Free Light Fantastique by Cecilia Dominic Page B

her, perhaps the only one who knew her core self, although he would never answer her questions. Still, being down there near him placed her firmly in herself, not one of her roles. Unfortunately the special entrance she needed to the underground was in the theatre, and the crowd stood between her and it.
    The gendarmerie appeared as well as a tall man in a nondescript dark suit and hat. Something about him said he was important, and she followed her instinct to draw back and pull her hood over her head. Now he intercepted Bledsoe, and they walked toward the theatre’s front entrance.
    This was her chance. She slipped down the stairs and walk, then across the street to avoid the crowd. One of the gendarmes questioned Radcliffe, who gestured as he wiped his bloody hands on a rag. O’Connell stood by a distraught woman, whose degree of distress made Marie guess she’d been with the murdered man. Another man in a dark suit questioned her under O’Connell’s watchful eye, and Marie shook her head. The Irishman had an interesting mix of being attracted to high-drama situations and sometimes causing them, but with a surprising amount of tenderness. She thought he’d be good for a young lady who needed both excitement and gentle handling in the future.
    Snow fell in small and then larger flakes, obscuring the tableau. Marie crossed again at the corner and walked down the block before ducking down the alley she’d chased Corinne through the day before. Or had tried to chase her.
    Now, the portico door or the rear door? Which is least likely to bring me in contact with Maman ? Probably the portico door—she’s likely hiding out from the inspector in the bowels of the theatre.
    She turned and slunk through the carriage lane and to the side door under the portico. The door opened to reveal Lucille.
    â€œStupid fille , what are you doing out there? He will see you.” She grabbed Marie and pulled her into the theatre and the cloak room.
    â€œWho? The man you were looking for earlier?” Marie extracted herself from her mother’s grasp and rubbed her arm.
    â€œ Non , the inspector. He has been here before.”
    â€œWhy?” Marie was accustomed to Lucille’s high drama, but the woman seemed thoroughly frightened this time. She even spoke in a mix of French and English, which she only did when particularly perturbed.
    â€œBecause of things you and I would rather not speak of. Why are you not back at the townhouse as I instructed Mademoiselle McTavish?”
    Marie opened her mouth and closed it before her inner premiere femme could say, “Because I am an actress, and I belong in the theatre.” She clenched her left fist and started her litany, but her mother’s lips drew back in a satisfied smirk.
    â€œBecause you cannot stay away. Because you were born to be Fantastique.”
    â€œNo, I have other business.” And this is why I don’t tell you things.
    â€œWith Monsieur Bledsoe?”
    Marie’s thoughts aligned with her mother’s apparent suspicions, and the remainder of the cold from outside melted from her cheeks. She couldn’t tell her mother of her true intentions, but she didn’t want to lie outright. “That is my affair, not yours.”
    â€œIf you are to make another grave mistake that will take you away from me, I have a right to know. Are you interested in the maestro?”
    Once set on a path, Lucille wouldn’t let go. Marie sighed. “I find him handsome and interesting. I may even enjoy being in his company, but I am well aware he has made his share of mistakes, and I have no desire to help him pay for them.”
    â€œ Bien. ” Lucille released her grip on Marie’s arm, and they walked into the front hall. Lucille drew a curtain back, glanced outside, and let the material fall back into place with a heavy snap. “They are still out there.” A wrinkle of indecision appeared on her forehead,