“I don’t think ruining the de Chagny family name will do well for Blanche’s ambitions to be the next Comtesse,” Rochelle said with an air of world-weary annoyance.
“As if anyone will ever compare to the great Christine Daaé,” Jammes said, finally deigning to speak.“I know the Comte well enough to tell you that.He was obsessed with that witch like everyone else.”
“Speaking of old stories,” Rochelle said, rolling her eyes.“Next will you tell us how it was you who alerted Raoul about Buquet?”
Jammes gave Rochelle a glare then turned it on Meg, eyes narrowing.“I do know him better than most of you and Blanche.Why didn’t you ask me to go with you, Meg?”Jammes demanded.
“Probably because you’re a miserable shrew and she’s terrified of you,” Marie said without any hesitation, nor did she seem bothered when Jammes gave her a horrified look.
“I was going to say we aren’t very close,” Meg stammered.To her shock, Jammes looked more hurt than angry.“I apologize.”
Jammes’s face hardened again.“I don’t care,” she said, her gaze shifting to the milling crowd.“There are better ways to gain a patron.”
“I was hoping to see Monsieur d’Amboise,” Meg said unsteadily, avoiding a look from Rochelle in favor of looking penitently at Jammes.The grin she gave Meg was as troubling as one of her glares.
“Oh, I know where he is,” Jammes said and took Meg by the hand.Meg found herself led through the crowd to a corner of the salon.Lo and behold, d’Amboise was there with his friend Clermont.
“Ah, Mademoiselle Giry!”d’Amboise exclaimed.He looked particularly oily today, as if he’d added a fresh coat of lacquer to attend the Opéra.Clermont beside him was much more handsome, if only by comparison.
“You know our dear, young Meg?”Jammes said with a saccharine smile.“You’re so lucky to catch her tonight without her mother in tow; she’s usually chaperoned.”
“I told her I was going to supper with Blanche,” Meg said and the men’s faces lit up.It was fine.This was part of the plan.
“We are fortunate indeed to have such lovely company,” Clermont said.He gave Jammes a look from toe to nose, his eyes pausing at her chest so that he didn’t see the disgust on her face.Meg could feel d’Amboise looking at her the same way.
“Does that mean you’re free for supper?”d’Amboise asked, touching Meg’s elbow.Warnings old and recent about the patrons rang in her head and her skin crawled at the touch.She wasn’t like Rochelle or Jammes or the other dancers; she wouldn't give up her virtue for a few francs and a chance of elevation.She would get what she wanted instead.
“Can we not converse as friends first?Or walk the Opéra?I’m sure the Grand Foyer is lovely this time of night, now that the crowds have gone,” Meg said as coyly as she could manage.
“Of course,” d’Amboise said with a grin.“It would be my pleasure.”
“Cécile can entertain your friend,” Meg added with a smile and took d’Amboise’s offered arm.He smelled of cologne over sweat, Meg noted as they made their way out of theSalon du Danse.She caught sight of Rochelle, looking furious, and turned her attention back to d’Amboise.“Tell me, Monsieur—”
“You must call me Étienne,” the patron interrupted.“And I will call you Meg and we will be the best of friends.”
Meg swallowed and forced a new smile.“Étienne, of course.I must confess my ignorance.How long have you been a patron of our great National Academy of Music?”
“And dance,” d’Amboise added.“I believe it is dance that makes the Paris Opéra great.You and your sisters are the heart of all beauty and art in this city, the perfect flowers in our garden.”
“You flatter me, Étienne,” Meg said, though she felt more queasy than flattered.“But you—”
“My patronage!Yes!”he crowed as they made their way through the stage door and into the lobby proper.It was uncrowded now that the performance was over, though not empty.The mosaic floor was cold through Meg’s slippers, and she suddenly felt extremely exposed walking about in the public spaces in her tutu, though she had just danced for two thousand people in the same outfit.
“I have had the privilege of supporting the Opéra for over two years now,” d’Amboise said proudly.“I have seen many great talents rise and fall.I have an eye for potential.”
“Oh, really?”Meg asked, trying to bat her eyes the way someone like Blanche would and not look like she was going blind.“So you must have known all the managers?”
“Well, there have only been the four,” d’Amboise corrected her.Meg got the impression he liked doing so.
“Did they listen to your ideas as a patron?”Meg asked.“I heard Monsieur Richard especially was very close with the patrons.”
D’Amboise frowned at that and Meg worried she had said something wrong.“Richard showed a definite preference for certain opinions.Men who made themselves hard to ignore and were great beasts about it.”
So he was jealous of more important men like Antoine and Raoul.“Were you a supporter of Carlotta or Daaé?”Meg asked, turning to the main controversy of Richard’s tenure.“Such nasty business that was.”
“Oh, I was for Carlotta at first, but only as a favor to more invested friends,” d’Amboise laughed, guiding Meg into the jewel box of a lobby and down thegrand escalier.“But as I said, I favor dance, and I wasn’t in Richard’s preferred circle.”
“Did anyone speak up when he was ousted?”Meg asked, hoping to sound innocent.“You haven’t even said who this circle was.”