Rose adapted well to the life of a traveling actress. Her high levels of intelligence and creativity, never fully appreciated before, even by herself, came into play as she worked to learn the art that the other members of the troupe had spent years studying.
Rose soon learned that she had a talent for memorization, and quickly came to know the lines for the two plays. Her natural skill as an actress, perfected over the years even without formal training, helped greatly. Ellen encouraged Rose to learn and study her craft, assisting her in the interpretation of her characters. Rose was grateful for Ellen’s tutelage, and gave her the respect afforded a truly good teacher.
Rose got along well with most members of the company, although Marietta persisted in making snide remarks, sorely trying Rose’s temper on occasion. Richard didn’t help matters. His continuing contempt for her sometimes translated itself into their stage performances, with Richard making subtle attempts to discredit Rose and make her look foolish.
His attempts weren’t quite so subtle as he thought, and after one reviewer commented on Rose’s expansion of Shakespeare’s dialogue to include some phrases that had a distinctly twentieth century sound to them, both the director and Ellen decided that it was time to put a stop to things.
One afternoon in mid-February, they called both Richard and Rose into the green room. The other actors were not yet present, and Rose wondered, worriedly, what was going on.
The director, Harry Parsons, spoke first.
"This company has a strong reputation for excellence. Both of you are excellent actors, but your onstage competition has got to stop." He looked at Richard. "Especially yours. You’re an experienced actor, with fifteen years of experience with this company, so there’s no reason for you to act so threatened by Miss Dawson. She isn’t stealing your thunder, but your constant attempts to make her look bad are making this company a laughing stock. This has got to stop, now, or we may well be looking for another leading man. Christopher Bloomfield, who you also regard with contempt, might just fit the position."
Richard was furious. "She’s the one who’s making a laughingstock of the company. You poxed son of a bitch doesn’t sound Shakespearean."
Ellen looked at him very calmly. "Miss Dawson has far less experience than you do, in any sort of acting, but especially in Shakespeare. While I do recommend that she study Shakespeare more, both his plays and his sonnets, to get a feel for them, she is doing the best she can. She is one of the most dedicated leading ladies we’ve had in quite some time, and audiences love the combination of you two, odd expressions not withstanding. You two need to get along and try to work out your differences. We will not put up with this. And you, Mr. McWilliams, seem to be at the root of the problem. You should know better than to deliberately try to ruin the performance of a fellow performer."
Rose had sat uncomfortably through all of this. She admitted that Richard had often tried to undermine her performance, but she had usually been able to continue with her performance without a hitch. She did have to acknowledge, though, that the poxed son of a bitch comment had sounded pretty stupid. Still, she didn’t want anyone getting fired on her account.
"Mrs. Rosenfeld," she spoke to Ellen, more formally than she would have under ordinary circumstances. "I’m trying to do my best here, and learn everything. I think that I’ve actually improved faster because of him."
"Faster or not, this competition can’t continue. Either you work out your differences, or one of you has to go. I may be able to arrange a smaller role for one of you if I feel that someone else needs to take your place, but I’d just as soon keep both of you where you are," Mr. Parsons told them. "There’s a great deal of chemistry between you, and the audience notices."
Rose’s expression showed exactly what she thought of the idea of there being chemistry between herself and the boorish leading man. Ellen laughed.
"This doesn’t mean you have to like each other, or get along well offstage. You can avoid each other for all we care. But you need to get along onstage, and I know that Richard is the main culprit here. There had better not be any more incidents."
Richard still looked irritated, but he only nodded. Rose agreed, adding that she would study Shakespeare’s work to make her performance better. Ellen readily agreed, and even lent Rose several books containing sonnets, as well as a volume of plays.
Rose studied hard, learning many more roles than she was ever likely to hold, and gained an understanding of the Bard’s work. Even Richard grudgingly admitted that Rose knew what she was doing, a comment that strangely pleased her. She didn’t understand why his opinion mattered, but somehow it did. Maybe, she thought, it was that chemistry the director had mentioned.
Rose didn’t particularly like Richard, but she found him oddly stimulating. She often responded to his thinly veiled insults with wisecracks of her own, and found that, in a strange way, she actually liked fighting with him. She didn’t understand it at all. Certainly she wasn’t attracted to him. Such a thing was unthinkable. She had had her fill of mean, bad-tempered men with Cal, and she was still mourning Jack.
Nevertheless, Rose began deliberately putting herself into situations where she and Richard would be forced to interact. He also sought her out, though neither one really liked the other. The chemistry that so pleased the audiences made itself known backstage as well, and more than one person watched them with interest, hoping that something would happen to add to the gossip that many members of the company thrived on.