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our lady of the underground
act i , fruit of the vine
chapter two , the gospel truth

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"A BRIDGERTON? You're pulling my leg."

    Persephone couldn't help but grin at the scoff Meg had let out. The pair were situated within the lead actress' dressing room, the wardrobe mistress sat before the dressing table, her legs crossed as she expertly repaired a tear in the sleeve of the blonde's costume, while Persephone — awaiting for her costume to be fixed — lounged across the chaise longue in the corner in her underdress, fiddling with her souvenir from the tale she was imparting upon her friend.

    "See for yourself?" The blonde raised the ring in the air, as she rose from her relaxed position, holding it out for Meg to see.

    The red-head lifted her gaze from her craft, the mild expression on her lips slowly transforming into light shock as Persephone crossed the room and placed the ring in her hand.

    "Oh, Persephone, you didn't."

    "What?" The blonde shrugged, a smirk curving her lips. "How else was I to convince anyone of my late night exploits?"

    Meg gave a dainty chuckle and shook her head, before placing the ring back in the actress' grasp and casting her gaze back down at the costume resting upon her lap.

    "I'll excuse it as a drunken error."

    "Drunken error?" Persephone scoffed, holding the ring up to the light. "I was perfectly sensible, thank you."

    "You and Alex had the best part of three bottles of wine between you." Meg fixed the girl with a pointed look. "I was amazed you were able to walk."

    The actress' lips curved into a wide grin at the memories of the night prior

    "You've seen me far worse."

    Meg let out a knowing chuckle.

    "That I have."

    Persephone ran her thumb across the embossing on the face of the ring, before crossing back over to Meg and kneeling beside her, holding out the ring once more.

    "See B for Bridgerton?"

    "Mhmm."

    "You don't believe me?"

    "Of course I do." Meg didn't once lift her gaze from her needle. "It's perfectly plausible that you found a Bridgerton half conscious in a street gutter."

    "Well, I did." Persephone's smirk never wavered — she knew it sounded ludicrous, if she were to hear it from another lips, she reckoned that she also would share the same disbelief as her confidante. "His horse and carriage came to collect him as well."

    "I bet they did!"

    "What cause have I to lie?" Persephone chuckled to herself as she returned to the chaise longue, throwing herself unceremoniously upon its plush cushions.

    "Persephone, you are a storyteller by craft, I've learnt to not take your word at face value."

    The actress grinned. It wasn't uncommon for her to make up the occasional tale for the amusement of herself or her company — she knew Meg's reasonings were not unfounded.

    "I am deeply offended." The blonde retorted, narrowing eyes in good humour while the seamstress merely rolled hers.

    Before her honesty could be disputed any further, a hesitant knock sounded at the door of the dressing room.

    Persephone pursed her lips, as her gaze met Meg's and neither of them made a sound. The blonde pondered for a moment as to who could be behind the solid oak door — it certainly wasn't Dudley, his knock was much more firm, it couldn't be Alex for he never bothered to knock at all, nor Amelia who would always opt for a melodic call of hello! instead of raising her fist to the door.

    The hesitant knock sounded again, causing Meg to spare the blond a huff at her teasing nature. Persephone merely spared her another smirk, before choosing to satisfy her curiosity as well as put the poor visitor out of their misery.

    "Come in!"

    The door handle turned slightly before slowly swinging open, the knocker's hesitancy still lingering despite being granted permission to enter. A small smirk made its way onto the lips of the actress, who straightened up in her seat a little at the sight of ruggedly handsome and bashful man stepping into the room.

    "Mr Jarvis!" She smiled, any hint of suggestion leaving her tone upon casting a glance at her red-headed companion whose gaze had immediately risen from her stitching and fixated upon the man, the faintest of blushes dusting her cheeks.

    "Miss Drake. Miss St. Clair." Oliver Jarvis stepped through the threshold with a polite smile, removing his cap from his head as he bowed before the two women. "I beg your pardon, ladies. It's just Mr Mayhew wasn't in his office—"

    "You were right to come to me, Mr Jarvis." Persephone spared him a small smile as she sat on straight, slowly pulling on a dressing robe and tying the band around her waist, before rising to her feet. "How may we be of assistance?"

    "There's a replacement box of programmes at stage door to amend for the misprint earlier in the week." The printer's apprentice explained, trying his best to maintain his professionalism but not quite achieving to disguise an amused smile. "Apologies, once more."

    Persephone let out a snort of laughter as she reminded of the fit that Alex had thrown earlier that week upon spotting the misprint in question.

    "Persephone Drake and Alexandra Darcy." The blonde mused, casting an amused look towards Meg who was also wearing an amused expression — she dismissed his apologies. "Your apologies are unnecessary, sir, I rather enjoyed it."

    "Still." Mr Jarvis persisted, although his reserve had now completely crumbled, as he mirrored the amusement of the two women. "Our apologies extend to Mr Darcy."

    "Please. His ego was due a knock, you did us all a favour." Persephone scoffed.

    "You're incredibly gracious, Miss." The apprentice bowed his head once more, before a slight flash of panic crossed his face and cast his gaze to the red-headed sat at the dressing table. "Not to say that you too aren't incredibly gracious, Miss St. Clair, I think you the height of grace. Both of you, that is—"

    "Of course." Meg exclaimed bashfully, her eyes bright as relief swept over the man in the doorway.

    Persephone pressed her lips together in faint smirk, as she spectacled the pair for the seconds within which they held each other's fond gaze.

    "I should take my leave." Oliver said, suddenly seeming to remember that the lead actress was also in the room. He raised his cap and placed it back on his head.

    "Yes, of course." Meg replied, in a small voice, as her eyes fell back on the sewing in her lap.

    "Good day."

    Oliver Jarvis bowed his head once more at the smirking Persephone Drake, before ducking out of the doorway and clicking it shut behind him.

    "Good day, Mr Jarvis." Persephone replied, her smirk never wavering as she cast an expectant look upon her seamstress friend, who refused to meet her gaze — the blonde let out an exasperated sigh. "Oh, that boy is too smitten with you!"

    A fond chuckle left the blonde's lips as she surveyed the red-head who tried her best to hide her sad smile.

    "Don't be silly."

    "The height of grace—!"

    "Hush!" Meg lifted her head, permitting her friend a soft laugh.

    "Oh, Meg, he adores you!" Persephone crouched by the chair once more, her hands grasping those of her friends. "Have you ever seen a man so dumbstruck in love?"

    Meg cocked her head to the side, letting out a light scoff.

    "Have you?"

    Persephone spared her a devilish grin.

    "Many a time."

Meg narrowed her eyes playfully at the blonde girl crouched at her side, who beamed in response, readying her next teasing remark only to be interrupted by another knock at the door.

A sharp and succinct three knocks sounded out, allowing for the actress to infer that it was no doubt one of the theatre staff.

"Come in!" She rose from her crouched position, adjusting the belt of her robe as she did.

The door didn't open fully, standing ajar just wide enough for someone to poke their head through, which is exactly what the theatre's stage keeper, Thomas, had done. He peered across his half moon spectacles, his slightly greying hair catching the light as he spared the lead actress a polite smile.

"Company notices on stage, Miss Drake." He informed her at which she gave an acknowledging nod.

"Thank you, Thomas." She replied, at which he quickly disappeared down the corridor.

Persephone stalked over to the door which he had left open, turning on her heel before she passed through the threshold — she fixed Meg with a knowing look.

"This discussion is not over." The blonde called, a teasing, melodic tune ringing through her voice. "You do not escape that easily!"

"Be gone!" Meg shooed her, causing the actress to let out a chuckle as she stepped out of the room.

"I'm gone!"

Shutting the door with a soft click behind her, Persephone made her way through the narrow, winding corridors of backstage.

     Polite smiles and pleasant greetings left her lips as she passed by her fellow theatre-makers; dressers carrying baskets of laundry and going about their pre-sets, the stage keepers running about with crates full of props, musicians hurrying along with their pages upon pages of sheet music.

     The blonde stuck tight to the wall, as she passed through the doorway into the stage left wing, where the hubbub of backstage died ever so slightly. Her fingers lightly caressed the red house tabs as she passed, waving a quick hello at the flymen who were carrying their stage weights past her and up to the fly floor.

     She could hear the low murmur of voices as she stepped out of the wing onto the stage, hastening ever so slightly as she spotted the rest of her company, situated on the floor down stage, looking upon Dudley expectantly who was addressing them from the stalls, where he had taken up seat, his eyes scanning a small note pad before they finally looked up and spotted the leading lady.

    "At last, she graces us with her presence!" He clasped his hands together, gesturing towards the leading lady at which the rest of the company all turned their heads.

     Persephone merely smirked as she took her final few steps before sinking to the floor in an empty space beside Alex, allowing her feet to dangle off the front of the stage as she fixed Dudley with a hard stare, leaning back on her hands slightly.

     "Pardon me but company notices, after such a raucous evening, seem largely out of order."

A swell of agreement rippled through the group of actors pooled at the front of the stage.

     "Hear, hear!"

"Yes, thank you for that assessment, Persephone." Dudley narrowed his eyes, lifting a hand to silence the group.

"Pleasure." She mirrored his expression.

He was the first to break their challenging gaze — he always was.

"Now, company notices!" The theatre owner announced. "Dressers have asked if we could please refrain from keeping open liquor bottles in the wings should people wish to not have damp costumes."

    "Thanks again, Alex!"

    Persephone let out a bark of laughter at the scoff that left Alex's lips as he turned to address the voice of his accuser.

    "You have no proof it was me!"

    "In addition!" Dudley quickly silenced their ruckus once more. "The company have been invited to perform and dine at White's tomorrow evening after the show by the Lord Livingston — he saw the show on Tuesday and has paid handsomely for your talents and your company."

     A swell of intrigue washed over the company, excited murmurs and hushed whispers of delight erupted as Dudley allowed his gaze to drop back to his notebook.

    A dry chuckle sounded Persephone amidst the cacophony — the company had quite the right to be animated, an invitation to White's quite the luxury, although she had been a few times before and found that, for a woman in her position, such an environment only made the men that more inclined to take liberties with the women they had oh so rightly paid for an evening with and sought to flaunt to their wealthy companions.

   "Is one of yours? Lord Livingston?" Alex arched a brow at his leading actress, who gave a light tsk before shaking her head.

   "No, Sienna's." She informed her friend before pursing her lips, as the name of her fellow boarder and dear friend left her lips. "But I suspect he shall have his friends."

   Alex gave a hoarse chuckle, his voice slightly heavy from the prior evening's excursion — Persephone was surprised not to have seen Dudley chastise him yet.

   "Busy night for you." The male lead mused.

    The blonde merely shot him a wink.

    "No rest for the wicked."

    "The company of the Royal Opera House shall also be in attendance." Dudley seized the attention of his company back from their idle chattering. "Persephone? A duet at some point in the evening between yourself and Sienna would be most apt."

    "Will Così fan tutte be to your liking, Dudley?" The blonde quickly retorted, hoping to catch the older man off guard with her cultured reply — he did not falter.

    "Rather." He replied.

    Narrowing her gaze once more, Persephone watched as the man flipped shut his notebook and clasped his hands upon his front, scanning the crowd, preparing to dismiss them—

    "Oh, how exciting!" A excited voice gushed, not too far from where Persephone was sat. "I've never been to gentleman's club!"

    The blonde craned her neck, her cool eyes landing on the rosy cheeks and bright eyes of Amelia, who was scanning her fellow cast mates with an excited grin.

     Turning her head slowly, Persephone's gaze met Dudley's in a look of harsh understanding — the latter cleared his throat, silencing her enthusiasm.

    "And for the meantime, sweet Amelia, I am afraid that shall remain the case, this invitation does not extend to those under one and twenty."

    A collective groan of sympathy extended from the rest of the cast and the young girl's shoulder sunk, her face contorting into a frown as she let out a brief cry of objection.

    "That is all!" Dudley raised his voice above those of the company, flourishing his notebook in the air, signifying the end of the notes. "Thank you, have a great show!"

    The shuffling of bodies arising, and the sound of boots hitting the hard floor quickly followed as company members rose either departing back to their dressing rooms or spreading out upon the stage to begin their personal warm ups.

    Just as she was pulled to her feet by Alex, Persephone felt a gentle tug on the hem of her dressing gown. Her gaze cast down to meet Dudley, who had arisen from his seat, although still stood below her in the stalls.

    "A word in the office when you have a moment." He said, once having captured her attention.

    She replied with a simple nod, gesturing for him to lead the way as she reclaimed her skirts and watched as he ascended from the stalls up to the stage, before following back into the stage left wing and out into backstage when the company office was situated.

"White's?" Persephone chuckled, a slight smirk on her lips as she passed through the doorway into the office. "Are we moving up in the world, Dudley?"

"One might think." The theatre owner replied with a weak chuckle as he shut the door behind her and slowly made his way to a chair behind the large writing desk — Persephone remained stood. "And it's rather gracious timing if I say so myself ... which brings me to why I summoned you."

Dudley regarded her with a weak smile that had very little success in masking the dying sparkle in his dark eyes. Persephone regarded him carefully, her gaze hardened as she detected the slight furrow of his brow and tension in his gaze.

"What have you done?" Her nostrils flared as the tell tales signs of his wrong doing glistened in front of her.

"I haven't done anything per se."

"Dudley."

His weak smile faded, and he cleared his throat, not bringing himself to meet her harsh gaze.

"At present, the company finds itself in a slight deficit — shall we say — in terms of funding." The man steadily explained, his dark eyes flickering between his lead actress and the accounts paperwork which lay open upon the desk before him. "Which has meant my attention, as of present, has been committed to finding ways within which we can replenish said funds."

"Replenish?" Persephone scoffed, throwing herself upon the armchair that stood before the desk — she narrowed her eyes once more at the man. "You found your way back into your old habits then, I see? What was your particular vice ice this time, I wonder? Horses? Backgammon? Boxing?"

"It is not something I'm proud of." His gaze remained down.

"No, it certainly shouldn't be." The blonde reprimanded, with eyes of steel. "Especially when it impacts the livelihoods of your labourers."

Dudley wiped his brow, and cleared his throat once more, finally bringing himself to meet her gaze with a slight hint of resolve about his manner.

"Well, circumstances are as circumstances are, whether they best please you or not."

"They most certainly do not." Persephone bit back, her head shaking in disbelief as she pulled his gaze from him.

She knew why he was bestowing this upon her and not the full company. It would said them all into panic, whereas she was — despite her evident fury —more pragmatic and calculated; she would provide a solution. She would have to, for she was bound to him; his livelihood, and that of the theatre's, was hers. Still, his liberties didn't half make her blood boil in her veins.

"How is it that I am always expected to clean up after your mistakes?"

"We have an agreement, Persephone."

A flash of anger coursed through her at just how quickly he had resorted to remind her of her subjugation.

"Oh to hell with that agreement!" She spat, causing the man's nostrils to flare angrily, yet he did not rise from his seat.

"Look, we have to find some way of getting this money or simply I am done for!"

Persephone only continued to shake her head as she spectated how Dudley's own was cradled in his hands, desperately.

"Just what damage have you done?"

Dudley lifted his gaze, still avoiding hers, offering a brief shake of his head in response as he raised a hand to his mouth, his lips thinning in unease.

"That doesn't matter."

"I disagree."

"This doesn't just affect me!" He snapped — she could see his jaw clenching. "It affects all of us. This theatre affects all of your livelihoods."

A wave of panic washed over the blonde. She had seen Dudley nervous before, and it was nothing compared to this — the gravity of the situation began to dawn upon her.

"How much?" She rose from her chair, her voice becoming louder as she smacked a hand upon the tabletop. "Dudley, how much?"

"Five thousand!"

"Five thousand?!"

"Shhh!"

Persephone started back in horror, a hand flying to her mouth, attempting to muffle the choked gasp that sounded from her at the revelation.

"Then, we are done for!" She retorted exasperatedly, her blue eyes wide in panic.

"Lower your voice!"

The blonde reluctantly obeyed, slowly begin to pace before the desk.

Five thousand. Persephone could barely even fathom such an amount — she would certainly never so much money in her lifetime. She didn't even know the theatre had that much in its accounts — and what hope could she possibly be in remedying such a loss?

"And what can I do?" She countered Dudley once more, fixing him with a bold stare. "You honestly expect me to go out there and entice one of my clients to give me five thousands pounds?"

"Of course not." Dudley shook his head, pinching between his eyebrows — attempting to release the headache she had no doubt caused him.

"Then what exactly is your proposal?"

Dudley looked up at last, finally meeting her gaze with a defeated expression.

"Persephone, you are an actress." He stated, "I am simply asking you to play a part. Select yourself a gentleman and charm him!"

The blonde scoffed at his short-sightedness, resuming her pacing as the theatre owner slowly rose from his seat, attempting to maintain her attention and further pitch his flawed plan.

"Perhaps select some new? Unsuspecting?" He offered. "Give him that extra bit of attention; convince him of your affections."

Persephone ceased her pacing — it was not impossible. But it wasn't easy by any means. She hesitated, letting out a long sigh, her voice low as she spoke.

    "Five thousand is not exactly pin money, Dudley."

    "You'd be surprised what a man is willing to pay for love." Dudley's reply sounded somewhat sincere.

     A faintest ghost of a humoured smile crossed the blonde's lips, as she let out another scoff.

    "Yes, and I suppose White's is simply crawling with romantics!"

    "I am not telling you to choose the first baron that crosses your path." Dudley moved around the desk, folding his arms across his chest as he regarded the girl, leaning back on the edge of the desk. "I am aware that this sort of thing shall take time ..."

     The nervous clearing of his throat caused Persephone to quirk an eyebrow as she brought herself back to face him.

    A realisation quickly dawned on her as she regarded him, a silent gasp left her mouth which feel agape. A derisive chuckle shaking through her chest as she buried her face in her hands, as if morphed into a groan.

    "You didn't even have five thousand to gamble with in the first place, did you?" She all but whispered.

   His silence was all the answer she needed. She herself had very little acquaintance with the type of dirty business that Dudley now found himself in, but she was familiar of their conduct. They'd given him a window in which to repay his debts and if he didn't ...

    "How much time exactly do I have to enact this fraudulent scheme of yours?" She folded her arms, jaw squaring. 

    "Six months."

    She took in a sharp breath, fury threatening to take her over once more.

    "And then what?" She raised her eyebrows, nostrils flaring. "They seize the theatre? You desert the country? What becomes of us?!"

    "This is why I have entrusted your assistance!" Dudley countered. "So long as we get this money, I can keep protecting you — all of you!"

    A frustrated cry tore from the blonde's throat.

    "You're the one who put us in danger in the first place!"

   A deafening silence fell over the pair of them. Persephone could only shake her head as she regarded the man before her, who should have been wracked with guilt and yet still found the gall to look her in the eye.

  "You're a foolish, foolish man." She spat.

   "Look your efforts shall not be the only ones." Dudley sought to ease her temper. "I intend to increase ticket prices, ask the others girls to raise their own, I'm looking into decreasing our coal intake and outsourcing to a different printer's, a cheaper one—"

    "No, you can't do that."

    Persephone surprised herself at her sudden objection — she'd thought only of Meg and Oliver, should they stop outsourcing his business, the bashful apprentice would have little reason to call upon her friend.

    Dudley raised an eyebrow, she collected herself.

   "Chancery Lane have been our providers for years." The blonde countered, masking her true motivations.

    "There's talk of them increasing their prices per page." Dudley argued, Persephone shook her head.

    "Reason with them." She dismissed his concern. "They'd be awfully sorry to lose our business."

    Dudley let out a dry chuckle.

   "Perhaps I should put you in charge of the books." He mused, reaching for his cigarette case.

    Persephone's gaze hardened, her jaw clenching.

   "Yes, perhaps you should."

    He met her gaze and let out a long sigh, before straightening up and walking back around to the other side of the desk, where he sat, striking a match and lighting his cigarette, waving a hand in her direction.

    "That'll be all." He dismissed her, taking a puff of his cigarette, averting his gaze back to the accounts before him.

   With an objectionable huff, Persephone turned on her heel and made for the door.

    "Don't let me down."

    The command stopped her in her tracks. A humourless chuckle left her lips, she kept her gaze firmly on the door in front of her.

    "When have I ever before?"

    Dudley chuckled as the door closed behind his lead actress — now, that was certainly the gospel truth.

𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖆 𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖆𝖐𝖘!
whoof this has been in the
works for a good while!

a moment for the gorgeous
cover made by the most
wonderful chloe !!