She listened to the voices. They were too indistinct for Jane to be certain who had arrived, but she had hopes. She turned to Louisa. “Would you see who that is?”
Louisa curtsied. “Yes, madam.”
Jane straightened her papers, trying to put them into some order in case it was Nkiruka. After a few moments, Louisa returned to stand at the door, letting her annoyance show clearly as she said, “Mrs. Nkiruka Chinwe of Greycroft and her daughter, Mrs. Avril.”
With great ceremony, Nkiruka stepped into the doorway, wearing the new calico dress Jane had given her. Her gaze wandered over the room, taking in the furniture, the rugs, the gilt frames, and the crystal decanter of lime juice that sat, sweating, on the side table. She finished with a little smile at Jane, and gave an excessively formal curtsy. She could not quite mask her laughter as she declared, “I am delighted to call upon you, Mrs. Hamilton.” Then the laughter broke forth in earnest. “Eh! Who’da thought I would be here? Come, girl.”
To Jane’s very great surprise, Amey walked into the parlour. The new calico dress had been made large enough to accommodate her stomach, but she was still clearly heavy with child.
“Amey! What a delightful surprise.”
“Mammy thought I might help with translation. Mr. Pridmore said I could do this instead of my other work.”
“Your other…” Jane faltered, staring at Amey’s stomach. In England, Amey would already be in confinement, awaiting her lying-in. “Well, then I have more than one reason to be pleased.” Jane started to push herself to her feet, keeping one hand firmly on the table in the event that her dizziness returned.
Nkiruka waved her hand and bustled across the room. “No, no. We heard ’bout what happen with you. Sit, sit. Don’t stand for us.” She winked. “Besides. People laugh, you stand for slaves.”
“Oh—I…” Jane kept thinking of Nkiruka and Amey as she would her father’s tenants. People who, while not her equal in social station, were free and deserved her respect with all the correct social forms. That the field labourers with whom she now spoke were enslaved … Jane had difficulty not only reconciling herself to their status but even knowing the correct manner in which to interact with them. It was one thing to speak of abolition in England, where the talk was abstract. In some regards, the etiquette of speaking to the house slaves was easier for Jane to understand because it differed so little from the way one spoke to servants in England. At least, it differed little on the surface. She sighed. “Well, I have invited you here as a fellow glamourist. Please, have a seat. May I offer you some lime juice?”
Nkiruka drew out a chair, dropping into it without hesitation. “Thank you.”
Amey looked past Jane’s head. Her gaze narrowed before she lifted her chin and lowered her gravid form onto the cane seat.
Jane glanced back at Louisa, who was glaring at the other woman. Jane cleared her throat. Louisa’s gaze dropped as though she had been burnt and she poured glasses of cool juice for each of the women.
Small talk seemed quite out of the question, so Jane pulled the papers forward. In all likelihood, the surest way to set Amey at ease would be the same trick which she used with Vincent: a discussion of glamour. “I thought that we might talk today about how one begins training in glamour in England, and you could tell me about how the training occurs in Africa.”
Nkiruka shrugged further into her seat. “Only Igbo way. Dolly, she do glamour different from me. You interested? Give you list of people to talk with. Bring them here. They show all different ways.”
Jane nearly shivered with delight at the thought of so many different variations to explore. If only she could see what they were doing directly. For now, she would write the rudiments down. Then, after her confinement, when she could actually practise glamour again, she could discuss more advanced techniques. “That would be lovely, thank you. Meanwhile, with your help, we might settle upon a common vocabulary. Amey, may I ask you to tell me about how you learned glamour?”
“Mammy teach me, early enough I don’ remember no knowing. Then I was sent to the coldmonger’s factory for a time.”
“Coldmongering? Truly?” Jane was all astonishment. “In England, only young men or boys learn to coldmonger. It is widely accounted too dangerous for young women. Or will you assert that it is as harmless as working glamour while with child?”
Amey cocked her head with a grimace. “No. It hard on the body. Mostly it was boys with a twisted body, or man that get damage in the field. Some girls got send too, so they could do coldmongering as lady’s maids.”