A Midnight Dance by Joanna Davidson Politano

Author:Joanna Davidson Politano
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historical Romance;Christian Fiction;FIC042110;FIC042030;FIC027170
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 2021-08-02T00:00:00+00:00

21

The violinist began, and I stood, grounded and strong. Poised. The LORD is my rock, and my fortress. How right, how very sweet, to weave these precious lines from childhood into my adult dream. How well they melded into one beautiful work of art.

Then on cue I swept up into a bold arabesque, chest lifted, the words of the Eighteenth Psalm threading through my mind. And he rode upon a cherub, and did fly: yea, he did fly upon the wings of the wind. Like the swans, I propelled myself across the stage with strength and precision, then slowed and opened my arms.

Several critical pairs of eyes were upon me, evaluating my every breath, but they felt almost distant. Yea, thou liftest me up above those that rise up against me.

I spun, arms in close, then burst up into an assemblé dessus with all the strength in me and landed in a soft demi-plié. It was the first time I’d carried peace into my audition like a garment, and it allowed me to dance with more control and grace than before. Fear had settled into a tame fizzle around my middle, and that could be got around.

For by thee I have run through a troop; and by my God have I leaped over a wall.

A pas de bourreé and a leap, landing neatly in fourth position, one foot tucked back. I rose alone on the stage and braved a glance out into the audience, toward the face of the Great Fournier. Only a thin curtain of smoke obscured his features, and no frown. Not even a small one. There was only mild surprise and, what, a bit of softening perhaps?

Claps split the silence and my gaze snapped toward Jack Dorian, who lounged in another theater seat, one leg crossed over his knee as he alone applauded my audition. It made me smile. He often did that. Bobbing a quick curtsy, I took my leave and let the next dancer on. My legs still trembled, but I felt lighter. Stronger. I’d done better this time—I could feel it.

Just past the drawn curtain hovered a cluster of dancers gathered to talk while they waited—but they stood silent, watching me. Some faces glowed with a little surprise, others with a skeptical sort of envy, and all I could think was, I did it. I showed them. Now I belonged among them.

But there was little welcome.

“You were stupendous.” Tovah grabbed me by the shoulders backstage when the others had edged away. “You danced like you’d been at it forty years. All that extra practice has finally paid off, has it?”

“We’ll see, once the casting list is up.”

“You’re sure to catch a decent role, with dancing like that. Chin up.” She squeezed my arms again and hurried off to watch the next audition.

I turned and caught sight of Philippe Rousseau watching from the deep shadows of the backstage area, arms folded across his chest, and my heart jumped up into my throat. How fortunate that I had not noticed him there until after my audition.

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