Never Land the First Fish

Chapter Seventeen: Part 1

"In some ways, it's another form of the show business." Vanderbilt had poured them both a whiskey, despite the early hour, and was waving his glass like a conductor's baton as he explained to Gills how to woo the Press to Julia's cause.

"What does the audience want? They want to be entertained, thrilled, enthralled. If I do that, I sell tickets. Doesn't matter whether it's a balloon ascension, a concerto, a talk about astronomy. I just need to find the right audience and promise them what they want."

Gills nodded, wishing the man would get to the point. He wanted practical advice on how to protect Julia, not a dissertation on the philosophy of entertainment. He took a deep breath. Vanderbilt would answer him in his own time, and he owed the man too much to be impatient with him.

Vanderbilt grinned, as if he knew what Gills was thinking. "The same with the papers. D'Alvieri gave them a story from a Gothic horror—a remote cottage, a violent falling-out, the black widow, fleeing the scene of her husband's murder with her illicit lover."

Gills snorted, and Vanderbilt grinned. "Precisely, and all served up with lashings of British titles. We Americans love titles. Low scandal in high places. It sells papers, Gildeforte."

"Yes, I see that, but how do I fight it?"

Vanderbilt took a sip of his whiskey, and smiled. "You give them a better Gothic tale, my dear boy. And I know just the newspaperman to help you do it."

***

"Mausii!" Emily held herself back from screeching with the joy of seeing Kali Rookscombe, her aunt-who-was-her-mother. "You are here! I thought you would never come."

"So you said in your last letter."

Even if Julia hadn't divined through old gossip that Emily's mother had once been The Black Goddess, the most famed Indian dancer and courtesan in London's history, the dancer's grace was yet apparent in the woman before them. Far from being stopped and greying like one expects when the daughter isn't young, her mother was nearly as vibrant as Emily, her face glowing, her hair a heavy mass in a braid over her shoulder.

Julia set aside her needlework and excused herself to arrange for tea. Emily hadn't been in residence long enough to have hired all her servants; only a cook and a temporary maid-of-all-work. Hiring would now fall to Julia, so until then, the tea things were the purview of the companion.

"Yes, tea, please, but you are not welcome to remove yourself. Mausii, this is Lady Julia Marloughe, my companion. Lady Julia, my aunt, Lady Rookscombe." Julia curtseyed and Kali offered up her first name. "I would like you to sit with us and speak to my Mausii; only I wish to speak to her for a few minutes first." Emily winked at Julia and squeezed Kali's wrist.

Once Julia had absented herself, Emily guided her mother to a seat in the newly decorated living room. "Have you seen Mausaa?"

Kali smiled. "He was very pleased to see me."

"He loves you, Mausii, no matter what foolish things he does."

"Is he making a habit of foolish things in New York City, Emily? Is that why you called me here?"

Emily was a poor liar, but in truth, she had no proof he had done anything untoward, only a deep suspicion of Didi VanHeusen. Emily grumbled, "He has bought an enormous house and thinks to make you American aristocrats. He would make you a doyenne."

"That is indeed foolish of him." She smiled indulgently, leading Emily to suspect they had done all the reconciling they needed and she might do well to butt out. "Your father is the lord of the manor at heart; he will ever be Baron Rookscombe, no matter where he goes. I decided to be his baroness decades ago, with all that entails. It is only inconvenient and trying that he wishes to try his hand at a new continent at this late date. One never knows what to expect. We are known in Brazil. Things are easier there."

"It is much like England and Ireland here, in how they treat those of us of darker complexion. The intelligentsia can generally, but not always, be counted upon to act civilized. Mausaa and I entertained quite a scene on the occasion of my first party."

"Yes, he told me. He told me of that woman and her designs upon him."

"He told you?"

"Of course. It is a ridiculous notion, that he might turn to another woman, but it never stops them trying. He has never hidden it from me, because he never wanted me to think he had anything to hide. I assume it is she you alluded to, but didn't name, in your letter?"

Kali Rookscombe saw through everything. And didn't it make Emily feel small that she had assumed Mausaa wouldn't tell his wife as soon as he saw her. Thankfully, Julia chose that moment to return with tea and a maid bearing sandwiches and cakes. The maid bowed herself out and Julia took a seat and poured, while Emily passed out plates and sandwiches.

"Lady Julia, I understand you are my daughter's interesting new companion."

Julia blushed slightly. "I do not know how interesting I can claim to be."

"No? Shall I enumerate the ways? Beginning or ending with a murdered husband in England? Or so I gather from the reporters howling in a mob at your door. Fortunately, they had no idea I was visiting this apartment, or their impertinent questions would have been far more pressing. Were I a British baroness in truth, I would think you quite unsuitable a companion for my daughter."

"As it happens, Mausii is not a British baroness at heart, so she is terribly lax in her requirements for my companions," Emily teased.

"I merely decided, some years ago, that you were old and wise enough to choose your own companions, and it was no longer for me to say with whom you should spend your time. And, Lady Julia, I value interesting people above all others, so I am hopeful you will stay and tell me something of your fascinating circumstance."

The apartment was small enough that they all heard a brisk knocking on the door, and Julia made to get up.

"Let Milly get the door," Emily insisted. "Maussi, my companion will decide whether or not she wishes to share any of her story."

Before Julia could comment, the maid Milly opened the door, and Gills brushed by her without waiting to be announced, eyes only for Julia.

"Julia, Vanderbilt and I have a plan. We're going to give D'Alvieri the poke in the eye he deserves, God rot him." At that moment, he realised he had a wider audience than expected. "Oh. I beg your pardon, ma'am. I did not realise Miss Kilbrierry had a visitor."

"Lord Joseph Gildeforte for Lady Julia," said Milly from the doorway.

Maussi stood, her intent gaze turning to Gills. "Gildeforte? The Marquis of Coventon's son?"

Gills stared at Maussi as if she were a ghost, the blood draining from his face. "His brother. I– I mean, the present marquis is my brother."

Maussi bowed her head. "Ah. I had not heard... I am sorry for your loss, Lord Joseph. He was a great man, and my husband and I are forever in his debt. But you came to speak with Lady Julia. Shall we withdraw to the other side of the room, Emily, so that we may chaperone them while giving them some privacy?"

Emily suppressed a rueful smile. She hoped Maussi did not intend to chaperone her and Maddox in that heavy-handed style. "Perhaps you can tell us all what you have planned, Gills. I am sure Maussi would be pleased to help with any scheme that shifts the reporters off our doorstep."