Chapter 7
Jules Verne stayed on the Aurora with Phileas and Passepartout to be near when needed. He was in between classes at present, which made Phileas feel better about taking up the young man's time. Since their association, Verne had missed more class time than had been good for him. Phileas had had to write letters to the university several times, making up study opportunities abroad to keep Jules from being expelled.
While Rebecca spent most of her time with Irene, Verne and Mrs. Gideon, Phileas had been getting acquainted with his lost cousin. The two men spent most of their time together making plans for David's future.
David Fogg had little need of his generous salary during his service in Ireland. He had invested most, giving himself plenty of means. What he did not have was a direction. Phileas remembered being the same way when he had left the service. They had both made their work their life. And now, without work, what would life be about?
Phileas had created a leisurely existence as a gentleman gambler with the added duty of keeping Rebecca from getting killed in her duties to the Crown. Of late, he had also taken a stronger interest in building up and improving Shillingsworth Magna, his ancestral home. Added to that had come the self-imposed guard duty over Jules Verne. All these various directions he could turn to for fulfillment.
David Fogg, however, had no such guardian duties other than raising his fiancé from her grief. He had no home to return to; having been reared in his father's regiment. David had a shocking lack of vices, in Fogg's opinion. He drank less now that he did not need to keep up appearances, and he had never gambled. That took Phileas by surprise more than the first revelation. He had never heard of an Army officer who didn't play cards.
In a night of reflections, David had told him a great deal about running about the Irish countryside. "There were farms, estates, inns, and churches across the island that sheltered me. As a local hero, I enjoyed the adoration of several ladies, of all classes, who protected, fed, and loved me," David boasted shamelessly. "Of course, in deference to Irene, I have backed off on visiting them since our engagement."
"Wise," Phileas said.
With so few interests other than his intended, Phileas considered his cousin well on the way to a life of quiet domesticity.
"May you one day join me in my happiness," David said, striking one more in a long succession of toasts, tales
"Heaven forbid!" Phileas said in mock horror.
Paris had been beautiful and exciting in the weeks Irene had Rebecca and Jules Verne for sightseeing partners. Irene had been indulging her starving interest in the theater. Jules Verne, of course, knew all the better plays and had made a schedule for the ladies to see them. They had also been to the Louvre twice, and several other notable sights around Paris.
Fogg had given Verne a tour allowance to keep the ladies occupied. "Part admissions, food and treat money, and part payment for taking mine and David's duties, we are shamelessly dodging," Phileas said with a grin. "Well, I'm dodging. David can't be seen in public."
Both Fogg men had spent time in Paris in their youth and would have been bored unto tears, having to follow the ladies around town. Their attitude verified Rebecca's need for his escort. Verne had found the ladies enjoyable, and the chance to show off the city that he loved had been a special treat rather than a burden. Getting paid for it, an added pleasure.
Today, after a Saturday matinee, Phileas agreed to meet the happy tourists for lunch. The meal would be taken at one of Paris's better restaurants. Verne had only heard of this place, as had been the case of all the places Rebecca had been suggesting.
If this keeps up, I will have firsthand knowledge of all the finer restaurants in the city. I might even gain a little weight.
Verne made that pronouncement to himself as he traveled with his charges in an open carriage. A nag passing by had a fancy bonnet on its head with holes for the ears to fit through. The hat was decked out with enough flowers to imitate an Easter bonnet.
Irene admired the animal's finery and insisted they take that the carriage for the trip to lunch. Traffic had not been too bad for this time of day, but they were occasionally made to stop and give way to larger vehicles.
Coming close to their destination, a covered wagon came out of nowhere on the road, going far too fast for safety. It sped close by their carriage as it passed. Too close… The wheels of the two vehicles hit and the lighter carriage was pulled hard onto one side. It bounced back over on its springs to the other side, stressing its old axle past endurance. The axle broke, and the far wheel came off, causing the carriage to crash on its side.
Verne had been on the side of the wagon hit. He had been badly shaken, but not thrown out. The two ladies were spilled out onto the street in a tumble of skirts. Rebecca recovered first, rolling up to her feet with a look of furious indignation. The wagon causing the accident didn't stop, so she had no one to vent against.
Irene, who had been on the far side of the carriage. She fell out first and broke Rebecca's fall as they tumbled across the road over each other. She shakily came to a sitting position, but did not seem hurt.
A tall man came out of the crowd that had stopped to view the accident. "Is anyone hurt?" he asked. Rebecca shook the dirt off her skirts and claimed to be fine. The young man turned to Irene, kneeling over her. He tried to take her by the waist to lift her up. Irene to cry out in pain.
"This lady is hurt." He said in French. "I will look for a doctor." He stood and disappeared into the crowds.
Rebecca and Verne knelt beside Irene to check the injury. Irene's eyes were wide with shock. She seemed far worse now than she had been before the man had tried to help her. Rebecca wondered if she had broken a rib and the pressure had irritated it. Then she saw blood dripping down Irene's dress. There was a puncture wound, going through the corset and into her side. The blood had not been there before.
Rebecca eased Irene down in the street on her side and called for one of the carriage cushions to be brought for a pillow. She put her handkerchief over the cut to stop the bleeding. Irene tried to say something; but Rebecca placed her hand to her lips to quiet her.
"I know… I know… I'm so sorry, Irene," Rebecca said. "I am so sorry!"
