Thalia regarded him in silence. Nutall knew Thalia better than anyone living. But Thalia had never really known Nutall at all, had she?
“You’ll do very well as a solo act,” Nutall assured her. “I was holding you back, really.”
Thalia knew teasing when she heard it, but she was in no mood to tease back. “You weren’t. Who will introduce my act while you’re with your charming family?”
Mrs. Viridian approached, frowning. Nutall waved her away, but she ignored him.
“You will speak for yourself,” Nutall told Thalia, “just as you did today.”
“Enough talking.” Mrs. Viridian put her hand on Nutall’s shoulder and pulled him away. Together they left the theater, with His Excellency Mr. Viridian trailing behind.
Thalia didn’t protest. She watched them go.
At her elbow, Nell spoke softly. “Your friend didn’t look at all happy, did he?”
Thalia startled slightly. “No.”
“Nor do you,” said Nell. “But I have good news for us both. The patrons of the Board of Trade have come. They must have made up their minds about our ordeals at last. Come. Meet them.”
To Thalia’s surprise, there were now three women in the theater who had not attended her performance. They stood just inside the Palace of Mystery’s main door, surveying the scene before them with eyebrows raised. The remaining members of the audience kept a respectful distance from them.
All three women were elegantly dressed. All three were in late middle age, rather old for Traders. None of them seemed impressed by Thalia or the little theater. The tallest of the three looked as if she smelled something bad. The other two were perfectly impassive.
Since a dead manticore was sprawled across the stage, the theater actually did smell terrible, but Thalia suspected that had nothing to do with the tall woman’s expression.
“I’ll introduce you, shall I?” Nell was ablaze with excitement.
“Right. Good. Perfect,” lied Thalia. She put down her sword and followed her friend.
Chapter Sixteen
Nell curtsied as she greeted the newcomers. “Allow me to present Miss Thalia Cutler, stage magician. Miss Cutler, please make the acquaintance of the current patrons of the Board of Trade.”
Thalia kept her curtsy as close to Nell’s plain style as she could. She had a distinct sense that it was no time for the Lady of the Lake’s elaborate version. “I’m pleased to meet you.” Somehow her voice came out slightly askew, higher than usual, like a frightened little girl’s. Thalia winced.
“This is Mrs. Isabella Kipling,” Nell murmured respectfully.
Mrs. Kipling was a black woman with piercing eyes, high cheekbones, and a wide mouth bracketed by lines that hinted at frequent sarcasm. She wore flowing black and carried a walking stick. Beneath her Parisian hat, her cloud of graying hair was confined in a beaded snood. “Miss Cutler.”
Thalia stood straight. “I am pleased to meet you.”
“This is Miss Emma Carey-Thomas.” Nell sounded reverent as she added, “And this is Madame Speranza Gillyflower.”
Miss Carey-Thomas, a white woman somewhere in her sixties, had close-set eyes, a narrow mouth, and a long, pointed nose. Her silhouette was fifteen years out of fashion, a pinch-waisted corset and a voluminous bustle beneath layers of dark serge ornamented with black braid. Her straight hair was iron gray, parted in the center, coiled in a tight knot at the nape of her neck, and topped off with a cap of filmy gray tulle suitable for a woman half her age.
Madame Gillyflower, the oldest of the three, was also the broadest and the tallest. She was black and wore her hair in braids. She had a round face and a mole—or a beauty mark—on her cheekbone. Unlike her drab companions, she wore bright colors, a bottle-green velvet bodice over a white shift and full skirts of brown and orange. Her hat was a twist of the same green velvet piped with gold braid. Unlike Miss Carey-Thomas’s unfortunate cap, Madame Gillyflower’s hat suited her so well it made her seem younger than her advanced years.
Thalia had to clear her throat twice before she could trust herself to get out even a few polite words to greet Miss Carey-Thomas and Madame Gillyflower in their turn.
Mrs. Kipling and Miss Carey-Thomas were unimpressed but courteous. Madame Gillyflower regarded Thalia with disfavor. “Miss Cutler. You are theatrical, I see.”
Beside her, Nell bristled, but Thalia felt calmness descend. How many times in her life had she been snubbed for being in show business? She’d lost count long ago. “I am, Madame Gillyflower. I have taken over the family business.”
“No shame in that.” Mrs. Kipling spoke up. “The point is,