Chickadee by Alcamia Payne

Author:Alcamia Payne [Payne, Alcamia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Totally Bound Publishing
Published: 2012-06-03T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Four

After Arnaud had left, Chickadee lay in her room with a cool cologne pad over her eyes whilst Maud sat wringing her hands. Arnaud had been so cool ever since his disclosure. He’d still insisted on seeing the room that she considered suitable for the horse. Then, as if nothing had happened, he’d strutted around with his curious measuring instrument, as if he didn’t have a care in the world, and all the while her mind had been in turmoil. She’d have to tell Papa, and the sooner the better. How she wished he’d hurry and get back from Manchester. Papa will be able to prove whether it’s true or not, she agonised, although surely Papa must have known before? Oh, how could things turn out so badly? Mama would turn in her grave if she knew.

When she heard her father come in, Chickadee crept downstairs. She’d powdered her tear-stained face but her eyes were still red.

“So, that ragamuffin’s been and gone, has he?” It was clear that Victor wasn’t happy about the impending arrival of the mechanical horse and it was taking much good behaviour on Chickadee’s part to improve his bad mood in the meantime.

“Papa, Arnaud, I mean Monsieur Petit, isn’t a ragamuffin.” Chickadee took her father’s arm and steered him into his study. “And, Papa, you must admit he has been amenable, although I realise I was a bit naughty and unladylike to push my advantage like that. You are proud of me, aren’t you, Papa? Don’t you think I take after you and I’m a superb negotiator? One day I think I’ll set myself up in industry.”

“That could possibly be true, my dear, and I’m full of admiration for you, but hopefully when you’re married you’ll mitigate your outlandish behaviour. Thank God for mild-mannered Henry Peverel. Tell me this. Who would a female industrialist, locked up in her dusty mansion full of gadgets, have to warm her bed at night? No man favours a woman who delves too deeply into this and that and has a mind full of curious ideas. My only concern is you’d end up an old maid, or married to a glorified clock maker.”

“Papa, Arnaud is far from a glorified clock maker. One of these days he’ll be a famous man and he’ll invent something everyone wants to buy and then…” Chickadee leant further forward and pinched her father’s nose playfully. “Then, you would have been proud if your daughter had married the inventor Arnaud Petit. Oh, Papa, I jest, but just think of it. You’d be able to show off to all your friends and, besides, didn’t they used to say darling Mama was fiercely opinionated and unmarriageable and you fell in love and loved her dearly, didn’t you? Now, how did they describe Mama? Ah, I remember. They used to say she was so eccentric when she walked around in men’s trousers and took such an interest in the running of the estate and this and that strain of potato, and you used to be so proud of the way she debated at the dinner table.

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