by Emily Organ
“Who ate the other chickens?” I asked.
“Napoleon’s men, I suppose,” replied Mr Fox-Stirling. “Or the dogs.”
“Or the pigs,” suggested George as the servants cleared away our plates.
“I should tell you, Mr Fox-Stirling, that I am reading volume four of Travels, Trials and Adventure in the Andes,” said Francis.
“Are you indeed?” The explorer seemed surprised to hear that someone was reading his work. “Good man. That’s most pleasing to hear.”
“I’m enjoying the books immensely, and while we’re between courses I should like to show you the map I’ve drawn.” Francis unfolded the drawing he had shown me and Eliza during our boating trip. “Savanilla is at the top here, which is where you will disembark, I believe?”
“Not disembark, exactly. The ship anchors there in the delta of the River Magdalena, then a tender of some sort – usually a rickety form of marine architecture – takes the traveller on to Barranquilla.”
“Ah yes. I’ve marked that here on the map.”
Francis went on to explain the route and I watched as Mr Fox-Stirling pointedly lost interest in what he was saying. Francis also noticed and eventually tailed off.
“Maps have their uses, but I’ve done this before,” said Mr Fox-Stirling once Francis had finished speaking.
“Francis is contributing a significant sum of money to the expedition, Mr Fox-Stirling,” said Eliza.
“And money is all I require!” he replied. “I have no need for maps of a place I have been to before.”
Francis looked crestfallen. “I hope you don’t consider my map to be an interference with your plans, Mr Fox-Stirling,” he said. “I’m merely taking an interest in the search for Mr Green. Perhaps I can be of some assistance.”
“There is no need for assistance,” the explorer replied. “I know what I’m doing.”
I wanted to add that he had travelled the route before and failed to find Father but decided that such a comment would only inflame the situation.
“Given the fact that Francis is contributing so generously to the search I do feel that he should have some influence as to how it is conducted,” ventured Eliza tactfully.
“I appreciate the offer, Mrs Billington-Grieg, but as I say, there’s no need! A chap usually hands over his money and allows me to get on with it. He knows his job and I know mine.”
The room fell silent for a moment and the tension made my toes curl. I glanced at Francis’ disappointed expression and wondered whether there was a risk that he might withdraw his donation.
“Darling,” ventured Mrs Fox-Stirling, “don’t you think that when a patron wishes to —”
“I’m fifty-three, Margaret, and I’ve been doing this for thirty years. I’ve been shot by poisoned arrows, I’ve saved myself from river rapids and I’ve been sent into a three-day trance by the juice of the Banisteriopsis Caapi vine. I don’t require some young fellow to draw me a map!”
Another silence followed, and although Eliza’s face remained calm I detected a slight panic in her eyes as she considered how best to calm the situation. George studied the bottom of his wine glass.
“We have plenty of time before the expedition to Colombia departs,” said Eliza, breaking the silence. “Your experience and dedication is certainly respected, Mr Fox-Stirling, and likewise, Francis, your determination that the search will have a positive outcome is truly honourable. I’m certain that we can reach an agreement to marry the two —”
“I prefer not to marry things together, Mrs Billington-Grieg. I’m not a man of compromise,” retorted Mr Fox-Stirling. “Call me old-fashioned if you will, but every trip I’ve undertaken has been done my way. That’s the way it works.”
The plant-hunter had bored me with his tales and his arrogance was almost too much to bear. I felt so sorry for Francis at having his well-drawn map rejected.
“It didn’t work last time, though, did it?” I said. “You didn’t find our father.”
Everyone turned to stare at me and Mr Fox-Stirling’s expression grew stormy.
“I did my best, Miss Green,” he said stonily.
“Did you? You didn’t even have a Spanish translator with you.”
“My Spanish is perfectly —”
“I’m sorry, Mr Fox-Stirling, but it’s not,” I interrupted. “You admitted yourself when Eliza and I recently met with you that you didn’t understand what the people in El Charqito were saying to you. They could have been telling you about Father and you would have been none the wiser.”
“Penelope,” warned Eliza. “I don’t wish the discussion to escalate into an argument.”
“I think it already has,” said Francis.
Mrs Fox-Stirling looked embarrassed as her husband quickly drained his glass of wine.
Eliza summoned her housekeeper. “Skip the game course, please, and move on to pudding.”
Chapter 36
“That didn’t go terribly well, did it?” said Francis as he escorted me home in a hansom cab.
It was a warm evening and the gas lamps along Oxford Street twinkled as we passed. Although the seat was small we managed to sit at a respectful distance from one another.
“Not well at all,” I replied. “Mr Fox-Stirling seems to resent any assistance with his search whatsoever.”
“I used to be in awe of the chap,” said Francis, “and I have enjoyed reading his books, but he was rather rude this evening, wasn’t he?”
“He was, and there was no call for it, especially when you’re bearing much of the cost! The man is far too arrogant for his own good. I wish someone else could look for Father instead.”
“There aren’t many men who would undertake the task,” replied Francis. “It’s frustrating as I so wish for you and your dear sister to find out once and for all what has happened to your father, and Mr Fox-Stirling isn’t especially helpful. He’s so insistent on doing things his own way.”
“Which I don’t believe is necessarily the best way,” I said.
“Though he does have a lot of experience.”
“Yes, but does he really possess the skills needed to find Father?”
“I had to hide my laughter when you commented quite directly that he had failed in his last mission.”
“It had to be said, didn’t it? There he was sitting there convinced that his way was the correct one, yet he has nothing to back the theory up with! It was rather rude of me, and now I’m worried my comments may have ruined any chance we had of him looking for Father. Eliza will scold me about it when I see her next, I know it. But I struggled to sit there and listen to him being so rude to you, and so convinced of his own methods!”
“I don’t think you’ve ruined anything, Penny. I’m sure he will still carry out the search. The man relies on people to pay his way on these expeditions.”
“In which case you’d think he would be more polite and considerate, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes, you would.”
“I don’t want him out there looking for Father, I really don’t. Ideally, I would go there myself, but I know that travel in such places is considered too dangerous for a woman.”
“And we would all forbid you, Penny. You couldn’t possibly put yourself at risk in such a way.”
“I cannot see it being anyone’s right to forbid me, but I know you, Eliza and James would nag me so much about any attempt to travel there that it would make life quite unbearable.”
Francis laughed. “It’s only because we care about you, Penny, besides which there is no cause for you to travel there. All you need do is find someone more trustworthy to carry out the search.”
“But who exactly? You’ve already mentioned that not many men would be willing to undertake the task.”
“Perhaps we simply need to ask around.”
“We must ensure that Eliza is happy pursuing someone else first. For some time now she has been quite convinced that Mr Fox-Stirling is the only chap for the job.”
“Perhaps
she’ll be happier to consider someone else after this evening’s altercation?”
“It’s possible, or perhaps she’ll blame me for riling him instead. I don’t think I can attend any more of these dinners; I really don’t like the man. You have every right to withdraw your funding for the search, you know. He had no cause to speak to you in that manner.”
“No, I want to ensure that the search goes ahead. That’s the most important thing. You’ve waited long enough for news of your father.”
“You don’t have to do this, Francis. Why are you donating your money?” I turned to look at him in the dim light.
“I have an inheritance which is merely accruing interest in the bank, and I have few outgoings and a regular income from my work. At the moment the money is surplus to my needs.”
“But there are many other good causes which would benefit from your money. I realise you have decided you may not need it, but there are plenty of worthy institutions that might, such as orphanages and hospitals for the poor.”
“I consider your father an admirable man, Penny, and I cannot be content knowing that you and Eliza have been unaware of his whereabouts for nine years now. I want to do whatever I can to help you find out what has happened to him, not least so that you can finish your book about his life.”
“It goes way above and beyond your duty, Francis.”
He turned to look at me, the light from the gas lamps flickering on the lenses of his spectacles. “I hold you in very high regard, Penny. Surely you must have realised that by now? You’re an honest and truthful woman, and I find you highly interesting and amusing. I enjoy your company.”
I held my breath, terrified that a proposal was forthcoming.
“I have never met anyone quite like you,” he continued, “though I think I may be rather foolish to hope that you might ever hold more than a passing interest in me.”
“It is more than a passing interest, Francis,” I said cautiously, wishing to reassure him, yet wary of encouraging him to think that I loved him.
“Really?” he asked.
“I consider you a very honourable man.”
“Just honourable?”
“And clever, too, with a wealth of knowledge on all manner of subjects, which is not only useful but entertaining.”
“Thank you.”
“And one day you will make someone a wonderful husband.”
“Someone?”
“Yes, someone.”
“Not you, Penny?”
My heart thudded heavily in my chest and I turned to look at the road ahead.
“Oh, Francis, you know that I have no intention of marrying.”
A long pause followed and my teeth clenched. Had I said the wrong thing? Was I a fool for being so dismissive of marriage when a man who could potentially become my husband was sitting right beside me at this very moment?
I felt the slightest mention that I might be interested in marrying would bring forth an immediate proposal. Up to this moment he had been carefully testing my reaction to see whether it was worth his while asking me. I appreciated the subtlety and sensitivity of his approach.
Perhaps if I had never met James I would have been encouraging Francis to propose, I mused. I knew that I had no hope of ever marrying James, but it would have been disingenuous to encourage Francis when I knew that it was James I loved.
“You deserve someone better than me,” I said.
“Nonsense, Penny!” said Francis. “In my eyes there is no finer lady than yourself.”
“Oh, don’t say that, it simply isn’t true!”
“But it is, and I won’t let you tell me otherwise. I cannot deny that I’m disappointed you have no interest in marriage. Is there anything that might change your mind?”
“I don’t know. The truth is that I like my life for what it already is. I may live in a garret room with my cat, but that suits me. I can’t imagine owning a large house filled with staff and children. My sister has all that, yet she seems to me to have no freedom. She strives for it, of course, with her work on women’s rights, and she turns heads when she rides her bicycle, but that’s all she can do. As the wife of a lawyer there are expectations and she simply has to conform. At the present time my lifestyle allows me great freedom.”
“But what happens twenty years from now when you may feel too old and tired to work? Perhaps you will be in need of companionship then. Would you not like children to look after you in your dotage?”
“That’s certainly not a reason to have children, Francis, though perhaps I am a little foolish for refusing to consider what my life will be like twenty years from now.”
“Milton Street!” the cabman shouted down into the cab through the hatch.
Francis sighed. “Perhaps you will change your mind in time, Penny. There’s no hurry, is there?”
“No, I don’t suppose there is.”
“I should be happy to wait,” he said.
I turned to face him in the gloom. “No, Francis, you mustn’t wait for me to decide whether I wish to marry or not! I’ve already told you there are better ladies than I —”
“I refuse to believe it. I’m in love with you, Penny! I have been in love with you since you first asked me to help with that map of Colombia in the reading room!”
Chapter 37
I stared at Francis’ shadowed face with no idea how to respond.
“I don’t expect you to love me in return,” he continued. “I may as well try to influence the passage of the stars. But I suspect that my affection is no secret to you, so you must surely have had some time to consider your feelings for me.”
“A little,” I replied. I sat there motionless, my mouth dry.
“I must admit that I thought all was lost when I saw Blakely dishonouring you in the hallway of your sister’s home. I could protect you from such advances, Penny. That man will break the heart of his wife and yours as well if you allowed him to.”
“I’m sure he wouldn’t —”
“There’s no need to defend him, Penny. While I respect his willingness to apologise for his misdemeanour he is clearly reckless when it comes to women’s hearts. I’m not like that, but I shan’t make a fool of myself and propose unless I can be sure that you love me in return. I’m encouraged, however, that you think me honourable, and that I might make someone a good husband one day.”
“Yes, I feel sure that you would.”
There was a pause, as if he were waiting for me to say more. Perhaps he hoped for an expression of affection in return. I felt a strong pang of guilt that I was unable to give him any sort of assurance.
Francis sighed. “I suppose we’ve really only known each other for a short while, haven’t we? Perhaps I have been rather too hasty in expressing my affections, and I realise that it may be inappropriate to do so, sitting shoulder to shoulder and unaccompanied in this cab. It’s not really the way I like to conduct myself. The very last thing I should want you to think of me, Penny, is that I’m taking advantage of this time alone with you.”
“Oh no, Francis, I would never think that.”
The hatch in the roof opened again and the cabman shouted down through it.
“You gettin’ out ’ere or what? Am I goin’ ter be sittin’ ’ere all night waitin’ for you lovebirds ter finish with yer kissin’ an’ cuddlin’?”
“Just one moment, please,” said Francis tersely.
The hatch slammed shut again.
“I must admit that I feel rather unguarded now that I have expressed my true feelings for you, Penny,” he said. “In fact, I feel rather foolish.”
“No, you mustn’t!” I replied. “Please don’t feel foolish! I feel that your words have been extremely complimentary, and I am deeply flattered by the warmth of your affection.”
“Perhaps now that I have told you how I feel this will lead to further consideration on your part. Maybe my words will have altered your thoughts on the matter just a touch. For some reason, and I know not what it might be, I felt i
t appropriate to speak this evening. Perhaps I shall regret my actions in the morning.”
“I wouldn’t want you to regret it, Francis; there really is no need.” I wished I could tell him what he wanted to hear in order to ease his discomfort, but I had too much respect for him to give any false hope.
“Please excuse me, Penny, I have talked long enough. Although I could continue I don’t feel that I can add any deeper meaning to my sentiment, so I shall stop there. My work is done. Sic vita est.”
“What does that mean?”
“Thus is life.”
“How profound,” I replied.
“Then perhaps I should say quidquid latine dictum sit, altum videtur.”
“And what does that mean?”
“Anything said in Latin sounds profound.”
“That’s the meaning?” I said, laughing. “I shall use that phrase myself.”
“You should, Penny. Good night.”
My mind was too busy to sleep that night.
Mr Edwards had caused quite a stir that evening: both at the dinner and then afterwards when he had accompanied me home in the cab. Although it had been obvious that he cared for me beforehand, I had still been surprised by his declaration of love. I searched my heart, willing to find some reciprocation deep down, but I could find none. Perhaps I was still too shocked. Perhaps if I slept I would wake in the morning and discover that I could love him in return.
It made no sense that I should love a man who was to marry someone else. I knew that I could never marry James; therefore, it made more sense to consider the man who was willing to become my husband. Should I make that choice or continue to live my life alone?
I also had concerns about the search for Father. What if Francis felt so upset about the way Mr Fox-Stirling had spoken to him that he withdrew his donation? He had assured me that he wouldn’t, but after a spot of reflection he had every right to do so. I felt angry at Fox-Stirling for being so rude. He did not deserve the money we were raising to pay him. I truly disliked him for his arrogance and sense of superiority.
