1
October 1862
Now
you must know that ordinarily Fogg never turns a hair. I swear the man has a passionate nature, but
it rarely reaches his demeanor. Even in
his cups he merely becomes louder and a trifle stumble bum. I, of course, set aside the times when grief
has turned his mind. Our extended
confinement on board the Aurora grates on all our sensibilities since no escape
is permitted from hourly close contact.
Today
I chanced on the end of an argument between he and Rebecca. " . . . Perhaps you want it too, Rebecca, as
everyone else aboard," I heard as I entered the salon. Fogg seemed completely out of sorts, the
man's eyes shot fire and he bared his teeth as if facing a sworn enemy rather
than his beloved cousin.
"Now
that annoys me! How dare you say such a
thing!" Rebecca's replied then made a lightning move with her right arm. With a wide movement Fogg swept away her arm
and in a trice locked it behind her back and wrapped one of his own arms round
her neck.
"Rebecca,"
he said into her ear. "You of all
people must know I'm not in the habit of de-flowering maidens. Give me some credit."
I
could not hear Rebecca's answer, but Fogg's next words were, "Eh, what's
that? You're sorry? Shall we call a truce then, dear cuz?" And when she did not respond, he jostled her
a little.
I
was beginning to think I should interfere in this set to, but Miss Jude chose
that moment to call out from a few feet down the companionway, "Mr. Fogg? Miss Rebecca? Where is everyone?" And
Fogg, looking about, saw me standing there. He instantly released Rebecca, stepping back with a surrendering, hands
lifted gesture.
"If
you'd like refresher tai chi lessons, Cousin, it would be my pleasure to
oblige," Fogg offered to Rebecca's rigid retreating back as she brushed first
past me and then an astonished Miss Jude. Although Rebecca avoided my eyes, her high color and trembling lips
revealed her state of mind. I have
rarely seen her so agitated.
Fogg
returned my glare with his coldest, most English look. The cliffs at Dover were no more stony-faced
than he.
That
was all mid-day and as I reflect on it now in the quiet of this snowy evening,
with flakes whispering off the observation glass on which I rest my head, I
realize that of those onboard Aurora I am the only one completely
dis-interested in the physical attentions of this man. Perhaps it is a burden for him, although
that is no excuse for his attack on a woman.
2
October 1862
Miss
Jude is really the most delightful child! This morning she begged me to relate the mysteries of Aurora's
operation, which I did to the best of my ability only deferring to Passepartout
once or twice regarding the operation of galley and heating systems.
Miss
Rebecca and Fogg speak not to each other, no small effort aboard the Aurora
where one can scarcely turn about without colliding with another
passenger. For the first time this trip
Fogg has brought out his decanter of port. We all keenly feel this rift between the cousins. I resolve to reveal to Rebecca what I
observed four nights agone. Perhaps it
will clear the air. I believe she is in
the bedchamber. I will go to her now.
I
found Rebecca at last in the workroom, attempting to open with far too large a
blade an enameled locket on a fine gold chain. Her head bent close over her work, oblivious to me, I could for a moment
observe the smokeless fire of her hair, the black-lashed intent eyes, the
strength of her sweet fingers.
"Here,"
I said when she looked up, "let me help you with that," and took it out of her
hands. I had the feeling from the set
of her generous lips that she would have liked to snatch the locket back
straightway.
As I
used a small buttonhook to work it, I began my discourse on Fogg's night of
watching Miss Jude. "Rebecca, this
disagreement between you and Phileas has to stop," was my clumsy opening
gambit. "Nothing happened between him
and Miss Jude, you know. I saw it. Miss Jude fell asleep in his arms."
"Oh,
is that what you think this is about, Jules? Me protecting Miss Carr? Oh for
heaven's sake," she said and made a half-hearted attempt to acquire her locket. I say half-hearted because she was
unsuccessful. A full-hearted Rebecca
would not only have retrieved the locket but wrapped its chain around my neck
as a garrote.
Said
locket stubbornly held closed. I
switched to a fine lock pick.
"Well,
I suppose you deserve an explanation. You and Passepartout are as close to family as I'll have again." Rebecca paused, her eyes watching my hands
tease the locket's clasp.
"When
I was 16, Phileas returned alone from school to visit Sir Boniface and me at
Shillingworth Magna, I can't remember why. I confess at the time I was besotted with Phil. He was four years older and as handsome as a
demon prince." Rebecca still held the
blade she had tried on the locket. In
contemplation of this long ago time she twirled it limberly back and forth among
her fingers. I stopped my work anxious
that she cut herself, but she laid the blade down again.
"One
day we went racing our horses up the moors. I madly challenged him to catch me. Which he eventually did but only after a foot race down the beach of
Lake Fogg. He knocked me to the ground
and pinned me down, both of us laughing wildly."
At
this moment the locket came open in my hands to reveal a shiny curl of
jet-black hair. I looked up at
Rebecca. She took the locket and
stroked the curl. "I had the most
romantic notions that year and would have it that all the Fogg children would
join Sir Boniface's Secret Service, including me. I had this plan in my head to guarantee it and Phileas figured
large therein. So, there on the beach,
what would have been a childish game just six months before became a
provocation to something else. I kissed
Phil oh so passionately on the lips. I
thought it was rather good for my very first kiss. But then I went on to beg him to take away my virginity." She
looked up at me with an impish grin. "If you must know, I was not then clear on
what virginity involved but knew its removal required male assistance. Well, you can imagine what Phileas did."
Since
the only thing in my head was what I would have done given such an opportunity,
I said, "No, actually I'm not quite sure."
"He
threw me in the lake!" Rebecca exclaimed.
"Oh
no!" I commiserated.
"But
I got back at him," Rebecca went on. "I
pretended to drown and, taking the bait he jumped in to save me. I gave him a sound dunking." She shook her head. "We were quite a sight. The feathers on my riding bonnet hung in my
face, and Phileas's beaver hat just floated away. When he emptied the water out of his boots, a fish this big,"
with her fingers she measured a space of three inches or so, "fell out. It's a wonder the horses would carry us back
to the manor." We chuckled together.
"But
you're right, Jules," Rebecca continued. "This can't go on. I must make
amends with Phileas." She snapped the
locket shut, kissed it and with my help settled it around her neck. "Thank you," she said and awarded me with a
sisterly buss on the lips. For such
prizes I live.