“Didn’t I tell you to clean this?” Iolanthe pointed to the hearth.
“Yes, Miss Evangeline.” Mala nodded vigorously.
“Well, then, why didn’t you do it?” Iolanthe asked, raising her hand up behind her head as if she was preparing to slap Mala.
Mala flinched.
Iolanthe chuckled and lowered her hand. “Just clean it up.”
“Yes.” Mala nodded again as she hurried over t the hearth, she glanced over her shoulder at Iolanthe.
“What are you lookin’ at?” Iolanthe hissed.
“I’m just checkin’ on you, Miss.” Mala whispered.
“You do care about me. Don’t you, Mala? Even inasmuch as it’s just because my mood dictates your level of comfort. But, still, you do care.”
Mala grunted.
“I know I seem out-of-sorts.” Iolanthe sighed. “Believe it or not, Mala, I’m not quite sure what to do. This girl—this Ulrika—she’s more of a problem than I’d anticipated. I didn’t think she had it in her, but she’s a force, that one.”
“Yes, Miss.” Mala nodded as she swept the hearth.
“I’ve got to get that diamond back.” Iolanthe growled.
“Maybe I can help, Miss.” Mala turned around, smiling.
“You?” Iolanthe raised her eyebrows.
“You never know, Miss Evangeline, sometimes the best things come in the ugliest of packages.” Mala winked.
Meanwhile, in the parlor of Dr. Biamenti’s Royal Street house, Robert narrowed his eyes at Charles Van Eyck.
“Well?” Robert demanded.
“Sir, are you implying that I’ve forged my letters of reference?” Charles asked.
“I’m not implying it.” Robert shook his head, “I’m saying it outright.”
“Robert, why are you asking such a thing?” Adrienne asked.
“This writing is not the hand of a gentleman, and it’s certainly not the hand of a doctor. This is a woman’s handwriting. Now, Charles, if you had suggested that this a letter from Miss Harelda, then, I’d have believed you. You see, this is the penmanship of an educated woman. Who helped you write this?” Robert asked.
“Sir, I can explain.” Charles said nervously.
“I think you’d best start.” Cecil interrupted.
“You’re correct, Dr. Halifax, my letters are forgeries.”
“Why?” Adrienne chirped.
“I wanted this job, you see.” Charles answered honestly.
“So, you had someone forge your references?” Robert shook his head.
“Not just someone, Sir.” Charles replied. “But, the person who told me of the position in the first place.”
“I thought you’d heard about the opening from ‘servant gossip.’” Cecil barked.
“This is not the handwriting of a servant.” Robert spat.
“No, Sir.” Charles nodded. “Not exactly.”
“Well?” Robert demanded.
“Sir, it’s the handwriting of a lady. Barbara, Lady Fallbridge, to be exact.”
Did you miss Chapters 1-175? If so, you can read them here.
2 comments:
It surely is nice to see the Ogress under stress but all that means is that there's possibly a more formidable force. What a threesome Iolanthe, Ulrika and Marie Laveau make! If they were to join together, Hurricane Katrina would look like a sigh.
Yes, she's most definitely in the category of "formidable." I like the image of the three of them as being hurricane-like. Thanks for reading!
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