger than the Specter’s, and appeared to be new. This strange man, having not seen Rose, continued to slink through the shadows, going further backstage.
“Hello?” Rose called out. “What are you doing there?”
The man stopped, as did Rose’s heart. She suddenly felt very much afraid, and she wished that her father was still within earshot.
“Excuse me,” she said, trying to keep her voice calmer and firmer than her nerves, which were raw and quivering. “You are not allowed to be in this area.”
Slowly, the man turned, until his eyes locked onto Rose. She started to take a step toward him, until she got a clear look at his eyes. They glinted with malice and ill intent, and she froze once more. Terrified, she glanced around in search of anyone who could come to her aid, but everyone was too far away, and she was still unable to move. She heard a sound coming from the man’s direction, and when she looked back to him, he was slipping out of sight, continuing in the direction he had been heading when she had called out to him.
His quick escape finally helped her force her body into motion once more. She took a deep breath and walked as silently as she could in the direction in which the man had gone. She peeked around a corner that led to corridors used by the theater staff and saw the man’s shadow disappearing around another corner. By the time she reached the place where she saw the man turn, however, he was nowhere in sight. She considered continuing her chase, but she knew that, if he caught up to her first and cornered her, she would be in grave danger.
With a sigh, she rushed back to where her father was still standing with Zander. She tried to take a deep breath and compose herself before she spoke to her father, though she knew that she must look like she had seen a ghost. As her father turned to her and his expression began becoming one of concern, an ear piercing scream could be heard inside the theater.
Chapter 8
“No, no, that sounds all wrong,” Allison said.
Daniel clenched his teeth together, her whining tone making his head ache. He had spoken those lines many times, during rehearsals and previous performances, yet Allison Beets was suddenly dissatisfied with his delivery of them.
He should have rejected her request to practice a couple of the scenes with her before showtime, but he had not seen the harm. He cursed himself silently as he put his fingertips to his temple and massaging, careful not to let his mask slip as he did so.
“Specter,” a young voice said.
Daniel turned, relieved for the interruption. He saw James, the 15-year-old theater errand boy, approaching him, a piece of cloth in his hand. Daniel gave the boy a grateful smile, ignoring Allison’s annoyed glare.
“Thank you, James,” he said, wrapping the cloth belt around the waist of his costume.
“Is there anything else you need?” James asked.
Without looking at the diva actress, Daniel gave her a vague wave of his hand, gesturing that he was excusing himself. As he led James away from her, Daniel heard her stamp her foot and huff, sounding not unlike an angry baby bull. Daniel snorted, and he heard young James choke on a laugh of his own. They exchanged looks of amusement as they walked away from the furious diva.
“Did you need something else from me?” James repeated with a smile when they stopped a few feet away from all the other actors who were preparing for the evening’s performance.
“How is your father?” Daniel asked.
The boy’s smile faded a bit. He hesitated for a moment before speaking.
“Not well,” he said at last. “He gets sick so easily since his accident. I guess because he isn’t working and keeping his body strong.” James paused, and Daniel thought he looked near tears. “He’s sad a lot, too. He really misses working here at the theater.”
Daniel nodded and nonchalantly reached into his pocket.
“I am sorry to hear that,” he said warmly.
James nodded.
“I would give anything to trade places with him, you know,” James said with a sigh. “If I could let him be strong and healthy again like me, I would gladly do it.”
Daniel smiled kindly, still digging in his pocket.
“I am sure that your father would not wish to see you suffering that way, either,” he said.
James nodded slowly.
“I know,” he said. “But I still wish it sometimes. He does not deserve to suffer so.”
Daniel nodded in agreement.
“You are right,” he said, holding out his closed fist to the boy.