The Edwards sisters wouldn’t approve of my color choice, but I didn’t quite care. I’d attended three more of Aunt Amelia’s royale teas, and though they weren’t as bad as I’d originally anticipated, it left less time for sleuthing.
“Anyway. It’s been nearly two weeks since Uncle was arrested,” I said. Neither Thomas nor I had found a scrap of information to exonerate him. “I’ll be dressed in the color of mourning until he’s freed, and I don’t care if it’s fashionable or not.”
Nathaniel sighed. “I suppose it works well enough for Her Royal Highness. If even the city of London refuses to be anything other than gray and dreary all the time, you might as well act the same.”
Blessedly, Aunt Amelia and Liza came down the stairs, looking resplendent in hues of emerald and turquoise, the precise color palette Victoria decided on during our last tea. Nathaniel bowed to them. “Good evening, Aunt, Cousin. You’re both visions.”
“You are too kind, Nephew,” Aunt Amelia replied, feigning humility. “Thank you.”
Liza came over and kissed my cheek, shaking her head ever so slightly.
“Your eyes look stunning this evening,” she said, looping her arm through mine, completely ignoring the drab color I was in. “I’m so pleased you’ve taken to the kohl. Thomas Cresswell certainly must be in love. Has he commented on it?”
I thought on our meetings. Thomas pretended to be more arrogant lately, commenting on how I’d made an effort for him. But then I’d catch him staring, as if he were trying to deduce and was unsuccessful for the first time. He wasn’t sure if I truly was doing it to entice his affections or for my own purposes, and I suspected it drove him mad.
Before I answered, Aunt Amelia waved the question away like a pesky gnat. “What does it matter? That boy won’t amount to anything in society. His family name might be good, but he’s destroyed any decent prospects. Audrey Rose has other, more accomplished suitors coming her way. Come, Liza.” She tossed her shawl about her shoulders and headed down the corridor. “We’ll see you both at the circus.”
“See you there.” My brother gripped a letter in his hand, crinkling its edges before smoothing it on his pressed pant leg. He reached for his comb but thought better of it. Thank goodness. I was certain if he touched one more strand of hair it’d run away, screaming in protest. The image almost made me smile before I caught myself.
“Are you certain you don’t want to change? I thought you were excited for the circus,” he said, defeated. “All you talked about for the last several months were the curiosities, menageries—and what of Jumbo? Poor chap’s finally coming home and you’re greeting him wearing the color of death? What kind of miserable welcome is that for an elephant who’s traveled half the world? Aunt Amelia and Liza look like precious stones, while you’re making your best coal impersonation. It simply isn’t right.”
He paced the parlor, hands twitching at his sides. “I’ve got it! How about we dress you in that horse costume? What was it called? ‘The Devil’s Auction,’ or something equally charming?”
I wanted to smile but couldn’t quite bring myself to do it convincingly. Months ago I cared about things like three-ring stages and larger-than-life elephants. I’d even laughed about the postcard we’d found with the strange horse-head-wearing performer.
“There are unsolved murders, and Uncle is being held under suspicion,” I said. “Now isn’t the time for levity.”
“Yes, yes. He along with a slew of other questionable characters,” Nathaniel said. “According to the papers, Scotland Yard’s throwing any person in a cell until their innocence can be proven irrevocably or until someone more frightening comes about. Uncle will have this sorted out, and you’ll have wasted time moping for nothing.”
“I’d hardly consider proving his innocence a waste of time.” Why police refused to let Uncle out of the asylum, I hadn’t a clue. Nathaniel was right: Uncle certainly wasn’t the only one being charged with the crimes. “News sources are something else entirely. I can’t believe you’re reading any of it.”
I’d never seen such sensationalist rubbish strewn across every cover. Reporters couldn’t get their fill of Leather Apron. They were creating a star out of a madman; glorifying a villain. The lengths people went through to sell a paper was nearly as disgusting as the crimes themselves.
“Awful though they may be, the papers offer some amusement, Sister.”
“Honestly,” I said. “The whole thing sours my stomach. Why turn a murderer of women into front-page news? I feel sorry for their poor families.”
That was enough dabbling in the strange and wonderful for me, thank you kindly. I needn’t waste time on distractions.
Nathaniel, however, was on a personal mission over the last twelve days to yank me from the depths of my despair. His answer to my troubles came in the form of two tickets to the “Greatest Show on Earth.” Protestations fell upon deaf ears, so I relented.
He’d had a disturbing amount of fabric brought over last week in the hope that a new, colorful frock would chase all the dark clouds away. If only life’s problems could be solved with a frilly dress and a pair of slippers. To hell with the world around us, so long as we looked our best.
“Let’s be on our way, then,” Nathaniel said, checking the grandfather clock. I followed him to the hansom cab, allowing the coachman to help me inside this time, relieved we were taking the fastest means of transportation we owned.
I sat in an inky puddle of expensive silks, rearranging my skirts to make room for my brother in the small carriage, my mind churning with different angles to study the case from.
Nathaniel sat beside me, looking like a child whose favorite toy had gone missing. I was a wretch of a sister. Here I was all wrapped up in my own mind, selfishly ignoring the people who were still very much present in my life.
“You know”—I squeezed his hand—“I’m getting rather excited about the circus after all.”
Nathaniel beamed, and I felt mildly redeemed in the court of good deeds, even if I’d lied to get there.
The Olympia was one of the most magnificent buildings in the kingdom; it rivaled even the palace in its splendor and sheer magnitude.
“Look. There it is,” Nathaniel said, pointing toward the building.
As our carriage pulled up to the enormous stone and iron compound, I watched a train chug by, puffing white clouds into the atmosphere in dizzying intervals.
Steam was a fascinating source of power; so readily available and used in so many varying applications. I thought again of Father’s unique drawings of old toys and war contraptions. They could be on display all across London, perhaps even in the menagerie here tonight, for hundreds of people to marvel at.
That was, if he hadn’t stopped making them.
The last train car screeched by and we were off again, making our way to the Olympia’s front entrance. People filed in four at a time, all but fighting to catch the first glimpse of the “Greatest Show on Earth.”
“Your friends are over there,” Nathaniel said. I caught sight of Victoria and her flock of emerald-colored parrots scanning the crowd, but luckily they disappeared into the building without seeing me.
“Shame we missed them,” I said. I hoped to avoid them as much as possible this evening. I liked them well enough but wanted to enjoy time alone with my brother.
Taking our coachman’s hand, I hopped down from the carriage, my heels catching in the cobblestones as I made my way to the line.
“Do you smell that?” I asked. “Reminds me of Grandmama’s home.”
Spicy sweet incense wafted over the crowd, spilling out through the arched doorway, filling the warm night air with sultry richness. Against my better judgment, my heart joined the mayhem, soaring between my ribs as if it were one of the pretty ladies on the flying trapeze. Giving into childlike wonder, I grabbed my brother’s hand, dragging him through large doors and into the grandest room in the world.
Once inside, I slowly spun in place, my focus riveted on the domed ceiling.