Chapter 5

Over a month had passed since Phileas and Melody had come to London. Phileas was fully recovered from his injuries. He had Passepartout handle finding a lady's maid and a housemaid as intended. The housemaid had been a present of sorts for Passepartout. As a bachelor, Phileas had put his valet to doing all household chores. As very few women would serve in a single man's house, that was just the way it had to be.

"But now that there is a lady in the house," Phileas said to Passepartout, "there is no need for you to be forced to function as a man of all work. From now on, you will act only as my valet and the Aurora's captain. I may miss your cooking while not on board the Aurora, but I will suffer through it." He said with a smile.

As directed, Passepartout found a candidate, a pretty young woman named Mary, who had been about Melody's age to act as lady's maid and Abigail. She came with acceptable references. Mary had been a prim small woman with honey blonde hair and blue eyes, who giggled at Passepartout's odd turn of phrases. She had a cute laugh and a pretty smile and quickly took to his valet. Phileas had frowned a bit at that development but dismissed it. If she suited Melody, she could stay. Privately, he hoped she was a good worker. If he had to sack the girl, it might break Passepartout's heart.

As a lady's maid, Mary would be expected to live on premises. That had required the renovation of the extra room used for storage in the attic, which Phileas put Passepartout and the women in charge of. It had been more of a change to his household than he had expected, but all the adjustments were managed quickly.

Mary, in turn, had had a cousin named Kathy, who had experience as a cook and first maid and needed work. Kathy, a sturdy-looking spinster woman, had been alike in coloring but not of the same temperament. She didn't giggle, was serious minded, and could provide a family chaperone to counter any foolishness that might develop between her cousin and his valet. On the strength of that last point, Phileas charged her with that and the position on the spot. Better, she lived close enough not to require board and her cooking was excellent.

Phileas still had not fully regained his memories, but he was no longer worried about it. If those early days were completely lost to him, then so be it. Instead, he had made efforts to get to know his bride in the here and now.

Phileas was getting used to that idea. She had been a passionate open partner with him on that last day aboard ship. That clear memory had repeatedly haunted him as his celibate state continued.

There had to be something good between us before my memory loss. An off-putting problem to be sure, but we have both had time. This rift between us needs to be repaired.

To that end, Phileas courted Melody anew. They had attended several entertainments about town in Jules's company and were in the process of planning a trip to Shillingworth Magna. Melody was guardedly receptive to his efforts. Part of that might be his reluctance to announce their marriage. On the few occasions where they had met people he knew, Phileas introduced Melody without elaborating. She had agreed to his reasoning, but now he wondered if she was resentful of it.

It seemed the only way to his mind. If he allowed their marriage to be known, they would be besieged with well-wishers and an announcement in the papers would come instantly, even if he himself didn't order it. And then, not only Melody's presence, but also her address in London would be known. That he wanted to avoid. Despite Peter's efforts at the home office, and other contacts Phileas had tried, he had yet to learn any reason for Melody's personal peril.

Jules, however, found his public manner unacceptable, and registered it loudly and clearly. Jules had not known about his friend's agreement with his wife when they had gone out together. When Phileas introduced Melody by her maiden name, Jules stiffened but kept silent until they had returned to the house.

Phileas knew he was in for a lashing when Verne closed the door to the study after Melody went upstairs. He never did that. The look on his face when he turned back to him proved he was angry about something.

"Something about the play upset you, Verne?"

"Something said before the play upset me, yes," Jules said. "Why did you introduce your wife by her maiden name? You are married to her, Fogg. By your own admission, she is Mrs. Melody Fogg; so, why this public deception?"

"There is no deception, Verne," Phileas said. "Melody could still be in danger. To reveal her location with a formal announcement of our marriage would be foolhardy until I know the truth. I am avoiding an announcement until Melody and I are fully reconciled with it. Plus, her brother has not given his blessing yet."

"And not acknowledging her publicly is going to help that along?" Verne said. "Come on Fogg, even you should know better than that. Haven't you stopped to think about the fact that she is living under your roof? Don't you know what that does to a woman's reputation without the cover of marriage?"

"Verne, that's enough!" Phileas snapped. "I will deal with this situation as I think best. Melody is in no danger of social censor, but you are in danger of overstepping our friendship!"

"In this, I will overstep with no reservations," Jules shot back. "I shouldn't have to tell you this, Fogg. Melody isn't going to be more receptive to you until you treat her properly. And that includes acknowledging her as your wife!"

Phileas had been about to throw Jules out of his study and house for that unsolicited advice. He didn't get the chance. Jules opened the door and snapped, "And before and if you decide to take that advice, I suggest you give her a wedding ring. You have also failed at that!"

Jules left the house that night.

Rebecca found out after the fact from Melody the reason for Jules's sudden departure. The men's voices had carried, giving the distraught lady a clear accounting of the trouble she felt she had caused between her husband and his friend.

Rebecca assured her it would blow over after they had had time to cool off.

"They argue spiritedly over many things. This is just one more. I'm sorry their latest shouting match upset you."

Privately, Rebecca agreed with Verne. She had been biting her tongue over the way her cousin oversaw the situation. If Phileas had really wanted to give them time to get to know each other uninterrupted, he should have left London for Shillingworth Magna long ago. There, they would have no need for subterfuge.

Soon I may have to confront him about it, too. But for now, I'll let them handle their problems without comment.