Dutty suddenly turned to Baxter. “So you’re not..? Well, who is?”
“You’ll have to get that from her, I’m afraid. She hasn’t enlightened me.”
“Hero, I’m sorry,” said Senta. “I guess I wasn’t thinking clearly. I’ll make it up to you. I’ll do something special for your little Senta and everyone will know she’s the best one.”
“So who is the father?” asked Dutty again, this time directing the question to the sorceress.
“I’m afraid I can’t tell you.”
“Can’t tell?”
“Well no. There must have been hundreds of men and their todgers all looked about the same. I really was a bit of a harlot there for a while.”
“DaDa,” said the baby.
Baxter picked up a chocolate biscuit from a tray and handed it to her.
“Quiet now,” he said. “Your mother’s showing us how to make friends and influence people.”
“It seems as though Baby Senta has decided who her father is,” said Dutty. “Didn’t you hear her say Dada?”
“You know she’s lying about being a harlot, don’t you?” Gabrielle told Baxter. “There wasn’t a parade of men in and out of here.”
“There was at least one,” said Baxter. “It doesn’t matter anyway. Pass me a sandwich, please.”
“So you won’t tell us the name of the father,” Gabby said to Senta, while passing a plate of sandwiches to the gentleman.
“If that’s what you choose to believe,” said the sorceress.
“It is what I choose to believe, and I think that I’m right. Don’t you, Hero?”
“Yes, of course,” said Hero. “There weren’t many men that… oh!”
“What is it, Hero?” asked Dutty.
“Um, nothing. I mean, um, we can’t be sure, can we? Maybe there was a parade of todgers…” She clamped her hands over her face, which it was easy enough to see, was turning bright red.
“Perhaps we could stop talking about todgers,” said Peter. “It’s not my favorite subject.”
“Hear! Hear!” said Baxter. “I haven’t been to many ladies’ teas, but it never occurred to me they were so off color.”
Everyone was completely quiet for almost a minute. Then Dutty began to giggle and Senta followed. Soon everyone was laughing. By the time they were done, there was more than one pair of tear-filled eyes.
They finished eating while Senta told them of traveling to Greater Brechalon, meeting Baxter, and giving birth at the Clarkson House. She told them of her trip to Freedonia and the attempts on her life. She didn’t tell them of the encounter at the white opthalium den. Neither did she make any mention of her contact with Pantagria. Her friends were blissfully ignorant of the other world—the mysterious world connected to theirs by drugs and magic, and she could think of no benefit to enlightening them.
Senta had just begun recounting their trip aboard the S.S. Windlass, when Baxter excused himself. He picked up the baby from her high chair and carried her toward the kitchen to fix her a bottle.
“Sweet Kafira!” hissed Dutty. “What an interesting man. I never would have pictured you with his type.”
“You thought I would go for a dull man then?” asked Senta.
“If you’ll excuse me, ladies,” said Peter, standing up but taking another sandwich as he did so. “I’m going to go and pretend that you’ll talk about me when I’m gone.”
“Lovely to meet you, Peter,” said Gabby, but once he was gone, she turned back to Senta. “I know what Dutty means. He just doesn’t seem your sort. You know who he reminds me of? Oh, um, never mind…”
“Let’s move to the parlor,” said the sorceress.
Once there, she completed her narrative. She ended with the shooting in Mallontah.
“I wondered if you were going to say something about that,” said Dutty. “Everyone is still talking about it.”
“You heard?”
“It’s been in the Birmisia Gazette all week. I imagine it caused your cousins quite a bit of upset to have to write about it. Have you talked to them yet?”
“Um, not yet. I was going to go around and see them this afternoon. Tell me, what other news has been filling Port Dechantagne’s finest and only news sheet?”
“They’ve started construction on the University of Birmisia,” said Dutty. “They’re going to start classes in Novuary. Of course the buildings won’t be done by then, but they’ll have temporary classes until they are. I’m thinking of going for a degree myself. My family could never afford to even send the boys to university back in Brech.”
“And what would you study?” asked Senta.
“Probably political science.”
“With an eye toward doing what, exactly?”
“I’m a woman. I don’t have to do anything.”
“Warden Charmley was taken by utahraptors,” said Hero. “I always thought he was a lovely boy.”
“I did too,” said Senta. “That’s sad news.”
“Mr. Wissinger’s book is still a topic of conversation,” said Gabby.
“Yes, I even saw stacks of them in bookstore windows in Freedonia,” said Senta. “I suppose they are just as happy to blame their king for the war as everyone else is.”
“Iolana Staff has published a second book,” said Gabby. “All the girls are buying copies. I don’t think they’re reading them though. It just seems to be the fashion to have one in your handbag.”
“Is it history or mathematics?” asked Senta.
“It’s poetry,” said Hero. “I read it and thought it was rather sweet.”
“Well, she must get that from her father,” said Gabby, who then slapped her hand over her mouth.
“Well, it’s not been in the news, but Dot Shrubb is preggers again,” said Dutty.
“I’m sure that’s happy news,” said Senta. “I have always found the Shrubbs to be two of the least objectionable people I know.”
“You know you sound just like Zurfina,” said Hero. It had been an offhand remark, but now she stared into Senta’s face. “You do sound just like Zurfina.”
“Don’t worry, Hero. I’m still me. Do you remember the first thing that Graham said to you when you told him your name and Hertzel’s?”
“Yes.”
“He said ‘too bad for you’.” Senta smiled at the fond memory.
“I knew it was you all along,” said Hero.
“Do you know you have more relatives in the colony?” Dutty asked.
“No. Who?”
“It’s your cousins,” said Hero. “Bertice, Didrika, and Ernst. They arrived here a few months ago.
“Then I have much to do this afternoon,” said Senta, pouring each another cup of tea. “You’ll all come back tomorrow?”
“I’d like to bring Honor,” said Hero.
“Yes, I think you should. Gabby, you could bring Abigail.”
Half an hour later, the party was over and the visitors were being guided out the door by the butler. Senta hurried upstairs to change. Aggie was there to help her although she didn’t really need it. She stripped off the dress and the foundation garments, and then pulled leather pants, a leather corset, and high black boots from her closet. As she skipped down the stairs, she met Baxter, baby in his arms, at the halfway point.
“This is new,” he said, looking her up and down.
“Get used to it. This is how they expect me to dress here. I’m the sorceress. I’m going visiting. I’ll take the baby with me.”
“She’s about to go down for a nap,” he said.
“All the better.” She took the child from his hands.
“You’ll need some things: nappies, a blanket.”
“I thought you said she was ready to go down.”
He shrugged, and then went up the stairs to fetch the items.
“Are you taking the trolley?” he asked, when he returned.
“No, I had Cheery summon a rickshaw. It should be waiting by now.
“Maybe I should go with you. T
here could be another assassin laying about.”
“That won’t happen again,” said the sorceress. “It was stupid of me to let it happen the once.”
Leaving the man where he stood, she quickly made her way downstairs, and when Cheery opened the door for her, outside. A rickshaw was waiting just beyond the front portico. It was manned by a very large lizzie, well over seven feet tall with mottled olive skin and a large scar on his shoulder.
“I’ll need you for the day,” Senta told him. “Will this be enough?” She handed him two gold decimarks, knowing that it was more than enough.
He nodded and held out his hand to help her into the vehicle. She handed him the baby and climbed in. Little Senta scrunched up her face and started to cry. When Senta reached out for the child, the lizzie looked as though he was ready to turn tail and flee.
“Pay her no mind. Do you know where the publishing house is… on Clark and Forest?”
The lizzie nodded again and then took up the two shafts that stood out from the rickshaw’s front. The baby quieted as the wheels started turning. They rolled down the cobblestone path to the large wrought iron gate, on the other side of which waited several dozen looky-loos. They jumped out of the way when Senta waved her hand and the gate magically opened, and they quietly watched her as she rode by, though she could hear them murmuring excitedly to each once she was past.
It took far longer to reach McCoort and McCoort Publishing than Senta had expected. The streets were busier than they had been in Brech City, packed full of steam carriages, rickshaws, and pedestrians. Fortunately the baby had dropped off to sleep almost immediately. And everywhere they went, people stopped what they were doing and stared at them. At last, almost an hour after they had left the house, they turned the corner onto Forest and stopped.
The sorceress climbed out without waiting for the lizardman to help her. Scooping up the sleeping baby, she walked up the path and entered the front door. The smell of paper and glue was thick, as was the sound of heavy steam-powered machinery. It was half a minute before Geert stepped out from the back room.
“Kafira Kristos!” he shouted, running around the counter and grabbing Senta around the neck, waking up the baby in the process.
“I don’t think you’re supposed to blaspheme like that anymore,” she said. “Hasn’t your wife taught you how to do it the Zaeri way?”
“All of her cursing is in Freedonian. Sorry, sorry little one. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” Geert patted the baby on the head. She fussed for a second and then snuggled back into her mother’s arms and closed her eyes. “I can’t believe it’s you. Seems like you’ve been gone forever.”
“Well it hasn’t been forever. It’s good to see you though.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Where’s Maro?”
“Next door at the Gazette. You’ll appreciate the headline.” He turned around and picked up the top newspaper from a stack on the counter. The headline read “Drache Girl Returns.”
“No wonder there’s a larger than usual number of gawkers outside my gate.”
“So this is your baby, isn’t it?” he asked.
“Yes. Meet your little cousin Senta.”
“She looks just like you did when you were little. Where’s your husband?”
“I don’t have one of those, but I do have a gentleman friend. You’ll like him. In fact, your wife is coming to tea tomorrow. Why don’t you come along? You might be able to meet him.”
“I’ll do that. I’ll take the time off and come.” He hugged Senta again and then bent down to kiss little Senta on the head. “Let’s go see Maro.”
“Of course, but first I need a copy of Iolana Dechantagne’s poetry book. A little bird told me that all the young ladies simply must have a copy.”
“Yes. I don’t quite understand that. I think they’re all making fun of her, but I haven’t exactly figured out how.” He took one of the small green leather-bound volumes from the rack and handed it to her. “Now, come on.”
He guided her by her elbow out the door and over to the newspaper building. Senta’s cousin Maro had his hand on the door handle as they entered.
“Senta!” he said, stepping back to let them in. Little Senta started squirming. “So this is the baby, eh?”
“You know about her already?”
“Oh, my spies have already reported. I can’t wait to see the governor’s face when she finds out you’ve had her husband’s baby.”
“Maro,” gasped Geert.
“Who says she’s Mr. Staff’s baby?” demanded Senta, bouncing the baby in question on her hip.
“That’s the rumor,” said Maro. “I mean, after all, where did she get that blond hair?”
“I’ve got blond hair, you bloody prat.”
“So you do. Does that mean that Staff’s not the father? Because maybe the odds won’t be so long on Marzell Lance then.”
“There’s wagering?”
“Well, not yet, but I’m sure there will be. Liam Typaldos has a line on everything of interest and nothing this good has come along in a while. The rumor says that Staff is the man, but I imagine there will be odds on Marzell, and Saba Colbshallow, and probably a few others.”
Senta counted off on her fingers, “Benny Markham, Shemar Morris, Eamon Shrubb, Alwijn Finkler, Leo Ghent, Gyula Kearn…”
“Gyula Kearn?” said Maro. “He’s old and fat, and he only has one arm.”
“But I like him,” said Senta. She reached into the top of her corset and pulled out a gold decimark, handing it to her cousin. “Put ten marks down on Isaak Wissinger. That will make him happy.”
“Is he the one?” asked Maro. “I know where I could borrow a couple of hundred. I could really make out on this. How much should I bet?”
“You shouldn’t bet anything,” hissed Geert. “She’s your cousin.”
“No you shouldn’t bet anything,” said Senta leaning close and putting her mouth by his ear, “because no one will ever find out the truth.”
Chapter Seventeen: Tea
Iolana had been watching the post eagerly for five days. She wasn’t sure how long it would take for a response to her letter. She wasn’t even sure how long it would take for her letter to reach its intended recipient. But no answer arrived. So she was waiting eagerly when Kayden brought the morning post in on a silver tray and set it on the occasional table in the foyer. Among the twenty-three pieces of mail was a large rose-colored envelope addressed to Mr. and Governor Staff and Miss Iolana Staff. There was a similar one addressed to Mrs. Yuah Dechantagne, Master Augustus Dechantagne, and Miss Terra Dechantagne.
Picking up the silver letter opener from beside the tray, she sliced open the envelope with her name on it. She pulled out a beautifully engrave invitation. “You are invited for tea at the home of Miss Senta Bly, 2:00 PM, Octuary 7, 1907.” This was interesting. She hadn’t even realized that the Drache Girl had returned to Port Dechantagne. Only yesterday she had been reading in the Birmisia Gazette that Senta had been shot in Mallontah. She slipped the invitation back into the enveloped and placed it with the rest of the mail.
Making her way back to the library, she took Curse of the Cloud Women, the Rikkard Banks Tatum book that she had both started and finished that morning, and returned it to its crate. She had just picked up the morning Gazette, when Kayden stepped silently into the room, carrying a silver tray with another piece of mail upon it.
“Was this in the morning post?” asked Iolana. “I’ve already gone through it.”
“Special delivery.” Kayden still had problems with his Ps and his Vs, but by deemphasizing them, he almost was able to match human speech.
Taking the gold envelope and the opener from the tray, she had sliced it open before remembering to see to whom it was addressed. Miss Iolana L.D. Staff.”
“Hmm,” she said, opening what turned out to be another invitation. “I apologize profusely for the lateness of this request, but I would greatly appreciate if you could join our luncheon today at 11:30. Due to time re
strictions, no R.S.V.P. is required. Your dearest friend, Sherree Glieberman.”
“My dearest friend?” thought Iolana aloud. “If I were in hell.”
“What’s that, dear?” Auntie Yuah walked into the room as the eleven-year-old waved the lizzie major-domo out.
“I have to get ready for a luncheon date,” said Iolana. “I’ve been invited to the Glieberman’s.”
“Didn’t you say the girl was a twat?”
“I’m sure I didn’t use that term.”
Her aunt shrugged.
“There’s an invitation for you with the mail,” said Iolana. “Tea with the Drache Girl it seems.”
“Really?” exclaimed Yuah, turning and heading for the foyer.
Iolana took the back hallway and the narrow back stairs up to the second floor and stepped into her room to change. She expected to find Esther lying on the floor, but the lizzie was not present. Stepping back out, she walked up past the balcony to the nursery where she found her playing the Birmisia block game with Terra.
“I need Esther for a minute,” she told her cousin. “You can have her back after I get dressed.”
“Don’t bother,” said Terra. “I don’t want to play anymore. She keeps beating me.”
Back in her room, Iolana chose a pink skirt and a white blouse, which she paired with a pink bowtie. She wasn’t sure who else would be there—she couldn’t imagine Sherree inviting only her—but it would be a sure thing that there would no Zaeri. She wouldn’t need to worry about outshining anyone. This reminded her that she should have Willa over to visit some time. Placing her red boater on her head, she started off.
“You can stay in here if you’re done playing with Terra,” she told Esther as she went out the door.
She found Walworth downstairs in the kitchen, not unexpectedly eating a sandwich.
“What is it my father pays you for, Wally?”
“Huh? He, um… for driving.”
“Well then, fancy driving me to the Glieberman House?”
“That’s what they pay me… oh, yeah.”
It took Wally almost fifteen minutes to get the steam carriage warmed up enough to set out, and took less than ten minutes to reach Iolana’s destination. The Gliebermans had recently moved into the same affluent neighborhood that the Staffs had always lived in. Their new house was several blocks south on Imperial Avenue. Iolana could have probably walked there in five minutes, but that would have meant crossing several vacant lots in between. Though the mud had dried up in the summer, the untamed areas within the city were filled with sticker bushes, and sometimes velociraptors.
The Sorceress and her Lovers Page 21