Cirque by Mary Ellen Dennis

Author:Mary Ellen Dennis
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gale, Cengage Learning
Published: 2018-09-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY:

THE PEAHEN AND THE PEACOCK

* * *

True to her word, Auntie Bernadette kept Angelique a prisoner, although her jail cell was spacious, her fellow inmates one uncle, seven cats, and a bevy of servants.

Somehow, Auntie Bernadette had discovered that Sean was Angelique’s “lover.” Perhaps she had intercepted a letter before Angelique and Sean had begun using Gertie, or Gertie’s lover Henry, as their two couriers, and before they had begun using false names.

Drawing a tiny peahen in a cage, Angelique now signed her letters “Mademoiselle Paonne.” Sean signed his “Monsieur Paon.” Having once tried to earn his living as an artist, his paon, or peacock, was the most beautiful pen-and-ink drawing Angelique had ever seen.

In his letters he tried to keep his pessimism hidden, but she could read between the lines.

Even though Barnum seemed well pleased with Sean’s tireless efforts, Jenny Lind was a conundrum. “Solving the riddle of the Sphinx,” Sean wrote, “would be easier than solving the riddle of the Swedish Nightingale.”

Not knowing that she cringed from attention, Barnum, with Sean’s help, had mounted an inspired campaign. As Jenny’s steamship approached the docking area at the foot of Canal Street, every wharf, window and rooftop along the waterfront crawled with “a sea of humanity.” Unfortunately, once Jenny had descended the gangplank, she was almost trampled. Then, safe inside Barnum’s carriage, over two hundred bouquets were thrust through the windows, drowning everyone with perfume and petals.

“You would not think me a lad if you could smell me,” Sean had written, “and poor Jenny Lind was frightened out of her wits.”

She was now living at Irving House, the most elegant quarters in the city, and Sean hoped she would honor her contract since, apparently, she had gotten “cold feet” halfway through her voyage and begged to be taken home.

But, he wrote, all of this was not Angelique’s concern.

Of course it was her concern. The colder Jenny’s feet got, the longer it would take for Mademoiselle Paonne to escape from her prison and join Monsieur Paon.

Angelique heard the unmistakable footsteps of her aunt. Quickly, she thrust Sean’s latest missive beneath her pillow. He had included the Jenny Lind ode on a separate piece of paper, but she had not read it yet, and she had a sinking feeling she’d have to decipher the poem tonight, by candlelight. Damn and blast!

“I want you to stay by my side,” Auntie Bernadette said without preamble. “You must learn how to manage a household, my dear. Matthew Gray has many servants and will expect you to oversee their various duties.”

“Monsieur Gray has slaves.”

“Slaves are unpaid servants, Angelique, and Mr. Gray expects—”

“An heir. He wants sons, and my hips are too small.”

“Fiddle-faddle. The next time he visits, we shall pad your hips.”

“I suppose that is an honest ploy!”

“Of course it is. Just as your ‘padded belly’ will be an honest ploy.”

“What makes you so certain I am with child?”

“The wages of sin—”

“I have never earned those wages. I lied about my affaire. I cannot offer you proof of my chastity, but this morning my bleeding began.

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