Midnight in Everwood(21)
Marietta’s heart sank. After her terrible audition, the very last thing she felt like was playing Drosselmeier’s betrothed-to-be.
‘I’m afraid the excitement of the day and how dreadfully busy the market was has given me the most frightful headache. I think I shall have to excuse myself and dine alone in my room as I couldn’t possibly face the good doctor this evening.’
Chapter Eleven
With only a few days until Christmas, preparations were well underway for the annual Stelle Christmas Ball. Scents of spiced gingerbread biscuits and mulled wine were in the air, and evergreen boughs dripped in red velvet bows, bedecking the entire townhouse. Marietta’s performance was quickly approaching, leaving her flitting between rehearsals, attempting to evade Drosselmeier at the dinners he kept attending, and the whirl of social engagements that snowed down on her as Christmas neared.
Still, she took pains to await the postal delivery each day, prepared to steal away the envelope she was awaiting from the Company before it attracted the attention of one of the valets in her father’s pocket. Though after the way her audition had concluded, it was likely a futile gesture. To her knowledge, Drosselmeier had not since spoken of that day. She knew he was not what he seemed but she too could bide her time – as Frederick had instructed her with chess, the long game was pivotal and necessitated patience. Waiting and watching, as the ground hardened with frost and the moon and the sun twirled their ancient dance across the skies, for his mask to slip once more.
With just two nights remaining before Christmas, rehearsals had ceased. Marietta endured teas and drinks and dinners with her family, who found inventive ways to seat her beside Drosselmeier at every occasion. He had become an ever-present spectre. Forcing them together further was his latest creation: The Sleeping Beauty set for the Stelle Christmas Ball. Large and mysterious packages were carted over from his townhouse each day. ‘For what purpose have you had them wrapped?’ Marietta had inquired the previous week.
‘Perhaps I wish to surprise you,’ he had said with a secret gleam, as if he knew of the thoughts she harboured. The suspicion festering within her. Strange occurrences seemed to happen around him and though Marietta grasped to explain them, she could not. And the more she considered them, the more they evaded her logic and trickled from her memories until she struggled to recall them at all.
‘And what if I happen to dislike surprises?’
His answer had been a slow smile before vanishing into the ballroom, shutting the doors behind him. Out of curiosity, Marietta had peered through the crack between the doors. As a child, vexed at her exclusion from some glittering ball or other, she had spied upon them, delighted by each flash of crystal chandeliers, lit by a thousand candles, each sparkling gown that waltzed past. Yet instead of a glimpse into Drosselmeier’s machinations, there had been nothing, instead a void black as a moonless night.
Pressing two fingers against the ache in her temples, Marietta now wandered down to the ballroom to check the progress of the set. Madame Belinskaya was most displeased they had not had the opportunity for a full dress rehearsal upon it and she was to send word to the ballet mistress of its completion post haste.
The doors were locked. Through them she discerned the sound of tinkering with tools, metallic clangs and voices. Drosselmeier’s deep tones pitched against her father’s imperious intonations.
‘It is the invariable tragedy of life that it is never as long as one would wish it. I do not grow younger, despite my best efforts,’ Drosselmeier said, eliciting a chuckle from Theodore before he continued, ‘and I oft find myself in need of companionship. Someone with whom to languish before the hearth on the harshest winter nights. To gift me with an heir with whom I might share my knowledge, my legacy.’
‘It could be argued, and undoubtedly has in some circles, that I am guilty of over-indulging my daughter. She has had every advantage with books, her education and those dance classes that so consume her. As a result, she is an entitled, wilful creature.’
Drosselmeier laughed. ‘I confess I have noticed her pertinacious manner, yet I am certain that I could tame her, if you would do me the honour.’
Marietta caught her breath before it spiralled free.
‘Do not be so quick to declare your confidence. Marietta is not to be underestimated; her intelligence is fierce enough to outsmart a sphinx. Though you yourself are quite the Renaissance man. Your courtship shall prove to be an interesting affair indeed.’
‘Of that I have no doubts.’ The men laughed.
Exhausted by her quickening despair, Marietta leant against the door. Frederick had been right after all; she was painfully na?ve when it came to the ways of men. Her father and Drosselmeier were engaged in a different game altogether, one which she had not allowed for.
‘I am delighted in your interest, Dr Drosselmeier. Come, let us discuss matters further over a glass of my finest Armagnac.’
Marietta exited before she was seen. Her chest clenched tight and tighter. Her father and Drosselmeier were biting away at her life, hungry and relentless. It wouldn’t be long until they had devoured it entirely.
Ida was engrossed in the latest issue of Tatler in her personal drawing room when Marietta called on her. The room was a patissier’s delight in pastels; hand-painted lemon wallpaper, wing-backed chairs plush in cream and mint. Light and soft and rose-scented.