Rain splattered their dress hems. The puddles in the road shone in the gas lamplights like spilt ink.
“We’ll not be fit to be seen,” Meg complained as they dodged a spray of water from a passing carriage.
“You suggested we walk,” Nicola muttered, shaking out her best skirt in the shade of emerald. “I didn’t even want to come out tonight and only did so to give Miss Burstall a rest from your teasing.”
“Miss Burstall is a-”
“Don’t say it, Meg.”
Tossing her head, Meg sniffed. “Well, she is. She delights in giving everyone cold looks and little sniffs of disapproval. What makes her think she is better than us?”
“I agree she lacks...compassion.”
“And most other human feelings.”
They rounded a corner and merged into a busier city street. Anxious, having never been out at night in Sydney’s streets, Nicola scanned the shadows for possible threats. Her parents would have been mortified about her walking the streets of a strange city at night.
Meg brightened at the growing noise and the people gathered in the front of a red painted building. “Hopefully, we’ll meet some dashing young gentlemen who will escort us home afterwards.”
“I should hope not.” Nicola raised her eyebrow. “I want no silliness with men, Meg Robinson.”
“There’s no fun in you, Miss Douglas.” Meg pouted. She peered at Nicola. “You should have worn more rouge, and why do you hide all your lovely chestnut hair under that net? If I had hair as lovely as yours I’d show it off!”
Nicola patted her chignon hidden in the black lace net. “I do not like rouge. My father said painted women ask for trouble.”
Meg laughed. “What would your father have said about me?”
Nicola covered her mouth with her gloved hand to smother a smile. She dreaded to think what her quiet, studious father would have said about her new friend. She shook her head. Meg’s red and black striped dress and rouged cheeks begged for attention.
They stopped outside the red building, situated between a Chinese laundry and a grocers shop and waited to show their tickets. As a working class theatre, the crowd, mostly made up of young men and women, was rowdy and ready to have a good time whether the show proved to be worth it or not. Gas lamps on either side of double doors filtered a dim light over the street. The queue shuffled forward and someone bumped into Nicola.
She stared around at the people closest to her; many dressed in rough working clothes. When Meg had said earlier that they should go out and see a show, Nicola had imagined something a little more tasteful. “Meg, I don’t think this is a suitable place…” Her words died in her throat as a gentleman stopped beside them. His quality cut suit of fine material and superior manner made him stand out amongst the crowd. He tipped his hat and smiled at them. “Ladies.” Behind him stood another gentleman wearing a bored expression.
Meg winked at her and then, with a coy smile, fluttered her eyelashes at him. “Well, good evening, sir.”
Nicola jerked Meg’s arm. “I think we should leave.”
The gentleman, his silver cufflinks shining in the streetlights, beckoned his silent partner over. “Nathaniel, come look at these two beauties I found.”
Nicola cringed at the term. She stepped back as the dark-haired man walked closer. His eyes narrowed. The lights threw his face into shadows, but she made out a strong jaw line before he spun away to mumble something to his friend.
Meg sashayed forward to the first gentleman, who had a ready smile for her. “And what brings such fine gentlemen to a backstreet theatre? Surely you have clubs to entertain you?”
“We certainly do, but sometimes, we like to rough it.” He offered his arm to Meg and laughing, she took it. “What is your name, pretty one?”
“Meg Robinson. What’s yours?”
“Tristan Lombard. What say we skip the show and go to dinner?”
Meg leaned against his arm. “I would say that is an excellent idea, Tristan Lombard.”
“No, Meg!” Horrified, Nicola couldn’t believe Meg’s forwardness. Every instinct she had balked and she took a step backwards, ready to go home.
The man named Nathaniel cursed under his breath. He topped Nicola’s height of five foot six by another six inches or more and glared down his straight nose at her. She turned away and tugged at Meg’s arm. “I think we should return home. Now.”
The light danced in Meg’s hazel eyes. “You may go, but I am going to dinner.”