Romance at the Royal Menagerie

by Ruth J. Hartman

  Good riddance!

  Stepping forward, Francesca approached the cage. She raised one eyebrow and darted a glance toward Mr. Fairgate. “Hmm. Well, what do I see? Ah, yes. I believe those would be pockets.”

  Smirking, he stepped up next to her. “Come now, Miss—” His gaze drifted toward the kangaroos and his mouth hung open. “But that’s… they actually have…”

  Francesca laughed. “And you thought I was playing a game, did you?”

  Face turning a deep shade of pink, he shrugged. “I… well. Yes. I did.”

  “I was having sport with you, Mr. Fairgate, but not about the pockets. Aren’t they fascinating?”

  “Indeed. I can hardly believe what I’m seeing. Pockets. Do you suppose they carry their spare change in those?” His mirth faltered, however, when a tiny head peeked out from the top of one kangaroo’s pocket. “What…?”

  “That would be a joey, the name for their babies. Isn’t it sweet?”

  “But how did…?”

  “It’s amazing, to be sure, but the baby, while still tiny, finds its way from the mother’s…” She cleared her throat. ”…womb to the inside of the pocket. He finishes growing while he’s in there.”

  “Fascinating!”

  “It truly is. And I imagine that besides growing and nursing inside the pocket, the baby also stays in for warmth.”

  “But don’t kangaroos come from warmer climates?”

  “Yes, but the poor babies don’t grow any fur for several months. I would think they could get quite chilled.”

  “Perhaps we should buy him a tiny coat and hat.”

  “And very small boots?” She laughed.

  “Of course. “ He tilted his head. “It appears the mother’s front and back paws are quite differently sized.”

  She nodded. “I love kangaroos. They look so ungainly, yet when they hop they can cover quite a bit of ground in a short time.”

  “And that long tail? Does it have a purpose?”

  “It’s used for balance, like an extra leg, especially when the males box over a female.”

  “Box?”

  “It’s so entertaining to watch. You’d think the two were in the ring, throwing punches with their hind feet.”

  “Remind me not to step into that cage.”

  She grinned. “I’ll protect you, Mr. Fairgate.”

  He leaned closer. “Indeed I know it to be true. Since that leopard—”

  “Not any louder. No one must know.”

  “But I know. I will never forget. You were so brave.”

  “Not brave. The cats know they don’t have to fear me. They… understand me, I guess.” She shrugged.

  “It’s still quite a mystery to me, all of that.”

  “You know, it is to me, too. I know not how or why the cats trust me, they just do. And always have.”

  “And what of the other animals? Is it the same?”

  “They seem to all approve of my nearness. Not as much as the cats, of course. With the exception of the smelly bear. He esteems me not.” She frowned.

  “Perhaps he is miffed because you refer to his countenance as smelly?”

  She laughed. “Yes, I imagine that could be.”

  “Then you’ll have to stay out of that cage.”

  “I solemnly promise.”

  “I certainly hope you do. If not, I may one day need to rescue you.” He smiled, his full lips enticing. Inviting. Would they be soft against hers?

  She bit her lip, holding in a grin. “Thank you, kind sir. I feel safer knowing I can count on you to save me from the dastardly smelly bear.”

  Chapter Four

  Inside the kitchen of the small house Francesca shared with her father, she finished cleaning the dishes after their evening meal. Why had Papa been so kind to Mr. Fairgate? There had to be a reason. It wasn’t like him to go out of his way to show such courtesy to someone who by all appearances was wealthy. Anyone dressed as such put her father on edge, thinking perhaps they were titled.

  Francesca sighed. It pained her to see Papa still so angry about Mama leaving. Francesca was still hurt too, of course. But every year that passed eased the pain a little more. Some days, she couldn’t remember her mother’s voice. The image of her face blurred, the small details forgotten.

  Would her father one day find peace again? Joy? Still, she had to know why he’d suddenly changed his behavior toward Mr. Fairgate.

  “Good meal, Franny.”

  ”Thank you, Papa.” Usually they would both sit down after eating and spend the evening reading. But she remained standing.

  He glanced up, his thick eyebrows lowered. “Something the matter?”

  She twisted her hands together in front of her. “I wondered…”

  “What?”

  She cleared her throat. “I… well, you… surprised me today.”

  “Did I? How so?”

  “When you met Mr. Fairgate.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Usually, um, sometimes… when someone is wealthy…”

  He nodded. “Ah. I see where you’re headed. You want to know why I took the time to make Mr. Fairgate’s acquaintance?”

  Relieved to not have to say the words, she nodded and sat down at the table opposite him. “Yes. Why was this time… different?”

  He sighed. “Franny, I wouldn’t have gone to the trouble, but I’d had a disturbing conversation with the Keeper.”

  She gasped. They were always afraid Papa might lose his position. It was all they had to put food on the table and provide shelter by way of their little house. “Why?”

  “The care of the animals is getting more expensive. Some of our wealthy contributors have died this year and have not been replaced. The zoo needs to find people who are willing…”

  “Oh. I see.”

  “The Keeper told me I had to help things along, or I might…”

  “Lose your job.”

  “I’m afraid so, Franny. I have no choice, though I loathe having to do it.”

  “But you’ve always been so against people of wealth. And yet you seemed so pleased to meet him.”

  Sighing, he drummed his fingers on the hard tabletop. “I’ll admit it was not easy to be so polite, but after the Keeper had that talk with me, it seemed crucial that I do so. Besides, you’d assured me Mr. Fairgate was not titled. I saw no harm in it.”

  Biting her lip, Francesca swallowed hard. Yes, she had told Papa that very thing. But she didn’t know for sure. What if she were wrong? She frowned. “I understand why you were so engaging to Mr. Fairgate, then. But why did you suggest I show him the kangaroos? I don’t work there. I have no say in matters of finance.”

  “No, but since you had already made his acquaintance, I thought it might be helpful to cultivate a friendship with the man.”

  “Papa! You don’t mean that I should do anything improper?”

  “No, no. You know me better than that. But an innocent friendship would be fine. Just show him around the zoo. Answer any questions he may have. Perhaps the more acquainted with the animals he becomes, the more willing he might be to become a benefactor.” He chuckled. “And it does not do any harm that you are a pretty girl, Franny.” Reaching for his book on the other end of the table, he prepared to read for the evening.

  Francesca shook her head. He wished her to see more of Mr. Fairgate? Not that she minded, not a bit. But it shocked her to her toes that it was his suggestion. And Papa thought she was pretty? A smile passed across her lips. He’d never told her that. Could it be true?

  Did Mr. Fairgate also find her attractive? He’d called her beautiful, but that might only have been one of those meaningless compliments people said but did not mean. But might it actually be true?

  She reached for her own book and sat down to read. Maybe Papa would tire and go to bed early tonight. Then she could sneak in to the Tower of Lions and visit the cats. It would be wonderful to go every night, but she couldn’t. No, she had to take care not to do it too often. Than
k goodness it was a quick walk from their small house. Her dark cape and quick step through the shadows had always gotten her there without coming across anyone dangerous.

  She glanced at her father. His eyelids were halfway closed, his head falling forward a small bit toward his book. Francesca smiled.

  Tonight she could visit her friends.

  ****

  Francesca squinted against bright sunshine the next day at the Tower. Growls rose from Belle’s throat, her body rigid and muscles tense with impending motherhood. Francesca stood outside the cage, grasping the bars, longing to be inside with the leopard. Was the cat scared? In pain? Belle snarled, angling her head in the direction of her tail, which lashed against the dirt, creating a small grey cloud. Paws swiped at the air. Movement beneath the skin on her belly rippled the spotted fur, as a breeze would ripple the ocean. The cubs seemed ready to leave the warm confines of their mother’s womb.

  It was yet early in the day, and not many people, aside from the workers, had been to the Tower. She had been in Belle’s cage the previous night, but the leopard had shown no signs of giving birth yet. Francesca had visited all the cats, snuggling the tiger, scratching the lion’s chin and face, and it had been fun, but she’d not been needed then.

  If Belle had given birth to her cubs then, Francesca could have comforted her, stroking the cat’s head and ears, murmuring soft comforting phrases. Seeing the cubs up close as soon as they were born. What would it feel like to have another life inside her own body? Soft fluttering of a new being, knowing that soon, so soon, the baby would be there, out in the world?

  Would Francesca ever find out? Would she ever marry? She’d never been courted. So far, the only men who’d seemed interested were Tower workers. Not that she would turn down someone for that reason. She had the utmost respect for her father’s work, and that of other workers. But the only face she saw when she closed her eyes at night was Mr. Fairgate’s. Her dreams were of him. His handsome face. Kind voice. Their mutual interest in the large cats. Would there ever be a chance he might feel the same for her?

  No, that was unlikely. It wouldn’t do for a daughter of a lowly Tower worker to be matched with a handsome and, by all appearances, wealthy man such as Mr. Fairgate. London society would not stand for it. Not that Francesca had much to do with that sect, but surely Mr. Fairgate did. He seemed so far above her, almost in a different world.

  “Good morning, Miss Hartwell.”

  Gasping, Francesca darted a glance to her left. It was as if her thoughts of him brought him to this very spot. “Mr. Fairgate.” Heart pounding against her ribs, she clapped her hand to her chest.

  “It seems I’m always startling you with my appearance. Surely I’m not so hideous to behold?” One corner of his mouth rose. The resulting dimple on his cheek begged to be touched.

  Laughter bubbled up from Francesca’s throat. She shook her head. “Not in the least. You’re certainly the opposite of—” Heat traveled up her neck and face. Why did she speak those words? To him? She glanced back toward the leopard’s cage, desperate for a change in subject.

  A deep chuckle came from Mr. Fairgate. Still Francesca could not bring herself to turn in his direction. Oh, what must he think of her? Her traitorous lips needed a scolding. She pointed toward Belle’s cage. “You’re here just in time.”

  “In time for…?”

  “Belle. She’s having her cubs.” She darted a glance toward him.

  He widened his eyes. “At this moment?”

  “It seems so. Look closely. At her… belly.” References to the cat’s anatomy stirred warmth in Francesca’s body. Warmth flowed to her own belly, radiating down to her toes. Why could she not abstain from saying embarrassing words to the man?

  Stiff fabric from his coat brushed her sleeve as he leaned closer to the cage. “Why, yes. I do see something… So would that be…?”

  Was Mr. Fairgate having issues speaking of the same thing? “Yes. Her cubs seem ready to… make an appearance.”

  Seconds ticked by. Belle snarled and growled. Francesca bit her lip. Poor Belle. She must be in such pain. Was this the cat’s first time being a mother? They had no way of knowing what her life had been like before. And Belle couldn’t tell them, of course.

  Soft, steady breathing from Mr. Fairgate comforted Francesca. How marvelous to share this miracle with him. There seemed no need for further words. Such a gift, to witness God’s handiwork in action. And to think, they were the only two people on earth to witness this particular sight at this particular moment, as no one else was close by. A memory they could both have. And maybe share in the future?

  Belle growled again and panted. Baring her teeth, she twitched her whiskers as she closed her eyes. Slowly, something dark emerged from beneath her tail, the body small, wet, and squirming. Francesca’s left hand flew to her mouth, spellbound, even though she’d seen similar events before. The miracle of birth never ceased to amaze her. “Oh, my.”

  “Indeed.”

  As one, she and Mr. Fairgate leaned forward, their faces quite close to the bars. Francesca let out quick breaths, panting along with the cat. Pah. Pah. Pah. Wait. What am I doing? Next to Mr. Fairgate? By the end of the visit he’d surely think her daft. Clamping her lips closed, she willed her tongue to stay silent.

  Plaintive mews, so soft that Francesca had to strain to make them out, floated up from beneath Belle, who twisted back to reach her first baby. Her pink tongue washed the cub for several seconds until a second cub appeared. Again, Belle bathed the new life until a third cub came. Belle then turned her back and Francesca couldn’t see if there was a fourth cub born or not. How many cubs were there? If only Francesca could go into the cage! Frustrated, she balled her hand into a fist, pushing away the image of caressing the mother cat’s face. Murmuring soft words to calm her fear.

  She was the only one the cats truly seemed to trust, yet she was stuck on the other side of the bars from where she needed to be.

  “Are you not amazed at the sight?”

  Something brushed against her hand. Startled by the words and touch, she glanced down. Mr. Fairgate was holding her hand.

  Her hand.

  She widened her eyes and gasped. Heat radiated up her arm. Her palm perspired. Would he notice? His long fingers curled around hers, cocooning them in safety. A brief promise of friendship and trust. If only they could remain that way. If only—

  Disappointment cloaked her as he released her hand. Cool air played over her skin, replacing the warmth. It had only lasted a few seconds, but the memory was burned into her mind. Later, when she was alone, she’d cherish the heat of his skin, the slight tightening of his fingers just before he’d released her hand, as if he’d wanted to give her a light squeeze to assure her he cared.

  Turning his head away, Mr. Fairgate’s neck reddened. “Please, pardon me… I…”

  When she’d gasped, had he taken it as a rebuff for his actions? Oh, if he only knew it was quite the opposite. “No. I… There’s no harm done. It just… you see… I was…” Blast. Why could she never find the right words when she needed them? She’d lost the ability to form a complete sentence. In his presence she became a bumbling idiot, obtuse phrases slipping past her lips at the most inopportune times.

  Her stupid, stupid lips.

  He angled back toward her, raising the corners of his mouth, his full lips just begging to be kissed. Francesca licked her lips, fingers itching to run through his dark, thick hair. Staring at his mouth, she nearly missed what he was saying.

  “I’m glad you haven’t taken offense, Miss Hartwell. I realize it was rather brash of me.” He looked toward Belle. “But I was overcome with wonder. Delight. At what we were seeing. Nearly robbing me of words.”

  She touched his sleeve briefly. “I understand. I do. It’s such a miracle, isn’t it?”

  “It is. I’m honored to have been here to share it. With you.”

  His words caressed her, warmed her, nearly as much as the touch of his hand. “Than
k you. And I as well, with you.”

  His eyes, dark as the night with a fringe of long lashes, peered into hers. But only a quick look, then he angled his glance toward the cage.

  No. Wait. Don’t look away yet…

  “What will happen now? With the cubs?”

  Francesca swallowed down the disappointment. The moment had ended too soon. Would there ever be another one? Would he ever be so bold as to touch her hand again? “If Belle takes to being a mother, she’ll clean the cubs, sniff them all over, and then let them feed. If not…”

  “If not?”

  “There are times when an animal, for whatever reason, does not want her babies. She’ll push them away and refuse to care for them. If that were to happen, the zoo workers would need to take them away from her and hand-feed all the cubs. I’ve seen it happen, but it’s not the mother’s normal response. Thankfully. Most often, they take to motherhood through instinct.”

  The leopard turned her head toward the pile of mewing fur by her back end. Her tail curled around her babies, fashioning a small, safe enclosure. Francesca squinted. How many cubs had been born? It was difficult to tell from here. She’d have to wait until her father or one of the workers went in today to check.

  Or tonight, when I can come back alone…

  The mews intensified as Belle’s pink tongue roughed up the babies’ spotted fur. Such cute little cats, tiny replicas of their momma. Francesca bit her lip, holding in a grin. It would be quite the experience for the cubs when their mother’s large rough tongue dampened their eyes, noses, and mouths, all in one swipe. As if bathed with a giant, coarse sponge.

  Sniff. Sniff. Belle snuffled every inch of each cub. Face, paws, ears, tails. Francesca squinted again. “I wish I could see how many… It’s hard to tell. Maybe three?”

  Mr. Fairgate leaned in. “Hmm. They still seem to be in a small mass all together, but I believe I count…” He tilted his head. “Four tiny tails.”