The Antics of Evangeline: Collection 1: Mystery and Mayhem in steampunk Melbourne

by Madeleine D'Este

  An army of serving staff darted amongst the hundreds of guests. Footmen in white tails slid across the room, laden with silver trays, lighting cigars and collecting plates and glasses. Two particular footmen caught Evangeline's eye, not only for their impressive height and handsome faces. The two footmen, on opposite sides of the room, shot each other sideways glances when they thought no one was looking. There was something familiar and suspect about their behaviour. She vowed to keep a close eye on these shady characters. If only she'd brought her latest invention with her.

  "I will!" a young gentleman announced loudly. "Mark my words."

  His companions guffawed heartily, slapping him on the back. The watercolour girls turned, looking down their noses at the men and their boisterous display.

  "Isn't my brother odious?" Albertine rolled her eyes.

  On the other hand, Evangeline was quite envious. The gentlemen seemed to be having a rather jolly time.

  "I tell you, I'll catch the Bunyip myself," Percy Sharpthorne said.

  Evangeline's ears pricked up.

  "Monsters." Jemima smoothed one of her golden ringlets with a gloved hand. "How vulgar."

  Evangeline could still hear the policeman's screams for help echoing in her ears, picturing his face twisted with fear. If only his collar hadn't slipped through her fingers. She was determined to be better prepared next time.

  Taking another two steps away from the watercolour girls and towards the rowdy gentlemen, Evangeline eavesdropped on their monster hunting plans.

  "The £500 will be mine, I tell you. It'll be an absolute doddle." Percy continued his chest beating while his friends shook their heads. "I hunted with Father in India before coming out here. Lions. Tigers. Crocottas. The whole lot."

  With a quick glance, Evangeline assessed Percy Sharpthorne's credentials. With such round cheeks and baby-like skin, Percy would make a fine supper for the Bunyip. He did not stand a chance.

  "You'll need to deliver it alive," said Basil Mawdesley.

  "Easy peasy, old chaps."

  "Better men than you have failed already," said Barnaby Rippingale.

  This was the first time Evangeline had heard Barnaby Rippingale speak, his calm cultured voice creating a funny quiver in her tummy. She tried not to stare at his heavy eyelashes and chocolate brown eyes. The watercolour girls often giggled and swooned about Barnaby Rippingale, now Evangeline understood why. He was quite the belle of the ball.

  "My driver claims he saw it one night," replied Albion Middlehall. Albion's face was dominated by eyebrows, two thick black slugs asleep above his small eyes. "Twelve foot high, he said. Black as night, with sharp claws and red eyes."

  Evangeline's tongue tingled but she kept her mouth firmly closed.

  "I heard it has wings like a dragon," Percy said.

  "My uncle saw one years ago," Basil added. "Sunning itself on the banks of the Yarra. He said it was covered in feathers, like an enormous bird."

  "You are all mistaken," Evangeline said, stepping forward.

  The four young gentlemen swivelled around, Basil and Percy with a sneer, Barnaby and Albion with curious looks on their faces.

  "And you are an expert in all matters Bunyip? Miss?" said Percy.

  "Caldicott. Miss Evangeline Caldicott," she replied.

  Even Evangeline knew this was not the correct way to become acquainted with a young gentleman, but manners were not important now, there were more interesting things to discuss. Monsters.

  "I saw the beast on the Yarra this morning. With my own eyes."

  "You were there?" Albion said with awe.

  The men crowded around her, firing questions from all directions.

  "Tell us. Every detail."

  "I expect you were extremely frightened. Did you faint?" asked Percy.

  Evangeline lifted a disdainful eyebrow.

  "I heard it took three people."

  "Only one. I tried but I couldn't save him," Evangeline said with a slow shake of her head. "The creature tore him from my grasp."

  Albion whistled long and low through his teeth. The other three looked on, with slackened jaws.

  "You mentioned a prize?" Evangeline asked.

  "A reward for the Bunyip's capture is being announced in tomorrow's edition of The Argus."

  "And it will be mine," said Percy.

  Evangeline smiled sweetly.

  Percy Sharpthorne should not count his winnings yet. It did not pay to underestimate Evangeline Caldicott when she put her mind to an adventure.

  Chapter 4

  "And how will you go about catching the creature?" Evangeline asked, taking a seat with the four gentlemen at a table by the dance floor, hoping for an inside scoop from Percy the hapless braggart.

  "Well..." Percy started.

  "Gentlemen. Good evening," said a voice. Evangeline winced. It was Uncle Augie. She knew this was not the type of male attention Augie had envisaged for her. "I see you have met my niece."

  The young gentlemen all nodded.

  "May I steal Miss Evangeline away to dance?"

  "Of course, Mr Beauchamp. Delighted to make your acquaintance, Miss Caldicott," Albion Middlehall said, taking Evangeline's hand. "I hope we get a chance to finish our discussion soon."

  Uncle Augie smiled graciously before gripping Evangeline firmly by the elbow and tugging her away from the table.

  "What are you doing talking with a group of gentlemen, unchaperoned?" he hissed. "People will talk. There are many wicked tongues and old gossips in this room. I should know. Most of them are my friends."

  "No one cares a whit about me, Uncle." Evangeline shrugged. "I'm a nobody."

  "Nonsense. You are my niece! And the daughter of the most well-respected horological-engineer in all the Colonies. I didn't procure this invitation for you to talk monsters all night. What will people think? Come, let's introduce you to a few respectable ladies."

  As Uncle Augie ushered Evangeline away from the men, she spied the long tables towering with food. Beef, ham and tongue sandwiches, oysters, sliced chicken and goose lay on silver trays. Crystal glasses filled with wobbly jellies, blancmanges and custards on automated cake stands, slowly revolved around three towering cream sponge cakes, dotted with strawberries. Deliciousness was on display from every angle, yet no one appeared to be eating. Evangeline vividly remembered her urchin days with an achingly empty belly. She could not bear to see food go to waste.

  "Cake," she said, tugging Augie towards the feast.

  Augie tutted.

  "Only a bite. Remember how tightly we laced you into that dress."

  Evangeline gazed over the wonderful selection on the table. Choosing only one was nearly as bad as having nothing at all.

  "Um," she said, dithering.

  "Hurry," Uncle Augie said through clenched teeth.

  Evangeline chose a delightfully wobbly pink blancmange with a red glace cherry in the centre.

  "Ah, Mrs. Gorseinon," Augie called out to a woman in a violently purple gown, displaying an acre of bosom. "How handsome you look this evening."

  Evangeline managed a single heavenly spoonful before Augie grabbed her by the elbow.

  "Time to dance."

  With a heavy sigh, Evangeline said goodbye to the blancmange and her not-real uncle whisked her into the middle of the dance floor.

  "Remember how we practiced," he said through a forced smile. "Now, try and look as though you're enjoying yourself."

  In spite of his great height and ample girth, Augie twirled Evangeline effortlessly around the dance floor. She desperately tried to keep up with the steps, while on the other side of the room, Barnaby Rippingale glided across the polished floorboards, tall and straight in perfect step with his golden-haired partner. Evangeline deflated when she recognised a beaming Jemima Lydlinch on his arm.

  The song ended and someone tapped her on the shoulder. It was her Uncle Edmund, her father’s brother and Augie's best friend.

  "May I?"

  "I'd be delighted." Evange
line smiled.

  Augie made a melodramatic humphing noise before slipping away with a cheeky grin to join another group of ladies.

  Uncle Edmund's steps were slower and less theatrical than Augie's, but in his arms, Evangeline finally relaxed.

  "Apologies for my tardiness. There was a late appointment at Parliament House. A few minor changes to the design of the new Ministry Building. Philistines. Are you enjoying yourself, my dear?"

  Evangeline paused, taking too long to concoct the right words.

  "I suspected as much. Just like your father." Edmund chuckled. "It would be a cold day in hell before you caught Monty at a Ball.

  "It's so unfair." Evangeline pouted. "Why are these events mandatory for me when Father gives them a wide berth?"

  "There are different expectations for a young lady." Edmund shrugged.

  "I'd much rather be tinkering in the laboratory-workshop. I'm wasting precious time." Evangeline humphed and looked away. Glancing across the room, she noticed the two shifty footmen again, sharing a subtle conspiratorial glance. There was something going on between the men, but they were no amateurs, they blended into the background as though nothing was awry.

  Evangeline and her uncle continued to twirl around the room, coming within earshot of Albion Middlehall and his chums again.

  "If you think you can do this, Percy old fellow, I'm willing to make this Bunyip business even more interesting. I'll put down a wager of £100," Albion Middlehall said. "In addition to The Argus prize."

  "I see the rum is talking already," Uncle Edmund whispered. "Although if anyone can afford such a folly, it's a Middlehall."

  "You're on, old man." Percy puffed out his chest. "Six hundred pounds is a tidy little sum. With the winnings in my pocket and my photograph in The Argus, I'll have every eligible young lady in Melbourne rivalling for my attentions. The ladies adore a man of action."

  His friends collapsed in laughter around him and Evangeline suppressed a little smile.

  A hand appeared on Uncle Edmund's shoulder.

  "Mr. Caldicott. May I cut in?"

  "It would be my pleasure." Edmund said, with a raised eyebrow. "I assume you have made the acquaintance of my niece, Miss Evangeline Caldicott. Newly from London, like myself."

  Evangeline's stomach quivered and her mouth ran dry.

  "We have not been formally introduced, no."

  Barnaby Rippingale picked up Evangeline's gloved hand and pressed his lips just above her knuckles. She braced her legs, in case her knees gave way.

  "Miss Evangeline Caldicott, may I introduce Barnaby Rippingale? Barnaby's a member of my Club. Studying to be a barrister?"

  "Hoping to follow in my father's footsteps."

  "Me too," blurted Evangeline. Her heart fluttering like a hummingbird under her corsetry.

  "You are studying for the bar? How very modern."

  Evangeline flushed ruby red.

  "No. An inventor."

  "Really? How interesting. You must tell me more as we waltz."

  The next song struck up and Evangeline found herself in Barnaby's careful arms. She wanted to gaze up at him, but she did not dare.

  "Miss Caldicott, I do not believe I have seen you at any other events this season." Barnaby swept her gracefully across the floor. "Your uncle mentioned you are new to Melbourne. Where were you in London?"

  "Oh, here and there," Evangeline said. "We moved about a lot."

  "With your father's profession?"

  "Yes."

  In her former life with the circus troupes and the street performers, Evangeline had no permanent home. After the death of her mother, she was dragged from hovel to hovel, from one swindle to another by her drunken stepfather, Charlie Drigg. The man she thought was her father for almost seventeen years, until she learned the truth about the Professor.

  Barnaby flinched ever so slightly and Evangeline realised she was gripping his shoulder like a vice. The memories of Charlie Drigg's belt were still fresh in her mind. She loosened her hold and Barnaby continued.

  "I thought the Professor was strictly a King's College man. I didn't realise he moved about."

  "Oh. Um. No." Evangeline stopped before she tripped over her own lies. Barnaby did not need to know about her unwholesome past. Evangeline never lived with the Professor in London, their first meeting was the day she arrived in Melbourne.

  A look of confusion passed over Barnaby's handsome face. Evangeline would have kicked herself if she hadn't been dancing.

  Avoiding Barnaby's glorious eyelashes, she glanced across the room and caught sight of the suspicious footmen again. She craned her neck awkwardly to keep watch over the characters as Barnaby whirled her around and around.

  The dark-haired footman was slipping something under his jacket. His face was calm and composed while his hands moved swiftly, but his loot caught the light from the overhead chandelier. It was a beaded purse, not the typical accessory for a footman.

  Barnaby swivelled Evangeline around the other side of the crowded dance floor and she lost sight of the dark rogue. But his mousy-haired crony came into view, with a silk jacket folded over his arm, far too expensive for a footman's wage. Evangeline pursed her lips. There could be a perfectly innocent explanation, perhaps the footmen were collecting the guests' belongings for safe keeping, but Evangeline smelled a rat. And she knew the scent of vermin all too well.

  Evangeline narrowed her eyes. What were the footmen up to?

  Chapter 5

  The dark-headed footman moved towards the door with a silver tipped cane now in his hand. He signalled to his pal with an ever-so-slight jerk of his head. Evangeline recognised the routine from her own cutpurse past; the footmen were fleecing the ball. Someone must do something.

  "They're getting away," Evangeline said, tearing herself from Barnaby's arms and dashing across the dance floor.

  "Who?" Barnaby called after her. "Miss Caldicott?"

  Something was holding Evangeline back. She heard ripping fabric and looked down to see her pale blue gown caught under the foot of a portly gentleman.

  "Frightfully sorry," the man said, through his walrus-like ginger moustache.

  With a tug and a tear, Evangeline freed her gown from under his foot and continued running, torn skirts and petticoats for all the world to see. These silly impractical gowns, how was a young lady supposed to catch a thief in such an ensemble?

  "Stop," she yelled. "Stop them."

  Evangeline's voice was drowned out by the orchestra and the increasingly inebriated laughter of the guests, bouncing off the high ceilings and wooden floors.

  The two footmen were reunited in the doorway and slipped out into the night.

  "Thief. Someone stop them!"

  With everyone else distracted, it was up to Evangeline to catch the pilferers. Ignoring her pinching shoes, she broke into a sprint and sped through the door into the cool evening air.

  Outside, the two footmen sauntered away into the distance, following the gravel footpath towards Fitzroy.

  She picked up speed and plunged into a cartwheel. Lifting her arms with a tear of her ridiculously restrictive gown and whale boning stabbing into her ribs, Evangeline flipped three times across the gravel, quickly catching up to the men. But the dastardly footmen heard her coming and started to run.

  Evangeline tumbled forward, launching herself at the dark-haired footman. She grabbed hold of his ankles and tackled him to the ground. Unfamiliar with the nuances of rugby, Evangeline crashed on top of him with an unseemly groan.

  "Get off me, you slapper," the dark-haired man yelled with a kick. "Enright. Help!"

  Enright bolted off into the darkness. Evangeline placed her knee into the small of the footman's back.

  "What's going on?" Augie said. "Evangeline! What are you doing down there. Get off that man, this instant."

  Evangeline looked up. Quite the crowd had come out of the Exhibition Building and down the path, including Edmund, the Bunyip-catching fellows and the watercolour girls. Evan
geline smiled awkwardly at her audience. Even she recognised that her current position sitting astride a footman was rather bewildering.

  "Get off me. I'll have you for assault," the footman protested, his face pressed into the gravel.

  "Playing the innocent, are we? Go ahead and call the constabulary. I'd like to talk to them myself."

  "Evangeline. What is going on?" Edmund said with a serious tone. "Please remove yourself from that footman."

  "I dunno what she's on about, sir," said the footman. "Are you responsible for her? Is she a loony?"

  "He's been stealing from the guests."

  The footman cackled with laughter. The watercolour girls gasped, clutching at their jewelled throats while the gentlemen patted down their own jacket pockets.

  "You got any witnesses, Miss?"

  "Me."

  He squirmed and writhed, knocking Evangeline off his back. She landed with an unladylike thud and reached out to grab his ankles again. The footman managed to scramble to his feet, but a mahogany pipe, a brass mobile telegraph key and a silver snuff box tumbled out of his pockets. The crowd inhaled sharply and tutted.

  "I don't think we need any other witnesses," said Albion Middlehall. "I doubt these items are your personal possessions."

  "Off to the watch house for you, boy," Percy said, as a steam engine driver and another footman grabbed the thief by the elbows.

  "Your gown!" Albertine gasped, horror across her pretty face.

  "A small sacrifice for justice." Evangeline shrugged, glancing down at the torn dirty remnants of her dress. Albion Middlehall held out his hand.

  "Well done, Miss Caldicott."

  Evangeline rose to her feet unassisted and brushed herself off.

  "Why, thank you, Mr. Middlehall," she said. "By the way, I overheard your little wager with Mr. Sharpthorne. I want in."