Francesca clenched her hands into fists. Oh, to hit her. Just once. But oh-so-hard. How utterly satisfying it would be. No. Anything she openly did to the woman would only harm Mr. Fairgate in the long run, by word reaching his uncle.
That did not include, however, neglecting to point out something possibly disgusting that might just happen to be in the direct path of the woman’s boots. Francesca’s lips twitched. “Yes, I’m sure you’re right.”
“This amuses you?”
“Oh, of course not.” Biting her lip, she tried to control herself, but her nostrils flared. She could not hold in a laugh much longer. She needed to change the subject. And to be rid of the horrible creature perched next to her on the bench.
In her atrocious hat.
Oh no. That’s done it! Coughing to camouflage a sputtered laugh, Francesca covered her mouth.
Miss Cartwright raised both perfectly identical eyebrows. Scooting away as far as she could toward the other end of the bench, she opened her reticule, yanked out her handkerchief, and held it over her nose and mouth. As if Francesca carried the plague.
Now openly laughing, Francesca waved a hand in front of her own face. “I’m not contagious, I assure you. Probably just some insect flew up my nose.” She snorted.
Lowering the handkerchief, Miss Cartwright’s face simultaneously showed distaste as well as disgust. Lips peeled back in a grimace. Nostrils flared. “That is all good and well, I suppose. But I did not come here today for a pleasant visit.”
Pleasant? Her?
More laughter threatened to bubble up Francesca’s throat. No. Must not laugh.
Must. Not. Laugh. “Oh? Why are you here today?”
“It seems we have something in common, you and I.”
“We do?”
“Why, yes. Mr. Fairgate.”
“We are both acquainted with him. Yes, that’s true.”
“Oh, no, my dear. It’s more than that. Much more.”
“Do tell?”
“You see, we both want him.”
Already shaking her head, Francesca’s eyes bulged. “No. No, of course not.”
“Oh, yes. While you would never admit it out loud, timid little mouse that you are, it’s perfectly obvious that you find him… attractive. Do you not?”
“Well, I—”
“Come now, Miss Hartwell. It isn’t nice to tell untruths. You can be honest. He is an attractive man.”
“Yes. Mr. Fairgate is an attractive man. As are many men in London, I’m sure.”
“Ah, but it’s not many men in London you’re dangling after, now, is it?”
Francesca straightened her spine. “You’re quite wrong, I assure you.”
“I don’t think so, Miss Hartwell. Why, a pretty little thing like you is sure to attract any number of men. The question is, what have you to offer someone like Mr. Fairgate?”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
Adjusting her hat, Miss Cartwright smiled. But nothing about it was friendly. More like menacing. Dangerous. She could have passed for a close relative of Harvey, the alligator that had swum the Tower’s moat in years past.
“Let me be quite clear, Miss Hartwell. I plan to marry Mr. Fairgate, and marry him I shall. I’ve known him my entire life, and have been grooming him to be the perfect husband. He’s a little rough around the edges, you see, but after we’re married, I’ll be better able to fix what’s broken.”
“You make him sound like an old clock. There’s nothing wrong with him. He’s quite perf—” She widened her eyes. Had she just admitted that to Miss Cartwright, of all people?
“Ah. So I was right. I had a hunch you were after him, but now I know for sure.” She stood, smoothing her gloved hands down the front of her dress. “Let me be exceedingly clear, little girl. You will stay away from him.” She leaned close to Francesca’s face, her flowery perfume overpowering and obnoxious. “Because. He. Is. Mine.”
Chapter Seven
Two little girls in tiny hats and gloves stood hanging onto their mother’s skirt, peering up at Francesca with huge brown eyes. Francesca smiled at them and pointed to her right. The little girls’ parents wanted them to see the brown bear. As they walked away, Francesca shrugged. That smelly bear again. They’d stood right beside the lynx’s cage and hadn’t even given the cat a glance.
Someone shuffled from a few yards behind her. Papa? Turning, Francesca widened her eyes. Mr. Fairgate was approaching Papa. What would they have to discuss? Should she go and see or wait until called?
Papa would scold her for being nosy, so she stayed in front of the lynx. Reaching her fingers between the bars, she wiggled them toward the cat, who took steady plodding steps toward her. A cold wet nose on her skin couldn’t distract her from leaning her head toward the men’s conversation. Although she did try to appear as if she wasn’t paying them any attention. At least then, she’d give the appearance of not being too nosy. She hoped.
Papa’s rough voice floated to her, competing with the lion’s hearty early morning growl. “Certainly, Mr. Fairgate. I’m sure Franny would be most happy to accompany you. And, of course, answer any questions you may have about the zoo and its…” cough ahem, “… functions.”
Francesca rolled her eyes. Papa certainly wasn’t losing any opportunity to garner more income for the zoo. Not that she could blame him. It was their livelihood, after all.
But what was that about her accompanying Mr. Fairgate? Surely her father wasn’t agreeing to her and Mr. Fairgate having an outing together? Could it be possible? Her heartbeat raced, sending shivers up and down her middle.
Would they go alone? No. Someone like Mr. Fairgate would regard society’s standards of propriety, at least from what she’d observed during their recent discussions. He seemed so honest and gentlemanly. And Francesca couldn’t even imagine her father allowing her away from the zoo with a man. Perhaps Mr. Fairgate employed a maid or footman who would act as chaperone?
She leaned even farther toward them. Tilting a little too much to the side, however, made her grab the cage’s bar tighter. Wouldn’t that be a sight if she toppled to the ground where Mr. Fairgate could see? Whiskers tickled her hand and she glanced back toward the lynx. Her mouth curving up in a smile, she rubbed the cat’s fur between his eyes.
“Sorry, dear. Didn’t mean to ignore you. You know I love you. But I’m trying to hear what they’re saying. It has something to do with me, and I simply must know what it is. Can you believe that I might be able to accompany—”
Someone cleared his throat. Papa now stood quite close, with raised eyebrows. Mr. Fairgate bit his lip and hid a grin.
Oh, dear. Caught again talking to the cats. She sighed. It seemed she was forever being caught doing something to bring mirth to someone. But then, everyone had to be accomplished at something, didn’t she?
“Franny, Mr. Fairgate has asked if you could accompany him to the Bird Sanctuary. I’ve given my consent.”
She widened her eyes. So it was true! She was to have an outing with Mr. Fairgate. What would she wear? Say? Would they have enough to discuss after their brief acquaintance, or would they sit and stare straight ahead, at a loss for topics of conversation?
Suddenly, the thought of being away from the safe, steady environment of the zoo terrorized her. Not because she was leaving it, because she did occasionally visit other parts of the park, as well as local markets and shopkeepers, of course. But because it was to be with him. What if she made a complete fool of herself?
What if…
Her tongue stuck to the room of her mouth, suddenly gone as dry as the hot climate the kangaroos came from. Nodding, she coughed. Tried to clear her throat. Stupid voice. Just when she needed it, it hid. Would Mr. Fairgate think her rude?
He stood with brows lowered, mouth curved down at the corners. Eyes sad. Oh no! He’d think her rude and ungrateful.
Papa glared at her. “Franny?”
Closing her eyes briefly, she swallowed hard. Smiling, she glanced
at her father and then Mr. Fairgate. “That would be lovely. Thank you.”
There. She’d gotten out actual words. Better than the gurgle she’d feared would erupt instead.
Slumping his shoulders as if in relief, Mr. Fairgate lost his frown. “Splendid, Miss Hartwell. May I return for you in the afternoon?” He stepped closer. “I know how busy you are, talking with the cats, and all.” A smirk graced his lips as he darted a glance toward the lynx. “But I thought perhaps a few hours notice would allow you to… be ready for our outing?”
Francesca looked down. Well, yes, of course. She wasn’t at all presentable in her current state. Dusty boots and an old, faded dress simply would not do. Mr. Fairgate never failed to appear with a shine to his boots and spotless attire. But what did she have to rival his appearance?
Realization sank in. Nothing. She had nothing that would be good enough. Having observed women who frequented the zoo, she knew how the wealthy dressed. Hats with new ribbons. Snow-white gloves. Day gowns in pretty pastels. What should she do?
She looked up. Oh, bother. She’d done it again. Woolgathering seemed to be her favorite occupation of late. There stood both men with raised eyebrows. Waiting. For her to say something. Anything. “Um, yes. Thank you. I’ll be ready.”
“Wonderful.” Mr. Fairgate tipped his hat and angled back toward the entrance gate, disappearing through a steady stream of people now entering.
Large calloused fingers wrapped around her wrist. “Franny? What’s the matter with you?”
She shrugged. “What will I wear, Papa? I don’t have anything nice enough.”
“You’ll wear your church clothes, of course.”
“But that won’t even—”
“It’s the nicest thing you have, isn’t it?”
“Yes. But…”
“Franny. It’s all you have. And you know I can’t afford to buy you anything new.” Downcast eyes beneath his bushy eyebrows nearly broke her heart. He did the best he could for her and her words sounded ungrateful.
Patting his shoulder with her other hand, she lightened her tone. “It’s okay, Papa, I’m sure my church dress will suit just fine.”
He sighed and gave her a one-sided, brief smile.
She lowered her voice. “But it surprised me that you would allow me such an outing.”
Stepping closer he whispered. “Remember what we discussed last evening? About the zoo’s finances?”
Nodding, she gave his shoulder a final pat as he released her other hand. “But an outing? With Mr. Fairgate?”
“Normally I wouldn’t like it, Franny. But times being what they are…” His sentiment drifted off, mingling with the normal growls and roars of the wild cats.
So was she to be used as some kind of pawn for the zoo’s benefit? Perhaps. But would it be so terrible? It had the potential to help her father and after all, she got to spend time with Mr. Fairgate away from the zoo!
Heart racing anew, she clenched her fingers together in front of her. What if she died of fright before Mr. Fairgate retrieved her from the zoo’s gates? Would someone take the time to sweep her aside so zoo visitors didn’t trip over her body?
“But, Papa, he and I won’t be… alone?”
Eyes widening, he gave a brusque headshake, dislodging his sparse strands of hair from their combed position. “Of course not. His uncle’s maid is to be your chaperone. I expect you to behave yourself, Franny. You’re a representative of the Tower of Lions.”
“I’m not a child.” Stomping her boot as Brunella might stomp on a stray ostrich feather that floated into her enclosure, Francesca suddenly paused. Heat rose to her cheeks. She was acting the part of a child. If Mr. Fairgate saw fit to request her accompaniment on a trip to the Bird Sanctuary, Francesca had better gather her wits, curb her pesky, outspoken tongue, and act like the woman she was fast becoming.
And that started with how she spoke to her father. “You’re right, Papa. I’ll be the perfect lady and represent you and the zoo in the best light. You can count on me.”
An eyebrow raised above watery eyes was his only answer. Heading the opposite direction toward the tiger’s cage, he left her standing alone with the lynx.
Time to get ready!
Several zoo visitors stared as she rushed past them toward the main gate and out into the warm sunshine of the East Side. Running in front of a large carriage, she cringed when a horse whinnied and someone gasped. So much for acting like a lady. At least Mr. Fairgate hadn’t witnessed that. And it was his opinion that counted. At least to her.
Slowing her pace to a quick walk, she wiped perspiration from her forehead. If she didn’t calm down, she’d not be fit to accompany anyone today. Anywhere.
Francesca passed the lines of tall houses, crowded together like visitors waiting impatiently in line at the Tower’s gate on a busy day. The smell of fish and saltwater filled the air, a testament to the nearness of the river. It was no wonder so many of the houses’ renters were fishermen and dock workers.
Several blocks later, she hurried up to the front door of the small house she shared with her father behind Gracechurch Street. Warmth from the sun through the windows had warmed the front room since earlier that morning when she’d left for the zoo.
Purrrrr. “Ah. There you are.” Stepping toward one window, she knelt down beside two black cats. “I see you found your sunbeam.” Romeo, the male, rolled on his back and purred louder. Francesca ran her fingers through his long fur, back and forth, up and down.
“If you purr any louder, you’ll expire, Romeo.”
Merrow. “Yes, your turn next, dear Juliet.” The female never did have any patience. And hated it when Romeo got attention ahead of her. “I love you both. And that’s why God gave me two hands for two cats.”
Laughing, she reached out and stroked each cat’s head. Sitting between the two rumbling felines warmed her more than the sun through the dusty window ever could.
“Much as I‘d like to, I can’t sit here long. I have to get my ensemble ready so I can be back at the zoo to meet Mr. Fairgate. Oh, you both would like him so much. He loves cats, too.” She sighed. “I fear I’m developing feelings for the man that won’t ever be returned. How could they? He’s so handsome, and well-to-do. And I’m… well, not.
“Nevertheless, my little kitties, I need to be back to the zoo on time!” Pulling away from the warm, furry bodies, she giggled when the cats harrumphed at her. Just like the big cats at the zoo.
Apparently, cats were cats, no matter their size.
In her bedroom, she pulled her good dress from the back of her wardrobe, batting at the tiny wrinkles in the skirt. Tilting her head this way and that, Francesca squinted. Why had she not noticed the slight fray of the collar? The small snag in the pale pink fabric along one sleeve? Was it because she’d never worried before about her appearance?
Until now. Until Mr. Fairgate.
If only I could buy something new. Something fancy. Something…
No. That would not do. With no money to spare, she’d have to wear what she had. Maybe Mr. Fairgate wouldn’t notice her dress’s age and condition. Blinking back tears, she bit her lip. What must it be like to go out and purchase whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted? Miss Cartwright had not wasted any time, and by all appearances, any expense with her new boots.
But then, she wouldn’t have needed new boots if Francesca hadn’t steered the other woman toward that smelly, disgusting blob. Sputtering out a giggle, she pressed her fingers to her lips and breathed deeply. Must not laugh. Today I will act like a lady.
In spite of Miss Cartwright’s soiled boots.
And crow-like voice.
And frowning parrot on her hat.
Oh, who am I fooling? She fell on her bed next to her dress and laughed till her sides heaved and tears streamed down her face. She gasped in a gulp of air to catch her breath. It wasn’t nice to make fun of someone at their expense, but something about that woman rankled Francesca. Was it her snooty attitude and
cold blue eyes, or was it more?
More. Definitely more. And it had everything to do with a handsome man they both seemed to have an interest in. If it came down to a hair-pulling, claw-scratching, boot-stomping catfight, Francesca knew she would win. She grinned. Because she did, of course, have a wealth of cat experience.
Gazing at the ceiling, she finally sobered. She was going on an excursion with Mr. Fairgate!
Her!
Today!
Would it be simply two acquaintances conversing about their favorite animals from the zoo and observing the different birds at the Sanctuary? Or would today be the first of many such outings? But that was too much to hope for. For someone like her.
She’d never had the pleasure of seeing the birds, though she’d often wanted to. Only the upper crust of society was welcomed there. Perhaps one day it would be open to everyone, but for now, no.
What kind of carriage would Mr. Fairgate come in? A fancy black one with his own driver? As often as she’d watched the different curricles and carriages deliver zoo visitors, she’d never even been as close to one as to reach out and touch the dark fur of snorting horses, or to stand on tiptoe and peek inside the gleaming carriage itself.
But that was about to change. Today, she was going to be in one. She undressed and left her old clothes at the foot of her bed. How strange to be donning her Sunday dress on a weekday. As if she were doing something illegal. The soft fabric grazed over her skin as she tugged the skirt down over her hips. She’d have to be extra careful on her way back to the zoo, not to soil her dress or boots.
Boots. Yes, she’d need her other pair. They weren’t as shiny as she would have liked, but they were a lot better than the ones she wore every day.
Grabbing a white hat adorned with small pink flowers from the top of her dresser, she started to put it on.
Wait. Not over the rat’s nest that at present resided on her head. Setting aside the hat, she released her hair from its untidy bun. She reached for her hairbrush. Ow! Pulling the bristles through her hair, she found unwanted knots. Sigh. Couldn’t this be the one day her hair was smooth and untangled? Starting at the bottom and working her way up, she slowly undid the gnarled mess.
Romance at the Royal Menagerie Page 7
