“Ye should have called fer me,” the housekeeper scolded. “I was jest helpin’ yer brother get himself ready fer the mornin’ meal.”
Lucy, ever present for as long as Valerie could remember, always came to her rescue. The petite older woman buttoned the cuffs of the dress then stopped.
“What’s this all about?” She nodded toward a stiff pile of fabric on the floor. “It best not be what I’m thinkin’ it is,” the older lady warned.
Valerie’s eyes met the housekeeper’s in the mirror. “You’ll not lecture me today, Lucy. I’ve had quite enough of those contraptions.” Valerie glared at the heavy, whale-boned corset. “I am certain a man invented those bloody things. A woman would never think of putting herself into something like that. Why, I wouldn’t be a bit surprised to discover it was used as some sort of medieval torture device.”
Lucy gasped, her finely lined skin paling. “Miss Valerie! Yer language!” She drew herself up and wagged a bony finger in Valerie’s face. “I won’t have ye talkin’ like that, I won’t! Why, I’ve raised ye since ye were but a wee babe and never thought I’d live to hear such an outrageous thing.”
Valerie raised a hand in surrender. “Forgive me, Lucy. I apologize for my language.”
Lucy raised an eyebrow.
Valerie squirmed under the scrutiny, though her eyes sparkled with amusement. It wasn’t the first time she’d been scolded by the older woman and likely not the last. “But I still won’t wear it.” Valerie stuck out her bottom lip.
“It’s just not proper,” Lucy muttered as her aged but still deft hands looped each tiny button marching up the back of the Valerie’s dress. “Not proper at all not to wear yer corset. What’s to become of the world if young girls quit wearin’ under things? I’ll be havin’ a talk with yer mum, I will.” She finished fastening the dress and took a step back. “There, now. Ye’re as pretty as a picture.”
“Thank you, Lucy.” Valerie leaned on her cane, considering the image she presented in the mirror. Pity she hadn’t been born a man. Walking sticks were all the rage right now and she’d fit right in. She turned around. “Of course, you’re right, Lucy.” Her eyes filled with humor. “What ever could I have been thinking?”
“Gather ‘round, family. Gather ‘round,” Frederick Brooks instructed as he summoned everyone to their places. He stood at the head of the table—one hand tucked into his weskit pocket while the other tapped on his crystal water glass with a small silver butter knife. He watched with pride as they seated themselves. Jacqueline to his left, Valerie to his right and Reggie at the opposite end of the long narrow table. Such a fine family indeed. An adoring wife, a healthy son to carry on the family name, and a daughter who was as intelligent as she was beautiful. He drew himself up and cleared his throat, running a finger along the stiff celluloid collar.
What’s this?
His fine family continued to chatter around him. Why, they weren’t paying him the least bit of attention. Well, this wouldn’t do. No, it would not. Frederick cleared his throat again, only louder this time. He tugged at his suit jacket anxiously.
This wasn’t going at all according to plan. Not at all. His family was supposed to be transfixed by his presence, in awe of the head of the household. At least, that’s what all the gentlemen’s journals said.
Frederick cleared his throat a third and final time. “See here, all of you. I would like your attention. That is, I demand your attention.”
Jacqueline patted his hand where it rested on the edge of the table and smiled benignly. “Why don’t you sit down, Freddie? Your tea is getting cold.”
“What is it, Papa?” Valerie said. “Mama said earlier you had something you wanted to discuss.”
“Yes, Papa,” Reggie chimed in. “Why haven’t you told us yet?”
Frederick rolled his eyes and pulled a neatly folded sheet of paper out of his inside pocket. Unfolding it, he held it up. It was a boarding notice for the Fast Alice. A clipper ship currently docked on the Thames River, it would be sailing for China in less than a week.
“Are we going to China, Papa?” Valerie whispered.
“China?!” Reggie hooted and jumped out of his chair. “Please say we’re going to China, Papa! I want to see me a real live panda bear!”
“China, Frederick?” Jacqueline asked, her eyes widening. “Is this the surprise?” Her hand flew to her chest.
“No, no. You’ve got it all wrong.” Frederick took a deep breath then let it out. “No one said anything about China. Did you hear me mention the word at all?”
“Well, no, Papa. But you did tell us you had an important announcement and then you pulled out that sheet of paper,” Valerie ventured. “And it is a boarding notice for China.”
“Indeed, I did hold up this very piece of paper. However, we are not going to China.” He sat on his chair, unfolded a linen napkin, laid it on his lap, and looked around the table. “We are going to Italy.”
“Italy?” Jacqueline rubbed her forehead. “This is all too confusing, Frederick. Please, just tell us exactly what you have in mind.”
Frederick scanned the faces around him. “As you all are aware, I have several important clients at the bank. One of them in particular, Sir David Smythe, has various vested interests outside of England. He would like the bank’s support to pursue those interests. In order to do this, I need to investigate his proposal to determine whether or not I should grant him a loan.”
“Yes, dear, but what does this have to do with Italy?”
“Smythe’s latest interest is archeology. Seems he’d like to help finance the excavations at Pompeii. News of it has been in all the papers lately.” He took a bite of his sweet roll, glanced at Valerie, and winked. “Surely you’ve heard of it.”
Pompeii!
Oh, Papa was teasing her. Of course, he knew she had heard of it, even before Master Hobbs had taught them ancient history. Pompeii… Just the word itself conjured up images of elegantly robed men and women strolling ancient streets lined with fluted columns; a forum marketplace filled with vendors of sundry items; the gods and goddesses of Rome sitting high on Mount Olympus as they played games with the fates of mere mortals.
“Pompeii,” Valerie breathed. Most of her studies had been directed toward the antiquities, but to get a chance to actually visit the site of one of the places she’d only read about would be a dream come true. She smiled at her father. “You’re playing with me, Papa.”
Reggie cleared his throat and declared, “I don’t want to go to Italy or this Pompy place. If I can’t see a panda bear, I’d rather spend summer at Grandmother’s village, like we always do.”
Valerie’s eyes widened, and she chewed her bottom lip, worried that Reggie’s comment would make their father change his mind.
After what seemed an eternity, Frederick spoke. “No, Reggie, we won’t be visiting Grandmother this summer. Smythe’s business is much too important to ignore. He owns a clipper ship and has already made arrangements for it to make a detour to the Bay of Naples for us.”
“You know the ocean makes me nervous, Freddie,” Jaqueline said, fidgeting with the edge of the white linen tablecloth.
He reached for her hand. “I have every confidence you’ll do just fine, dear. As a matter of fact, I’m certain you’ll all make fine sailors.” Frederick regarded Valerie. “You’ve been much too quiet about all of this, my dear. I’d have thought you’d have plenty to say on the subject, given your interests.”
Valerie opened her mouth, then closed it as tears pricked her eyes. To be presented with this opportunity was the greatest gift her father could have ever given her.
She stood and, using the chairs around the table for support, made her way to her father. Reaching him, she threw her arms around his neck. “Thank you so much, Papa. I can’t wait to leave!”
Chapter 3
“Is this really necessary, Mam
a?” Valerie winced as the seamstress missed the fabric of the dress and poked her instead.
“Well of course it is, dear. We can’t arrive in Italy in last season’s clothing, now can we?” Jacqueline took a step backward and admired the fine picture her daughter presented. The gown’s apricot satin complemented Valerie’s fair complexion, while the cut nipped in at the waist and billowed out, drawing attention to the young woman’s slender curves, “Besides, we’re fortunate this shop offers ready-made gowns—given your father’s short notice, we would have never made it in time, if we’d ordered custom-made.”
Jacqueline pulled a bolt of lace down from the trimmings shelf as she went on. “Here now, don’t forget to add this to the cuffs. It’s just the touch this dress needs,” Jacqueline told the shopkeeper.
“Yes, mum.” The woman curtsied and took the creamy, tatted fabric. “I’ll make sure Susie doesn’t forget to sew it on the dress.” She tucked it into a large willow basket filled with mother-of-pearl buttons, silver and gold thread, and crocheted gloves Jacqueline had already selected for alterations.
“Might I say, mum, your daughter is the picture of loveliness.” She frowned and lowered her voice. “Pity about her leg though, isn’t it? Was she born that way?”
Valerie stiffened. Jacqueline’s eyes caught hers in the mirror’s reflection. Jacqueline wished she could take away the pain in her daughter’s eyes each time someone made a so-called well-meaning remark.
Jacqueline had blamed herself for the accident, all those years ago. Valerie was only six years old when it happened and the ‘if onlys’ haunted her for years. If only she hadn’t taken Valerie to the shop that day. If only she hadn’t stopped to chat with another young mother. If only the group of giggling young women hadn’t come in and left the door open. If only her daughter hadn’t dashed out. If only the carriage hadn’t rumbled by… The doctors said Valerie would never walk again, but her daughter was brave as well as stubborn and walk she did.
“My daughter was involved in an accident. But she gets along just fine, thank you.” She picked up a soft yellow dress made of finely woven cotton from where it lay on a side chair.
“What do you think about this one, Valerie?” she asked.
“It’ll be fine, Mama,” Valerie said with a smile.
Jacqueline smiled back at her daughter, her beautiful and brave daughter. “Very well,” Jacqueline said softly. She turned to the shopkeeper. “We’ll take these two as well as the green damask and the dark red one as well.”
The shopkeeper curtsied again. “Yes, mum. How soon did you say you’d need these to be ready?”
“No later than Saturday.” Jacqueline put on her bonnet and tied the ribbons in a neat side bow. “Do you think you can have them in time? We’ll be leaving for Italy on Sunday.”
The woman drew herself up and smiled broadly. “Why, I’ll have them to you on Friday if you’ll tell your friends about me.”
“It’s almost tea time,” Valerie said. “What do you say we stop at Rennie’s and have a cup?” She gestured toward the wood and leaded glass entry next to the dress shop.
But before Jacqueline could reply, Valerie steered her through the door of the teashop and to a table near the front window.
“My goodness, Val, let me catch my breath!” Jacqueline chuckled.
“I’m sorry, Mama. You looked like you might say no.” Valerie sighed. “I just needed a moment to collect myself and thought this would be the perfect place.”
“My darling, I am sorry about the dressmaker.” Jacqueline patted Valerie’s hand.
“It’s all right, Mama.” She plucked at the table cloth and glanced around the room. Sitting down she was like everyone else. Almost all of the small round tables were filled with patrons. Mauve cabbage roses decorated the golden-fringed tablecloths. Watercolor pastorals hung in groupings on the wall. Their gilded frames reflected the light from the candles on each table, lending the room a warm, welcoming glow.
They ordered tea and cakes. Jacqueline poured each of them a cup and Valerie took a sip of the strong brew. It was good and hot and warmed her insides.
She gazed out the window at the passersby, bustling down the street. No need for a cane. No hint of a limp.
She sighed and shook off her melancholy. She wouldn’t trade places with any of those people. In a few days’ time she would be on a ship, bound for Italy…
“Tell your future, young miss?”
Shaken out of her reverie, Valerie glanced up. An old gypsy fortune teller was standing beside their table. Though Valerie had seen her in Rennie’s, reading for other patrons, the woman had never approached her. She stood quietly with a smile on her weathered face, fingering the beaded fringe of her bright red shawl.
“No, thank you,” Jacqueline said in a firm tone.
Valerie leaned across the table. “Please, Mama. It’ll be fun.”
“You’ve been reading too many of those novels. They have filled your head with silly notions.”
“Please… Just this once, Mama?”
Jacqueline nodded. “All right, if it means that much to you.”
The old woman’s face creased into a broad smile as she pulled a chair to their table and settled between Valerie and her mother. At Valerie’s nod, the gnarled hands reached for the teacup. The gypsy swirled the contents around and around and then poured them back into the pot. Jacqueline grimaced, but the old lady ignored her, peering into the bottom of the cup. “Look there!” she exclaimed.
Valerie leaned closer and frowned as she studied the residue. “All I see are some tea leaves.”
“It’s not just tea leaves, miss. It’s the way they’re arranged in the cup that’s important.”
“Really? Tell me what it says.”
“I see a ship. You’ll be takin’ a journey soon.”
“How did you know that?” Valerie asked, her eyes wide.
“I wouldn’t be much of a fortune teller if I didn’t know such things, would I?” The gypsy nodded, making her large gold hoop earrings bob up and down. The woman’s earlobes were stretched beyond repair by the heavy jewelry and Valerie feared they’d break through the thin layer of skin holding them in place.
“Hmmm. Well now. This is good. I also see a heart—the symbol of love.” She winked at Valerie. “Ah, but there’s something else…”
“What else do you see?” A shiver ran up Valerie’s spine.
“There’s a lightning bolt—here—runnin’ through the heart. It means a love that’ll break your heart.” The gypsy looked up, her coal-black eyes filled with sadness. “I’m sorry, little one.”
Valerie leaned back in her chair, considering what the woman had just said.
A love that will break my heart—?
At least there would be a love. “Can you tell me more?”
“Aye, well… ‘tis strange indeed… Somethin’ I heard of, but never seen myself.” The gypsy tilted the cup for Valerie to see. “See that line going through the ship?” Her gnarled finger pointed to the symbol and Valerie nodded. “There’s more than one journey in store for you, child. A crossin’ of some great chasm.” She shook her head. “Like I said, I never seen nothin’ like it before. Only heard stories from fortune tellers long dead now.”
“Is there anything else about love?” Valerie asked, more intrigued by that prospect than another voyage.
The gypsy put the cup down. “I see nothin’ more today.” She reached for Valerie’s hand, clutching it. “Be careful and may the gods keep you safe.”
Unnerved by the gypsy’s abrupt warning, and tight grip, Valerie withdrew her hand. “Thank you for the reading, ma’am.”
Jacqueline laid a shilling down on the table. “I believe that will be all.”
The old woman picked up the coin and turned it over and over in her palm, the metal gleaming from the flickering candlelight. “D
o ye wish to know what the leaves say for you, dear lady?” she asked.
“Thank you, but no. I already know what the fates hold for me. You see, I’m married and have a wonderful family.” She reached across the table and squeezed Valerie’s hand. “I’ve realized my dreams. It’s now my daughter’s turn to realize hers.”
Chapter 4
Valerie stood in awe as the early morning mist began to dissipate along the banks of the Thames. Her breath caught at the sight of the Fast Alice, sunlight gilding the entire ship in a golden glow.
Crew members were scaling the masts and rigging as they hoisted the billowing white sails.
Here is the chariot that will transport us to Pompeii…
Valerie made her way up the gangplank, gripping the thick rope handrail for support and being careful not to catch the tip of her cane in one of the gaps between the weathered boards.
“Valerie!” Reggie ran up beside her.
“Do you always have to scream when you talk, Reg?” Valerie asked. “You scared me half to death.”
“No one listens to me if I don’t,” he reasoned.
“Trust me, we’ll listen just as well, if not better.”
“Well, I’ll think about it.” He skipped along beside Valerie and the walkway listed first to the right, then to the left. “We are going to have the most wonderful adventure, aren’t we?”
“I certainly hope so. Please, stop shaking the walk. You’ll send me tumbling head first into the Thames for certain.”
“I’m sorry, Val,” Reggie said as he slowed down. “Tell me, do you think the volcano—what’s its name? Suvio?—will interrupt while we’re visiting?”
Valerie laughed. “First of all, it’s called Vesuvius. And second, it hasn’t erupted since 1794. So, I think we’ll be quite safe.”
“Welcome aboard, Miss.” The captain stood at the ship’s rail and bowed low, his neatly combed and parted gray beard touching his chest. “It’s a pleasure to have you aboard my Alice. I’m Captain James Marcus.” He held out his hand and assisted Valerie onto the deck, Reggie scrambling up behind her. “Johnny—he’s the steward here—he’ll show you and your family to your cabins.” He gestured to the small, bird-like man with salt-and-pepper hair to his right, then extended his hand to assist Jacqueline and Frederick as well.
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