Page 65 of As Many Souls as Stars
‘You shouldn’t be here.’
‘I don’t see why not.’
‘Why—because—I can’t believe they allowed you inside, wearing that!’
‘They see what I want them to see.’
‘And what is that?’ Esther asked.
‘A gentleman.’
Esther looked at the crowd. There were a few wayward glances, some scandalised mutterings in the wake of the argument with Montagu, but none of the silent horror she would’ve expected in reaction to Miriam’s appearance.
‘I haven’t seen you in days,’ Esther said.
‘Did you miss me?’
She didn’t know how to reply. Lying felt pointless, but honesty felt too much like surrender.
‘Why did you come?’ she asked instead.
‘I thought we ought to dance.’
Esther smiled wryly. ‘Dancing with the devil; how far I have fallen.’
Miriam offered her a hand. ‘No devils here, darling. No loneliness, no fear. Just us.’
A phantom voice rose suddenly in Esther’s mind, as clear as if the words had been spoken beside her—Miriam’s voice, although Miriam’s lips did not move—
A place without loneliness, without fear. Without the weight of your guilt upon your shoulders. I could bring you there.
It did not feel like magic. It felt like a memory.
The shock made Esther pause, trembling, as Miriam waited expectantly for her to take her hand.
‘You promised me, Esther,’ Miriam murmured, low and warning, when she didn’t move. ‘You promised me that you would be mine.’
‘I know,’ Esther replied. ‘I am.’
And she placed her palm in hers.
The first dance was a cotillion, which required a ludicrous amount of spinning. Esther was whirled from partner to partner at great speed, and she could only ever speak with Miriam in breathless snatches before she was pulled away again.
‘You look lovely,’ Miriam said to her, as they linked arms to form a line.
‘I ruined this dress.’
‘I don’t see how.’
‘Blood on snow,’ Esther said. ‘That is what it reminds me of. A winter someplace long ago.’
Miriam paused—only for a moment, but perceptibly enough. Then she said, in what felt like reproach, ‘I want to make this night beautiful, Esther. Something to celebrate.’
‘You want to play with your doll in your dollhouse, you mean. See her dressed up all pretty and make her dance.’
Miriam tipped her head back and laughed. ‘You are not a doll, my love. If you were, I would have grown bored with you much more quickly.’
Esther opened her mouth to reply, but then she was spinning away again, almost tumbling into the arms of an unsuspecting gentleman. She’d never been very good at dancing, and she tripped over the feet of Alexander Montagu, who glared pointedly at her before he turned away. For a moment, Esther was entirely lost in the crowd of dancers; there were too many people present. Their movements sent the candles surrounding them into ecstasy, casting shivering shadows across the wallpaper, billowing and receding. It almost looked like the walls themselves were alight, as if the whole space might catch fire and trap the guests in an inferno. Entranced, Esther paused to watch the flicker of a nearby flame. The wax of the candle was dripping in a heartbeat rhythm onto the table beneath it.
