The Lady of May Tulip (The Lynchman's Owl Adventures)

by B. Y. Yan

  Still the man did not stir, and it was Yamcey who piped up in his defense.

  “I think we should allow an audience, my lord.”

  The baron whirled upon him. “What? And allow a spy inside my walls? I won’t have it. Send him away at once.”

  “It is a her, sir,” he replied, “and I think we should hear what she has come to say.”

  Hungary Mandalin was nobody’s fool. Immediately his mind turned towards the one person it could have been.

  “You can’t mean—! But how did she get away?”

  “Who can say?” shrugged his valet.

  Nodding to the doorman the baron commanded him in a fierce, eager voice.

  “Show her in!”

  The doorman clicked his heels together and departed at once. In a moment there was shown into the baron’s sitting room one of the most distinguished guests who was to have ever set foot in Gildboors, though things began on a decidedly strange note when the dainty form (the very same, mind you, we have only hours ago witnessed at the center of a scuffle between nations) ripped off her veil and cast it away upon entering, revealing beneath it a face which was wholly unfamiliar to the occupants of the lavish chamber.

  “Gentlemen,” she said.

  It was naturally the baron she had come for. But unlike many others before, the true power at Gildboors was not neglected from her notice. With a woman’s perception she picked out from amongst the bustling throng both Hungary Mandalin and Yamcey, the two principle actors before whom she dipped into a curtsy.

  The cousins, for their part, exchanged flabbergasted glances. It was not often that the baron saw his most intimate genuinely surprised, and relishing in the moment it was some time before he had thought to ask their strange guest about her business.

  She, however, headed him off before he could begin, speaking up suddenly as if directly into his thoughts.

  “I trust, my lord, that I am not wholly who you were expecting.”

  A shake of the baron’s head confirmed her suspicions, but nonetheless he showed her into Yamcey’s chair while the valet got on emptying the sitting room so that for the duration of their conversation the three of them were left alone and undisturbed. Returning to stand behind his master, they listened together to the story of their remarkable intruder.

  “I am,” said she, “as you see me before you, not the lady you are looking for. In fact, if I may be so bold as to say, perhaps I am no kind of lady at all. But to that tragic woman whom you have devoted your energies, my lord, I am the closest thing to family she has in that foreign land.” She wrung her hands together before continuing. “I am to her, your lady of tulips, an early rival. Acting was as well my heart’s desires from youth, and which was later made into a small profession. But despite losing several prominent roles to that woman who would go on to capture the eyes of the nation I cannot say I have ever harbored her anything beyond the normal competitiveness which is my nature. We were never close, mind, but our distance did not stop my admiration of what is to be considered true genius in our trade—the kind which only comes by once every few decades.”

  In their presence she took a deep breath, her shoulders shuddering from the effort as if merely recalling these memories to an audience was in itself a taxing endeavor. But when she spoke her voice was firm, without the slightest tremor which would have betrayed any hesitation on her part to bring the whole thing into the light.

  “It was this same admiration which caused me to watch the rise and decline of her career with great interest,” she told them, “and I count myself as heartbroken as the rest when she chose to cut short her tenure with the troupe in order to follow this man overseas. But at the time I thought little enough on the matter, until some years later when I received a letter from her in which she detailed her suffering and abuse at the hands of her husband.”

  “She wrote to you, madam, of all people, about her plight?” the baron asked with great interest.

  A nod from their mysterious guest. “To date I do not understand why I should have been the target of her correspondences, for we were never close. But the distance between us rapidly shrank from these letters in which I was made aware of her situation. Perhaps she thought a half-blood like myself would not look down upon her and begrudge her for her initial decisions like so many others. Or perhaps it was only out of embarrassment that she did not reach out to her family and friends. Whatever the case, my lords, I became her confidante, and when later she heard something of my own difficulties and invited me over I took her up on her offer. I have not much family of my own to speak of, you see, and poor decisions have left me in something of a hard position. I was a performer without a patron, without much to my name beyond my one-time association with the most distinguished opera of the land. But I will say that I was not purely moved to go to her for my own sake, for I have by then long sought to see to her wellbeing for myself.

  “I went. I stayed. As it turned out the money with which she had set me up in her own company was her husband’s, and later when funds ran inevitably dry I was made to take up in their home as a governess to their son.”

  “Their son!” the baron ejaculated in shock.

  “Oh yes,” she replied with a nod. “Though it is not common knowledge. It is the foremost reason she has stayed with him despite his thuggish nature. But poor creature that she was, later when the boy passed from illness and she was at last free to part from him, her own font had been years used up and her will was almost entirely sapped. It was a furious blow to her in mind, body and soul; and while I could offer little real comfort, I still chose to remain by her side. You see, gentlemen, it was I who found for her a kindly lawyer to look over her divorce. It was I who secreted her out during the day to meet with him. When things came to a head it was I who snatched the knife away from her hands before she did something drastic. So today you must believe me when I say that I am her creature inside and out, and now your willing ally.”

  It was impossible for anyone to hear such a heartfelt rendition of past events without being moved to the depths of their souls. It was also beyond the power of good men to ignore the bravery displayed by this young woman for the distances she was willing to go to on her friend’s behalf. The baron stood up from his chair, and beside him his man bowed with him before her.

  “Your servants,” they said together.

  She nodded eagerly, and breathed a long, grateful sigh of relief. In that moment she had ceased to be a humble messenger and intimate sister of the lady they were sworn to defend. She was, in her own right, a strange and ailing queen falling to their doorstep for aid.

  “We will do all that we can,” the baron assured her. “But madam, I must ask you: Where is she now, our dear lady of tulips?”

  “Ah!” she said with a pained smile. “What you are really asking me, sir, is why I have been dressing up as her at public appearances.”

  “In so many words, yes.”

  “It is for the simple reason that the lady herself is indisposed, have been for some time now.”

  The cousins started.

  “Do you mean to say, madam, that you have been more than once the figure at the villain’s side in place of his true wife?”

  “I have,” she said sadly with a nod. “It gives me no pleasure to play this deception, but for years now your lady has been a near invalid on account of her demon of a husband. Her hair has fallen out, her skin has yellowed and withered, and the light in her eyes, so willful and fiery in her youth, has been reduced to the dead grey ashes of an empty hearth. You will undoubtedly have heard something of her recent trip to an attorney’s office that swiftly developed into an international scandal, but allow me to assure you that it was merely the last in a long line of clandestine visits to professionals than I care to remember. We have turned away doctors, clergymen and psychoanalysts far more than you can name. None of it has ever done any good.”

  “But why you, of all people, madam?” the baron’s man piped up suddenly.


  Their eyes met then, clear turquoise to impenetrable grey. She hesitated for the briefest of instances before she answered.

  “Who else is there, sir? Appearances needed to be kept up, and you will notice I am of a similar height to the lady. The bedsheet they throw over me obscures all else, and I have suffered enough to properly understand the punishment for defiance.”

  “But yet you are here, and talking with us,” said Yamcey.

  The woman, for her part, favored him with a weakened smile.

  “You will forgive me for trying, sir. When I saw the extent you both of you were willing effort on her behalf, well, I thought I had at last found her salvation.”

  “You are a very loyal friend, madam,” said the baron graciously. “But what do you think you can do for us?”

  She, this willful, courageous thing, was taken abruptly aback.

  “Why, anything you need me for, my lord!”

  “And what, pray, could that be?” he replied solemnly. “Can you make my train go faster? Do you come with a cache of secrets that will allow me to gain an advantage over my foe?”

  “Whatever uses you may make of me—” she began with some warmth. The baron, however, took a step forward and kneeling, gently took her hands in his.

  “No, madam. You have been played. I cannot see how your presence may be of any use to me beyond the very obvious. You are by far not as clever as you think, and your appearance on my doorstep was an obvious ruse. Not yours, mind, for yours is a genuine heart to do some good. But I must tell you now so that you will be prepared for disappointment later when it becomes apparent that Cudgel has allowed you to sneak away, knowing you would reach out to me. And in listening to your tale—as no man would fail to do given what you have told me—he would have gained a leg up on our race.”

  “But you are not set to go until three weeks from today!” she cried.

  The baron, from the floor, threw a sidelong look at his cousin, who nodded grimly in reply. He turned back to the young woman.

  “As my man here has been spending the afternoon telling me, it begun as soon as we pressed thumbs. You have been allowed to come all this way unhindered to deliver him an advantage”—in that instant there was an urgent knock at the sitting-room door— “and I would be very surprised if that was not new information which might throw some light on the matter. Get the door, Yamcey, and let’s hear all about this new business.”

  From the slit in the door there came a hurried, whispered conversation before the butler swiftly returned, wearing a very grave look.

  “Our spies report that Lord Cudgmore has taken Hadley under his wing. The man has been offered a position at the offices of transportation under his recommendation, with a citizenship granted gratis.”

  “Ah!” cried the baron knowingly.

  “Our men have also breached the university, but nothing is to be discovered of Garbunks. A search of the campus is being conducted as we speak, and the esteemed doctor has professed utter ignorance at the disappearance of his disciple. In fact, he is furious.”

  “So you see, madam,” said the baron wryly to his guest, “how you have been manipulated. But in your defense you could never have known, and these little steps we have taken against one another would have happened regardless of your presence.” He stroked the back of her shaking hand gently. “And it is laughable to think that Cudgel, of all people, should think me sentimental enough to be delayed by such an obvious ploy, when what he has really done is to give me an ally through whom I have learned the intimate details of the intertwined destinies of these wonderful women I am trying to help. I humbly beg that you will stay, madam. You obviously cannot go back now that your betrayal is common knowledge. But Gildboors is your home now, and it is here you will wait while we sort the whole matter out.”

  The young woman was silent for a long moment following the realization that she had been had. Biting her lower lip, she nonetheless managed to gather enough of her resolve to refuse the baron’s generous offer.

  “I cannot, my lord. My mistress still needs me, and it is to her that I am sworn above all others. But before tonight is done I shall hope to strike a blow on my own behalf for you. I do not like being taken. I like even less to be thought of as a burden or inconvenience to others. There is no mistake one cannot mend through admission and effort, as I have been taught, so you may make any use of me as you want to that end.”

  “Well—” the baron began uncertainly.

  It was plainly apparent that she was not a creature to be denied. Her hands in his flipped over so that she was gripping his fingers with astonishing strength.

  “Please, my lord. You have done so much for the lady, even when she is still so far away, that her unwilling doppelganger is shamed to have achieved so little in so much more time. You were nearly shot for your troubles today.”

  He only smiled, “I must confess I was really only sticking up for my own then.” Hungary looked affectionately towards his cousin.

  “But still,” she persisted. “It was a very brave thing to do. I know something of Lord Cudgmore’s temper. Do not think he would not fire on foreign soil, even upon so mighty a figure. I shudder to think what would have become of things had he got off a shot.”

  “Well, madam,” laughed the baron. “I suppose I would have had to catch the bullet.”

  It should be clear what our Hungary was trying to do. At a loss for how best to deflect her advances, he had resorted to irrelevant bragging and ill-advised humor. She, however, looked upon him with a plain, disbelieving stare, but soon resumed her pleas to make some use of herself for the lady’s sake. A strong-willed creature, this one, she was all but impossible to refuse. The baron, helpless to convince her otherwise, looked instead to his man for aid. Yamcey, much to his surprise, rewarded him with a sudden, unexpected acquiescence to their guest’s demands.

  “We are looking to enlist the services of two men, Gains and Gamble, for the Lord Viceroy’s train,” said he coolly. “Together they are the best conductor-drivers in the city. At this moment wires are being flown down the lines and policemen will soon be knocking up their doors. Gains is a young man, seldom known to come home before nine. It is in the pubs, alehouses and billiard rooms that we will find him. Gamble, however, is a father of six. His wife is our current target, and we would not mind if you can make yourself useful by going to her to search him out.”

  She agreed at once. Standing she bowed to the cousins.

  “I won’t disappoint you, sirs.”

  “You will, of course, be escorted by our own agents,” the valet continued unabated. “It is our hope that, woman-to-woman, you will soon have your hands on our man.”

  She wasted no time. Bowing again she was already drawing open the sitting room door when the baron abruptly called her back.

  “This seems like an impossibly silly thing,” he laughed. “But in all this excitement, throwing off your hood the way you did, we never learned your name. What are we to call you, madam, but for ‘friend’?”

  She smiled. It was to her features a more dazzling embellishment than the best and brightest jewels of the world.

  “I am Madeline Pyre, my lords,” she told them both. “But you would have not heard of that name before today. You may call me Maddy if I am truly to be your friend. And you are not as fearsome as everybody makes you out to be.”

  With that parting comment she vanished from sight behind the door, her footsteps echoing away down the hallway towards the foyer. Inside the sitting-room the cousins, as you might have expected, exchanged a wary, disbelieving look.

  “I think, Hungary,” his man spoke up after a moment, “you had best get ready too.”

  “Going where, exactly?” the baron asked him.

  “Whichever man—Gains or Gamble—you see fit to find first. It is always nice to take a personal hand in matters; don’t you think?”

  “And what would you be doing in the meantime, my dear cousin?” he asked him curiously.

  �
�I have my own researches to attend to. And as this is a game of chasing down leads and people, with my deficiencies you would hardly want my help. Now go along, my lord. We are already falling behind the great race.”

  His cousin, however, did not stir. He was looking upon him with a strange expression which could not be read.

  “Yes?” he was asked by the butler with some annoyance. “Is there anything else?”

  Hungary Mandalin shook his head. “Just admit it, Yamcey, it’s this new Maddy you want me to watch out for.”

  A withering look cast in the baron’s direction made the tyrant of the Coal Coast flinch as nothing else could have, and Hungary, still shaking his head, hurried off at once.

  *

  It will please my readers that when this unlikely trio reconvened much later that evening at Gildboors, some good have come of their respective efforts in the field. But it did not come without a few roundabout turns, as you will soon see.

  When the baron’s great black carriage rumbled up to the curb before a series of narrow, closely squeezed together doors, the driver, September, jumped down from the box and drew the door for Miss Madeline. They were on the outermost fringes of Games, about a quarter mile or nearly enough to the largest train station in the city—the very spot where, in a few weeks, Cudgmore vs. Mandalin was set to properly begin. Before them lay a series of well-maintained white-stone houses, throwing long shadows outwards from their tall faces. Behind them a collection of white clouds crested their rooftops, washed in a faint reddish glow by the sun setting below the horizon in the distance. The wind in that time of year was biting, and swirling up and down the street mirrored the moods of those who had come in search of their quarry. A patrolman awaited them just inside the low fence which barred off the property. Undoing the latch on the gate, they were swiftly let through and led up the steps to the door.

  The mailmen have not been idle, and their purpose was well known to the occupant. She, for her part, had been shut up in her home, waiting on the conclusion of her husband’s shift at the train-yard with every anticipation that he would soon be drafted into the baron’s service.