Midnight in Everwood(95)
She laid her hand on each of her suitors as she maintained her en pointe position on a single leg, allowing each of the four to promenade her. She never once allowed her balance to lapse, nor her other foot touch the floor, not until she stepped away from the suitors and reached up for that high, unsupported arabesque en pointe, soaring into the stars. She held it as the ballroom dissolved into applause.
Marietta soaked in the moment before immersing herself back in the ballet and dancing the Christmas night away.
As the ballet reached its finale, the moment Marietta had been nervously awaiting arrived. With Harriet to one side of her, Victoria on the other, the rest of the dancers falling in around them, they curtsied as one in a révérence, to a storm of applause.
Marietta searched out her family. Theodore was frowning at the vacant seat beside him as if he expected Drosselmeier to suddenly materialise. Frederick was aiming his Sanderson camera at her as Geoffrey clapped heartily. Ida was fussing with the centrepiece. Marietta waited for Madame Belinskaya and the orchestra to each claim their share of applause before she stepped forward. The ballroom hushed, expectant of an encore.
‘I would like to extend my deepest gratitude to you all for attending our Christmas performance of The Sleeping Beauty tonight,’ she said, taking care to include several of their more esteemed guests in her gaze. ‘Your patronage was most appreciated. And if you would care to view my upcoming performance, I am delighted to announce that it shall take place at the Theatre Royal, where I am to dance as a new member of the corps.’
A second wave of applause sounded. This one was accompanied by whispers and flitting looks at Theodore and Ida Stelle, rigid in their seats.
In a swoop of heavy velvet brushing against the floor, the curtains closed.
‘And that concludes our final dance with the studio,’ Victoria said, her face flushed, décolletage gleaming with sweat.
‘I presume Madame Belinskaya wishes to speak with you,’ Harriet told Marietta, the tell-tale thud of her cane making its way across the boards. She clasped her hand briefly. ‘We shall speak further this week. I look forward to it.’
‘As do I.’ Marietta inclined her head and turned to their ballet mistress.
‘Well, devushka, it seems you have chosen to honour what it means to dance ballet.’ Madame Belinskaya leant closer in a swirl of pistachio-green chiffon and the scent of Jicky. ‘Now your education in ballet can truly begin.’
‘I shall miss your classes dearly,’ Marietta said.
‘No. Those classes shall be with you always.’ Madame Belinskaya prodded Marietta with her cane. ‘In there.’ Her face powder cracked as she broke into a semblance of a smile. ‘I look forward to seeing what greatness you shall gift the stage. Now, I do believe your family desires to speak with you.’ Her forehead creased. ‘They are awaiting you outside the ballroom. Take heart and do not waver from your path.’
Chapter Forty-Seven
Marietta exited the ballroom. The guests were deep in their saucers of champagne and otherwise occupied as she walked by in a whisper of tulle and chiffon. Couples were flocking to dance and the orchestra were busying themselves with playing a jaunty Christmas tune that was far simpler than Tchaikovsky’s rigorous compositions.
She halted outside the library door. It was closed. Through it, she heard her parents discussing her in hushed tones.
‘Are you leaving tonight?’ She started and turned round.
Frederick was leaning against the wainscoting, watching her. She hesitated, then nodded.
‘Go upstairs. Gather your things and speak to them on your way out. It will be better this way, give them less opportunity in which to act against your plans.’ He walked over to her. ‘I’ll stall them while you pack.’
‘Thank you,’ she whispered.
After Marietta changed into a woollen travel dress and her warmest coat and gloves, she packed a brown leather case in a hurry. She couldn’t resist adding a few of her finest gowns after she’d packed the case with her simpler dresses and warmest clothes which would be better suited to her new life. A couple of her most time-weathered books, ballet slippers. A box of her favoured pistachio macarons, a small pleasure for her first night alone. Aware that time was melting away, she swept the contents of her dressing table into her vanity case with one hand and looked around, her heart measuring the final beats of her life in this rose-patterned room. She slid out the top drawer of her bedside table. Marzipan stood on his hind legs and looked up at her, twitching his nose. A reminder of Legat in soft fur and quivering whiskers. ‘Now to find a home for you,’ Marietta murmured, scooping him up and setting him down in a silk-lined hatbox. She stabbed breathing holes into its lid with a forgotten hatpin and picked up her cases. With a final glance around, she folded her acceptance letter into her pocket. She had planned on departing the Stelle townhouse regardless of its contents, on renting a small room from the funds she’d garnered from selling her Cartier brooch. Yet now she had lodgings already secured for her. That letter was a dream shaped in ink and paper. A glimpse into the future she’d returned for. One that filled her heart with hope and music. She took a deep breath and walked downstairs.
‘Exactly where do you suppose you are going?’ her father said, awaiting Marietta at the bottom of the staircase.
Ida appeared at his side. She blanched upon catching sight of the cases, a slender hand coming to rest on her glittering neckline. ‘Marietta, this is not the answer. Come, accompany me to the drawing room where we might discuss matters in a more befitting way.’