That Inevitable Victorian Thing

by E. K. Johnston

  “Of course, Edith,” Margaret said, before Elizabeth could protest. “You know they like to hear from you.”

  Before Margaret’s trip to Canada had sealed her friendship with Elizabeth, their younger sisters had had much more success in upholding their fathers’ wishes that the two households remain united.

  It turned out to be a very good thing that Edith joined her in messaging her sisters. Margaret spent most of her recollections thinking about Helena Marcus. She wondered at the other girl’s bravery. Yes, Margaret had crossed an ocean and was living under an assumed name, but this was Helena’s real life. She had been plucked out of New London, placed in an entirely different circle of society than she was used to, and made a curtsey to the Queen. Margaret wasn’t certain that she would do so well under the same circumstances. This was, after all, an adventure for her, and when she went home to England, Margaret Sandwich would disappear. Even the –chip her father had got for her wasn’t permanent.

  Margaret decided then and there that she would spare no effort in getting to know as much about Helena as she could in the coming days. Elizabeth wouldn’t mind being left to her own devices, especially if her sport fisherman did come to visit. She and Helena were both in a similar position, after all, in that neither of them were using their debuts to determine their future prospects: Margaret’s would be arranged soon enough, and Helena had her August. That, Margaret realized, would be her opening. She would appeal to Helena’s common sense, and if that were not enough to start a conversation that would lead to closer companionship, well, Margaret was going to be Queen of the Empire someday. She would just have to think of something else.

  AT A breakfast table across the city, August watched as his sister activated the –gram from Elizabeth Highcastle, sent with apologies that Miss Sandwich had misplaced her own reply cards in her travels. She read quickly and then aloud to her brother.

  When Sally appeared from the kitchen on the pretext of checking the table, Evie said, “Is it too late to add currants to the scones?”

  “It is certainly not too late,” Sally replied, putting on a show of wounded professional pride. “Am I to know why?”

  “Apparently, we’re going to do this in style,” Evie said, giving her brother a devilish wink.

  Though he knew Evie’s plunge into social engagements was for Helena’s benefit and enjoyment, August couldn’t stop the cold feeling that knotted itself up in his stomach. He stared regretfully at the fresh plate of toast Sally had brought. He knew it was especially for him, but suddenly his appetite was gone.

  It has become apparent that the American colonies will not be able to maintain their consolidation for very much longer. Though it initially appeared that even without Washington to hold them to a single course, they would manage, they are simply pulled in too many directions. The general failure of their attempted incursion onto British soil in Upper and Lower Canada further turned them on one another, and neither Madison nor Munroe had the strength of will or character to hold the States together, particularly once the successful revolts in the Caribbean crept into the former American South. Their continued dissolution while Your Majesty reigns must be anticipated and dealt with accordingly.

  —a military report to the newly crowned Queen Victoria I, prepared by William, Lord Melbourne, serving as Prime Minister of the UK in 1837

  CHAPTER

  10

  August had no idea how the success of such things was measured, but he was fairly certain that his sister had done exceedingly well in her efforts. The tea she hosted was small, but that leant an intimacy that August felt the girls rather appreciated after the grand spectacle of the previous evening. Even Helena’s Aunt Theresa appeared to enjoy herself, discussing, for reasons August couldn’t fathom, the vagaries of competitive trout fishing with Elizabeth and Evie, while Lady Highcastle watched in amusement. Margaret and Helena conversed quietly in the window seat, their knees almost touching as they leaned in. Helena did not make friends particularly quickly, and it made August glad to see her sure in her confidences so immediately.

  The Admiral had been unable to join his wife and daughter, for which August was profoundly grateful, though it meant he spent the afternoon on the fringe of every conversation in the room because the subjects were not generally his strengths. Had Highcastle attended, they would presumably have spoken of trade, which would have meant speaking of the waterways and the increase in American piracy. This was a topic that August, given his currently complicated circumstances, had been desperately trying to avoid, particularly with someone as startlingly official as the Fleet Admiral of the Royal Canadian Navy. He was simply not yet ready to ask for help, and didn’t trust himself to remain poker-faced if the subject was brought up by someone else. He was quite happy to be a gracious host and ensure that the tea remained hot and the tea plate never dwindled beyond polite scarcity. The girls could certainly manage the conversation.

  “Do you need rescuing, then?” asked Hiram, when August made a trip down to the kitchen for one such replenishment.

  “Don’t be silly.” This from Sally, the oldest of Hiram’s sisters, who ruled the townhouse kitchen like it was the Empire and she the Queen. She loaded on more scones, and then, after some consideration, put a new pot of tea on the tray as well, along with some sandwiches so delicate that August thought he might have to eat three dozen of them to be full. She was clearly having the time of her life.

  “Indeed,” August said. “I might take it on my head to order you to carry the tray.”

  Hiram did not reply, and August wondered whether he had overstepped. Hiram could do all but the most delicate of work with his prosthetic, and everyone knew it. Moreover, he practiced constantly, growing increasingly sure as he relearned his limitations. It was the main reason his sisters tolerated him in the kitchen as often as they did, rather than banishing him for filching so many sweets.

  August had been in his second season as an axe man—a doubly inaccurate term given the number of women on the job and advancements in tree-cutting technology—on a Callaghan lumber crew when the accident happened. He would never forget the whiteness of Hiram’s face afterwards, nor how quiet the kitchen had been when he’d gone down to tell the girls not to worry about their brother. Hiram had been the one to get them jobs in the Callaghan household in the first place, the year before when he and August had met, and though he never said as much to August about it, August got the distinct impression that their previous place of employment had been far from congenial. Hiram’s sisters feared that Hiram would lose his job, and then they would follow him at quickmarch out the door, back to Bathurst and St. Clair in Toronto.

  August was determined to assure them that his father never let a man go as could do work, and August, officially Hiram’s employer despite his working as far from an office as was conceivable in order to learn the ropes from men like Hiram himself, had every intention of living up to his father’s high standard. For all his good intentions, August never knew how far he could push the subject of Hiram’s rehabilitation therapy, and Hiram’s clear preference for privacy made him reluctant to ask. Every now and then, this meant August said something he regretted, and he just had to eat it, because Hiram also avoided any avenues of apology. He liked to think those occurrences were becoming less frequent, but as he made his way back upstairs with the refilled tray, he promised, once again, to increase his efforts.

  Hearing the laughter coming from the sitting room, August took a moment to make sure he looked the proper host again, and pushed the door open with his shoulder, carefully balancing the weight of the tray as he moved.

  “August, you must settle a bet,” cried Evie, as soon as he had relieved himself of the tray.

  “Oh, I must?” He passed Helena the sort of scone she favoured before handing the plate to Margaret, so that she could choose for herself.

  “I was telling Miss Highcastle about the rope you and Hel
ena used to jump off of into the lake by her family cottage,” Evie said. “They simply do not believe that Helena can fly.”

  Helena smiled at him, and took a bite of scone. Beside her, Margaret was nearly overcome with giggles.

  “I must confess it is the truth,” August said. “Helena is entirely fearless when it comes to great heights and cold water.”

  “Doesn’t the water heat up a little bit by the end of the summer?” Margaret asked.

  “Why do you think I am so keen on the Bahamas?” Elizabeth asked, and everyone laughed again.

  “I must say, I am quite impressed with all of your common sense.” This was from Helena’s aunt, and it had the effect of quieting the room. “When my niece fell in with your company at the ball, I was a little worried you might turn her head. Not that she is easily influenced, of course, only that this time is so exciting for everyone. Yet I see, Miss Highcastle, that both you and your cousin are adventurous and level-headed young ladies, and I am so glad that you have taken Helena under your wing.”

  “Did I miss something?” August said quietly to Helena. She leaned away from Margaret to speak to him.

  “Lady Highcastle has said that I am to come with Elizabeth and Margaret to any of the events I wish to attend,” Helena said. “Theoretically, this will mean that Aunt Theresa won’t have quite so many late nights, though I imagine she was more excited about that prospect than I was.”

  “That’s wonderful,” August said. “Though I hope you’re not going to delay coming up to the cottage for too long?”

  “I shouldn’t think so,” Helena said, and smiled. “Most of the excitement will be over by Victoria Day, and we can go up north as we planned.”

  If Lady Highcastle hadn’t been in the room, he might have kissed her hand. He settled for winking at her, and knew by the way her eyes lit up that she understood.

  There was a general shuffle as the ladies rearranged themselves for conversation, and August found himself seated next to Helena’s aunt. He knew that she was Helena’s chaperone for the season, and he knew also that her good impression of him would go a long way. It helped, he hoped, that she had not known him as a child, when he was as likely to encourage Helena to mischief as anything else.

  “I met Finnegan, my departed husband, the summer he was stationed in York, you know,” she said, apropos of nothing. “It was quite the thing to dance with the Navy boys that summer, and a still greater feat to land one permanently.”

  “Is that when your affinity for trout fishing came in handy?” August asked without thinking. Immediately he regretted speaking so candidly, but she only laughed.

  “It was Finnegan who taught me how, of course,” she said. “We stayed at the Marcus cottage on occasion, but it was before you were born.”

  “Will you visit this summer?” August inquired.

  “I haven’t yet decided, though the invitation has been extended, of course,” she replied. Then she fixed August with a stare that told him more was intended than an answer to his question. “What I mean, lad, is that some girls make long decisions and some make short ones, but all of them can be very good. Helena makes long ones. I appreciate your patience.”

  “I like to think I make long decisions as well, Mrs. Finnegan,” he said. “Both in business and in personal life. Perhaps that is one of the reasons we are so well suited.”

  It was true enough, if one ignored his recent decisions regarding the funding of arms purchases by privateers and the acquisition of a certain illicit form of radar detection technology.

  “You must call me Aunt Theresa,” said the older woman. “The girls are going to, anyway, and I find it rather appealing to suddenly have so much family about me.”

  “Of course, Aunt,” he replied. “I am glad to be included.”

  “I might as well get used to you, eh?” she said with a laugh. “Now, be a good boy and pass me the sort of scone Helena’s been eating so I can tell my cook to copy it.”

  August complied, and looked up to see Helena smiling at him before she turned back to her discussion with Elizabeth and Margaret.

  Lady Highcastle stacked several tiny sandwiches and not a small number of rugelach—Sally’s mother’s special recipe—on her plate and proceeded to eat them in single bites. Sally was going to be euphoric. She was new to the head cook position, though impeccably suited to and quite worthy of it, and still unsure of how well her fare, a combination of Canadian staples and old family recipes, would be accepted.

  “It’s a pity my husband couldn’t join us,” said Lady Highcastle.

  August, who had a mouthful of his own, managed not to choke.

  “Indeed,” Aunt Theresa said. “I imagine he would appreciate August’s viewpoint on the situation in the Seaway. The Navy tends to see this sort of thing quite directly, while I imagine that our August has a more nuanced vision.”

  Both women looked at him expectantly.

  “We have suffered some losses, of course,” August said, choosing each word with utmost care and trying to look like he was speaking casually. “One out of every five ships spots a corsair, but so far only one in ten is attacked.” As he went on reciting the figures he knew too well, August wondered whether he was blushing or had become incredibly pale.

  “Shocking, indeed. That is far too many,” Lady Highcastle said.

  Margaret’s attention waned from whatever Elizabeth was saying to overhear Lady Highcastle express her sympathies for August’s business difficulties. The particulars were unfamiliar but she well knew the general drift. The Admiral’s wife was clearly accustomed to making apologies for a Navy spread too thin, and it was nothing to her between sandwiches and cakes to make a worried merchant feel a meeting with her husband was imminent without leaving any trace of a commitment to such a meeting. Margaret made no sign that she’d listened, but nodded inwardly, recognizing skilled tea-table diplomacy when she saw it.

  August gamely agreed, and Margaret saw that Lady Highcastle had gotten her desired outcome. Margaret didn’t know August well, but she wondered whether August might not also have gotten the outcome he wished for.

  “Don’t look so worried, August,” Elizabeth said. She had not, precisely, been given permission to call him by his first name, Margaret noted, but clearly there would be no going back now, on any field of play. “Father is not half so grouchy as he looks like he’s going to be. The uniform does a great deal of his work for him.”

  August forced himself to laugh with the rest of them, but his discomfort could not be so easily assuaged. He hoped the conversation would move away from him. What he had done, and what he planned to continue doing, was quite illegal, were he to be caught. He didn’t imagine that Helena’s aunt would be quite so fond of him if he ruined her niece’s new friendships so quickly. The best he could hope for now was to be as discreet as possible, and hope to bring the entire matter to as swift—and anonymous—an ending as was reasonable.

  “I know it isn’t exactly what we hoped for,” Helena said privately to him when the others began to talk of their plans for the evening. “I invited you to New London, and you ended up here, but I’m glad you could come. Evie looks delighted, if nothing else, and I am having a much better time than I anticipated. Even when Elizabeth and Margaret end up in different countries, it will be good to have their friendship.”

  “It’s not like you can’t travel, I suppose,” he said.

  “I never meant to, is the only thing,” she told him. “I meant to live in the woods with you and be happy there. I don’t want you to feel I’ve misled you.”

  “Helena, as my mother is so fond of telling me, we are both young. It would be stranger if we were already a hundred percent set in our ways.” This time he did take her hand, caring not a whit for whoever might be watching. “We’ll take the next steps together, as we always planned. Does that seem all right?”

  “It does,” s
he said, and blushed when he raised her hand to his lips and kissed it.

  “Don’t think this means you’re allowed to pass on dances with us, August Callaghan,” Elizabeth said gaily.

  “I wouldn’t dream of it, Miss Highcastle,” he replied, letting go of Helena’s hand and bowing to all three of the girls as he would to the Queen herself.

  They all laughed, except for Margaret, who he thought looked vaguely uncomfortable. Perhaps he hadn’t been as gregarious as he thought. For Helena’s sake, he would do better. The last thing he wanted to do was upset Helena’s newfound friends.

  It is you, of course, who will bear the brunt of my decision. Doubtless there will be politicians who come to you after my death, if they don’t before, and whisper that it should be you and not your sister. In fact, we may consider ourselves lucky if whispering is all they do! But you will support your sister and you will dismiss all those claims. I am sorry if you perceive your marriage as exile, though I hope that in time you will come to love Canada—and your wife—as much as you can. Trust me when I tell you that Europe has only cousins to offer you, and no real independence.

  —Victoria I, in a letter to her newly married son,

  Prince Edward of Canada

  CHAPTER

  11

  Helena weighed the –chip in her hand. It was made of hard plastic, and even though it had already taken her sample—a nearly undetectable prick with a hair-fine needle—it was so light she could barely feel it against her palm. The components had been assembled in a factory somewhere, shipped across the Empire, and made ready for purchase in stores for people just like her: newly debuted and ready to enter the wide world at last. She thought it should have weighed more.

  Academically, she knew that it was not particularly small. It was, to give a hyperbolic example, almost infinitely larger than the DNA code for a single human girl it now contained. But it was her DNA code, and until she logged it officially, the code was known only to her and to God.