Late the following day, Rose left New York with the rest of the Shakespeare troupe. She had helped load the props and equipment onto the train, always fearful, always watching her back, wondering if Cal was following her. She had almost led herself to believe that he had forgotten about her, but the previous night had taught her that nothing could be further from the truth. She wondered where Alice was, and hoped that Cal had not harmed her.
The cast and crew of the acting troupe boarded the train around six o’clock that night. It was the first New Year’s Eve that Rose could remember that she had not attended some sort of a celebration, but she preferred to be on the train, leaving New York behind, than going to a party. She was too nervous, too frightened to celebrate anyway.
Rose had walked the length and breadth of the train when she had first boarded, fearing that Cal somehow knew where she was and was following her. There was no sign of him, but Rose didn’t begin to relax until the train pulled away from the station and headed out of New York, headed north toward Boston. She sat at the window, watching anxiously, until New York had disappeared from view.
Rose spent the evening getting to know her new fellow actors, feeling a pang of regret as she realized that she had not taken the time to say good-bye to any of her friends in New York. Robert was undoubtedly wondering what had happened to her, as were Alice, Frances, and Norman. She hadn’t even taken the time to leave a note, fearing that Cal would find it and come after her. She had once again severed her ties as effectively as if she had died. It was doubtful that she would see any of them again, although she might send a letter once she felt certain that Cal had no idea where she was, and was no longer a threat.
Most of the people she would be working with were friendly, especially the men, who were intrigued by the beautiful new leading lady. Many of the women were more reserved, especially those who would have liked her position in the troupe, but one older woman quickly took Rose under her wing, promising to show her the ropes, and the others were more friendly after that. Apparently the woman who had taken up Rose’s cause, Ellen Rosenfeld, was something of the social arbitrator for the troupe, and her opinion had the force of law. She was one of the original founders of the company, and had been the leading lady for a good twenty years before she had decided that it was time to let someone else have a chance. Now in her late fifties, she still acted with the troupe, and was an acting coach for all of the newcomers, and sometimes the more experienced actors also sought her advice.
There were only two holdouts. One of the women whose hopes of becoming leading lady had been dashed by Rose looked at her with resentment, avoiding her and making thinly veiled insults when they were introduced. The others looked at her askance, but Marietta Scott had never been one to care what others thought, and she was more than a little resentful of Rose’s position.
The other holdout was the lead actor, Richard McWilliams. He had been with the troupe for fifteen years, since the age of eighteen, and considered himself the main draw. He looked at Rose with contempt, disdaining her because of her lack of experience and her youth. When introduced to her, he had looked her over slowly, insultingly, and then with a contemptuous snort had walked away, leaving Rose feeling like dirt under his heel.
The others had rolled their eyes at the behavior of Marietta and Richard, explaining to Rose that they often acted this way, with any of them, and that Marietta was just jealous because she had a serious interest in Richard and was disappointed that she wouldn’t be leading across from him. Many also expressed contempt at Richard’s actions toward Rose, and one teenage girl told Rose to use one of the Shakespearean insults the next time Richard looked her over. She had demonstrated, showing Rose how to bite her thumb at him, an insult gleaned from Shakespeare’s most famous play, Romeo and Juliet. Rose was familiar with the play, but had never thought to borrow an insult from it.
A few of the younger women looked hopeful when Richard expressed such contempt for Rose, hoping that this would give them a better chance with him. Many of them were sweet on him; at least the youngest ones were. Most of the adult women had learned that there were more important things than an attractive face, and made no move to try to attract the leading man’s attention. His contempt for everyone but himself was legendary, and Rose thought he was one of the most arrogant, egotistical people she had ever met, excluding perhaps Cal. But Cal was also vicious, unprincipled, and unbalanced, making Richard look comparatively good.
The troupe reached Boston late that night, and Rose, under Ellen’s expert tutelage, began rehearsing for her roles, praying that she would be ready when the plays opened on January twenty-first.