Chapter 11
Phileas's prediction had been a half hour out of date. Passepartout had already fallen at his new mistress's feet, and Jules had gone down on his knees beside him. Not knowing of the undercurrents between master and mistress yet, the two Frenchmen had taken Fogg's new wife at face value, a kind lady, wanting to make a good start with her in-law.
When Melody and Jules had entered the kitchen, the lady had begged Passepartout to help her set up a dinner for her husband's cousin that would include Rebecca's favorite foods. Anyone willing to go to trouble to make Miss Rebecca happy was to be commended in the valet's eyes. In response, he had listed several things they could do and had offered to go to the market to get what would be needed.
Jules had gotten into the spirit of it too, insisting that any meal with Rebecca in mind had to include strawberries. "As a matter of fact, we should head to the market and find some," Jules said, giving Passepartout a sign behind Melody's back urging haste.
"Yes," Passepartout said. "And Miss Melody should be coming, too."
"But I must take the tea to Phileas and Rebecca. I can't leave just as a guest arrives," Melody said, horrified. And Mr. Verne, you are a guest, too. I must make a place for you upstairs and–"
"Miss Melody being better going to market and letting Master Fogg speak to Miss Rebecca alone," Passepartout bluntly said, interrupting her. "Miss Rebecca… she not being happy to miss the master's wedding. Master Fogg needing to settle that with her before Miss Melody going back into study. Foggs have… very loud, vigorous talks. Miss Melody should not be attending such talks. Is for cousins."
"Yes," Jules said. "And you don't have to make any special arrangements for me. I am an old friend and have been a houseguest here often. Shall we go?"
"Oh," Melody had said, comprehending. It might be cowardly to run from the house at the first sign of trouble, but Melody wasn't feeling that brave just yet. Her cousin-in-law's unexpected arrival had her off balance.
"Yes, perhaps I should come with you then, to–see to the freshness of the strawberries. Wrong time of year for strawberries; it could take some time to find good ones."
Melody's dinner party the night before had gone very well. Toasts had been made to the bride and groom, and to the future Mr. and Mrs. Verne. Rebecca had been right about her cousin's response to the news of Verne's nuptials. The two men immediately planned a private pre and post wedding celebration to fill the next several evenings.
Rebecca, in deference to Jules, lest he sleep on the sofa, decided not to stay overnight. She also volunteered to come back the next day to clear the traditional mistress's room for Melody. "I see my permanent guestroom here may need to be rethought. I'll come back tomorrow with trunks."
Jules had tried to beg off from staying in a house with honeymooners, but Fogg would have none of it. He had already had Passepartout move Melody's things out of the guest room and into Rebecca's.
Later that night over drinks, several drinks, Phileas told Jules the bare facts, letting him know how their marriage had come about and Melody's plight. Jules didn't laugh out loud, but couldn't keep a grin off his face. His friend's discomfort with the situation had been all too clear. He had later shared his opinions with Passepartout privately in his room on the third floor. The two Frenchman had stayed up late, coming to their own conclusions on how the marriage came about.
Privately, both the French writer and valet were happy and hopeful for their friend. One look at Melody and Jules had no trouble believing Fogg had lost his head and heart at sea. One look at Melody in Fogg's company and Jules had no trouble believing that the girl loved him. Fogg, however, in typical English fashion, was refusing to accept it. The unanswered questions in both men's minds; did Fogg return her love now, and if not, would he return it later when his memories resurfaced?
The English were perverse about holding back their feelings. A Frenchman would have taken a more accepting approach to the situation. A Frenchman would have thanked his lucky stars he had the good luck to marry such a sweet natured beauty while mentally incapacitated. A Frenchman might have even gone to some trouble to take advantage of such good fortune, set about winning the lady anew.
But… stiff upper lip and all, an Englishman, a Phileas Fogg, would not take such a sensible route. Jules would keep silent, letting Fogg rediscover the full truth as he could. As Melody was an English woman, she would surely have the patience to deal with him.