The Ringmaster's Wife by Kristy Cambron

Author:Kristy Cambron
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Thomas Nelson
Published: 2016-05-01T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 17

“May I join you?”

Rosamund recognized the voice immediately.

She turned, jumped, and nearly overturned the crate she’d been seated on in her haste to pop up to a proper standing position.

“Mrs. Ringling . . . I—”

“No, no.” Mable shook her head. “No need to get up. And please, call me Mable.”

Rosamund did as requested, settling back down on the crate with a swoop of sequined ribbons flouncing about her lap. She chewed the edge of her bottom lip as Mable sat before her.

“I’m sure this visit is an unexpected one. In truth, I hadn’t anticipated it myself. But, well, here we are.”

The alcove in which they sat was dim and shielded almost entirely from view.

Rosamund had never been more grateful for the haven of anonymity. Here they could talk. Unnoticed. Watching the circus pass by beyond their hidden corner without anyone else seeing the bareback rider who was poised to receive a reprimand from Mrs. Ringling herself.

“This is all new, you know, this location for Madison Square Garden,” Mable began, quite differently than Rosamund had expected.

She’d expected the conversation to begin with You’re fired.

“Yes.” She paused, uneasy. “I did hear that.”

“The city heads got it in their minds to widen Madison Avenue some time back. My favorite part of the old building was torn down.”

“What was your favorite part?”

“All of it.” Mable laughed. “It was a lovely piece of Venice right here in the city. But time marches. Changes are made. Everything has to be bigger and better . . . Flashier, including the Garden. But this underground area is nice. Much larger than I’d thought.”

The barrage of normal chitchat proved too much, and Rosamund interrupted, squeezing her eyes shut as she blurted out, “I’m so sorry, but I can’t bear it any longer. Are you here to fire me? Please tell me, and I’ll just get my things and go.”

Rosamund cracked open one eye, feeling but an ounce of courage to do so.

Mable appeared taken aback, both by the question and by the honesty of Rosamund’s distress so readily on display. It felt safe then to open both eyes and hope for the best.

“Fire you? I have no call to do anything of the sort,” Mable replied. “No power to do so either. Only don’t tell that to Mr. Ringling. He’d never let me live that notion down.”

Rosamund’s trepidation eased, her shoulders lightening with it.

“No, I’m here for another reason.”

“Did Mr. Keary send you?”

Mable shook her head. “That would not be in keeping with our Mr. Keary’s nature. I expect he’d fall into a very manly swoon if he knew I was here talking to you right now.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I’ve never done this before.”

Rosamund stared. “You’ve never . . . what?”

“Gone backstage to talk to a performer.” Mable confirmed it with a light shake of her head. “Not once. The circus is my husband’s world, and I do not intrude upon that.

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