sir. The view of Sacre Coeur et Notre Dame along The Seine, all gaslit for the holidays. It will be quite lovely, indeed. I understand we shall be landing on L’esplanade des Invalides for an overnight stay. Perhaps we could land on Champ de Mars while it’s still possible.”
“Oh, Baron. Do you think we will see Champs Elysees from the air?”
“No doubt, my dear. No doubt! Yes, Le Champs-Elysees, another sight to see in the future. Another beautiful sight. Not to mention the scandalous Moulin Rouge. All yet to be seen, my dears.”
“Perhaps the good Mr. Blackwolf would make a special stop at Bedlum upon our return to London, Baron. Good evening, all. Please excuse us. Emily. Mrs. Rosengarten.” My voice softened for the last, of course, and not by mistake. “We shall see you all over Paris.”
“How rude.” Avalon chided when we had left earshot.
“Please, Avalon, time travel? The man was quite obviously daft.”
“There was still no need to be so impolite, Arthur. Really, what has gotten into you lately?”
The problem was the other way around, I hadn’t gotten into enough ladies lately. That would change quite soon. “Apologies, my dear. I’m quite sure I don’t know. Ah! Here is more wine, let us toast us. Always, my love. You and me together, forever.”
In the meantime, I looked forward to cornering Mrs. Rosengarten in some dark shadows on the dirigible. Yes, indeed.
CHAPTER FIVE
CONSTANCE
“Not here,” he said, disguising the words as a harsh cough belched from the side of his mouth as I approached him standing near the sculpted marble fireplace, talking with a group of men. The great W. D. McFerret, too good, or too afraid, rather, to be seen with me at this opulent gala, turned from me and laughed heartily, clamping his black cigarette holder between his teeth, which only served to accentuate his unfortunate jaw. The great coward squeezed his eye around his monocle and said, “Excuse me, gentlemen,” then joined in with a new group of revelers standing near the three tiered Christmas trees, each a perfect height to complement the other two, decorated with gold bows and red berries. Their opulence added to the overall splendor of the Pearson’s parlour. Teal walls with golden trim framed frescoes of frolicking cherubs which, in turn, echoed the ornate carvings in the marble mantle, topped with poinsettias and winter foliage.
As I made pleasantries with a few people standing near the great grandfather clock set in an alcove, William Daniel McFerret shot a petty glare in my direction for the slightest moment for daring to be in the same room as he before masking his face again in revelry and charm.
Yes. Fear. Since his wife was amongst the partygoers, somewhere. Poor woman, likely had no idea.
They rarely did.
I held my head up high, excused myself from the conversation, and returned to the ballroom, curtsying to the first kind-looking gentleman I saw. He promptly asked me to dance, and I accepted. After all, this was a ball, and I was in such a pretty green gown. The beads of my black choker matched the handiwork down the front, and my supposed lover couldn’t even look at me out of his cowardice. Nothing improper had happened with Willie yet, nothing like that, but he was certainly laying the groundwork with the intention of taking the title of lover soon enough. Absurd that he wouldn’t speak to me here. It only made him look more guilty, but then, he wasn’t as smart as he pretended to be.
They rarely were.
“Baron Vincent Von Rictus Baine,” the man with whom I danced introduced himself as he turned me with the music. Beethoven, I believed. My favorite.
“Miss Charlotte Sopha,” I said, introducing my current persona.
“Miss Sopha, thank you for doing me the honor of this dance.”
“It is my pleasure, Baron.” We spoke little as he spun me around the dance floor. A perfect gentleman. Not a single one of my internal warnings went off while dancing
“Oh, Baron. Do you think we will see Champs Elysees from the air?”
“No doubt, my dear. No doubt! Yes, Le Champs-Elysees, another sight to see in the future. Another beautiful sight. Not to mention the scandalous Moulin Rouge. All yet to be seen, my dears.”
“Perhaps the good Mr. Blackwolf would make a special stop at Bedlum upon our return to London, Baron. Good evening, all. Please excuse us. Emily. Mrs. Rosengarten.” My voice softened for the last, of course, and not by mistake. “We shall see you all over Paris.”
“How rude.” Avalon chided when we had left earshot.
“Please, Avalon, time travel? The man was quite obviously daft.”
“There was still no need to be so impolite, Arthur. Really, what has gotten into you lately?”
The problem was the other way around, I hadn’t gotten into enough ladies lately. That would change quite soon. “Apologies, my dear. I’m quite sure I don’t know. Ah! Here is more wine, let us toast us. Always, my love. You and me together, forever.”
In the meantime, I looked forward to cornering Mrs. Rosengarten in some dark shadows on the dirigible. Yes, indeed.
CHAPTER FIVE
CONSTANCE
“Not here,” he said, disguising the words as a harsh cough belched from the side of his mouth as I approached him standing near the sculpted marble fireplace, talking with a group of men. The great W. D. McFerret, too good, or too afraid, rather, to be seen with me at this opulent gala, turned from me and laughed heartily, clamping his black cigarette holder between his teeth, which only served to accentuate his unfortunate jaw. The great coward squeezed his eye around his monocle and said, “Excuse me, gentlemen,” then joined in with a new group of revelers standing near the three tiered Christmas trees, each a perfect height to complement the other two, decorated with gold bows and red berries. Their opulence added to the overall splendor of the Pearson’s parlour. Teal walls with golden trim framed frescoes of frolicking cherubs which, in turn, echoed the ornate carvings in the marble mantle, topped with poinsettias and winter foliage.
As I made pleasantries with a few people standing near the great grandfather clock set in an alcove, William Daniel McFerret shot a petty glare in my direction for the slightest moment for daring to be in the same room as he before masking his face again in revelry and charm.
Yes. Fear. Since his wife was amongst the partygoers, somewhere. Poor woman, likely had no idea.
They rarely did.
I held my head up high, excused myself from the conversation, and returned to the ballroom, curtsying to the first kind-looking gentleman I saw. He promptly asked me to dance, and I accepted. After all, this was a ball, and I was in such a pretty green gown. The beads of my black choker matched the handiwork down the front, and my supposed lover couldn’t even look at me out of his cowardice. Nothing improper had happened with Willie yet, nothing like that, but he was certainly laying the groundwork with the intention of taking the title of lover soon enough. Absurd that he wouldn’t speak to me here. It only made him look more guilty, but then, he wasn’t as smart as he pretended to be.
They rarely were.
“Baron Vincent Von Rictus Baine,” the man with whom I danced introduced himself as he turned me with the music. Beethoven, I believed. My favorite.
“Miss Charlotte Sopha,” I said, introducing my current persona.
“Miss Sopha, thank you for doing me the honor of this dance.”
“It is my pleasure, Baron.” We spoke little as he spun me around the dance floor. A perfect gentleman. Not a single one of my internal warnings went off while dancing
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