Wilde Wagers by Elizabeth Caulfield Felt

Author:Elizabeth Caulfield Felt
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: comedy mystery, oscar wilde, light hearted, gambling story, romance comedy, england 1800s, late victorian
Publisher: Elizabeth Caulfield Felt

Chapter Twenty-Seven

The hackney dropped Genevieve, Lily and Oscar Wilde off at Shepherdess Walk. Despite the late hour, people milled about in front of the music hall, including a boy who couldn't be much more than seven chasing a ball around. Mr. Wilde led the ladies through the Eagle's grand entrance and into the tighter crowds inside. They acquired a box on the ground level, and Genevieve rushed to the rail to look about.

A man danced on the stage and maybe sang; it was hard to tell from the noise of the crowd. Nobody appeared to be watching his performance. The floor of the theater was a crush with people sitting, drinking, and talking, and throngs maneuvering between the tables. A cluster of three women stood chatting and smoking. A boy sold nuts out of an open box he carried with straps around his neck.

A man at a crowded table directly in front of them turned and winked at Genevieve. She blushed and drew back, but he stood from his table and came right up to the box.

“Two lovely ladies come to sit by me.” He took off his top hat and made a farcical bow, then grabbed Genevieve's hand and kissed it. “Mr. Baxter-Point. Can I offer you champagne? burgundy?”

She was speechless at his boldness.

Mr. Wilde leaned over the edge of the box and said, “Hallo, Dex. Who's on stage tonight?”

The man glanced over his shoulder at the stage and shrugged. “No idea. Who's this?”

Genevieve raised an eyebrow at being called “this.” Mr. Wilde answered without hesitation.

“The beautiful and clever Miss Olivia Snow, with her young protégée, Miss Lily Rambling. May I present to you Mr. Dexter Baxter-Point, who is certainly the slowest-witted man of my acquaintance.”

Mr. Baxter-Point smiled and tipped his hat at the introduction, ignoring or unaware of the insult.

“How do you do?” Genevieve said.

“Oh, look, there's Dominic,” said Mr. Wilde, leaping the rail and disappearing in the crowd on the floor.

“Miss Snow? You that actress lady everyone talks crazy of?” asked Mr. Baxter-Point.

Before Genevieve could answer, Lily said, “She's an actress, but she ain't crazy.”

“Yes, yes. Do you mind?” he said, pulling himself up by the rail and clumsily rolling into the box. He landed in a heap on the floor, then stood and brushed himself off as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

“Great pleasure! Meaning to meet you. Here you are. Do you mind?” he asked, pulling a chair and sitting so close that he and Genevieve were practically touching. She tried to move her chair, but he grabbed her hand and kissed the buttons on her glove.

Genevieve gaped. Lily covered her laughter by coughing, then said, “Champagne would be lovely, don't you think, Olivia?”

“Champagne? Oh, yes! Or ratafia. I'd prefer ratafia,” Genevieve said, pulling her hand away and placing it on her lap.

Mr. Baxter-Point grinned stupidly and stood. “Ratafia? Don't know. Try. Do you mind?” he said, disappearing out the back of the box.

When the door shut, Lily erupted into giggles.

“What an odd man,” Genevieve said, examining her pearl buttons for saliva.

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