Celine didn’t believe in fortune-telling, in any case. She considered palm reading, card reading, or crystal gazing the height of nonsense. The spirits communicate directly through me—when they wish to, she’d say. I can’t call them with cards or by looking at the lines on someone’s hand. They scoff at that.
However, Celine was not averse to Violet earning some coin by her skill. As attached to the spirit world as she was, Celine did have a practical side.
“I can’t,” Violet said, barely able to utter the words. “Mary, I just can’t. I’m so tired.”
“But we need the money, miss.”
“I think we should leave here,” Violet murmured wearily. “Go somewhere we’ve never been before.” Somewhere Daniel and his fashionable friends were not likely to follow. “Canada, perhaps. I’ve heard Montreal is a fine city. We can speak French there.”
Mary shook her head. “You know Madame will never travel that far over the sea.” She came to the bed, straightening and smoothing Violet’s covers. “And our contract at the theatre is until the end of the month. We have to live here at least until then.” Mary, dark haired, plain faced, kind, and practical, always said what needed to be said.
“I know, blast it.”
Violet closed her eyes. She saw again the French countryside unrolling before her under the balloon, heard the sound of wind in the ropes and the hiss of Daniel’s machine, smelled the scent of the sky, and felt the warmth of Daniel beside her.
Life and its petty troubles flowed away behind her. Aloft over the world, she could be Violet, not the fake Princess Ivanova, or Mademoiselle Bastien, or any of the other personas she’d invented in her life.
Up in the balloon, Violet had been no one but herself, someone she hadn’t been in a long, long time. Whatever else he’d done, Daniel had given that to her.
“When we’re finished with the contract, we can go,” Mary was saying. She patted Violet’s knee through the blanket. “Someplace nice. Maybe a spa town in Germany. Those are always pretty.”
Violet opened her eyes, the sanctuary of her vision fleeing. “Thank you for trying to comfort me, Mary. Tell Mama I’ll do the job.”
If Violet could rise from her bed. The images of the balloon flight vanished, and she again felt the horror of Monsieur Lanier’s hands on her, the sting of his slap on her cheek. Then the kick to the gut when she’d seen Daniel climb into the coach with the courtesan, he smiling at her the same way he’d smiled at Violet.
No other man in her life had made Violet feel completely valued for herself alone. She’d sworn that Daniel had seen through her, all the way to the shivering pieces of her soul. And he hadn’t turned away in disgust, hadn’t treated her like the whore Monsieur Lanier assumed her to be.
Daniel had treated her like a friend.
“Miss?” Mary asked, worry in her voice.
Violet opened her eyes again and sighed. “I’ll do it,” she said in a dull voice. “Fetch my costume and help me dress.”
Daniel spent his day with Richard Mason. While Daniel breakfasted with his family in their suite, Simon had brought a message from Richard, who’d pitifully begged Daniel to come see him.
Daniel found Richard in elegant rooms at another hotel, in bed, feverish, hungover, and despondent. Richard expected Daniel to settle in for the day, reading newspapers and lamenting on the state of the world, sharing whiskey until Richard felt better.
Daniel was impatient with tending him today, wanting a chance to return to Violet. His time with her hadn’t been nearly long enough yet. He needed more of her.
But Richard was in a bad way, and so unhappy that Daniel stayed. Daniel suspected something else was wrong with the man besides a hangover and too much debauchery. Richard didn’t say, but he was tired and moody, and the edge had gone from his razor-keen mind. Daniel realized what was the matter before he departed later in the afternoon—Richard was syphilitic.
“You need to tell the woman you were with last night,” Daniel said, stubbing out his last cigar and rising to leave.
Richard looked at him in surprise. “Tell her what?”
“About your affliction. Only fair she knows.”
“What?” Richard stared, flushing.
“And get treatment. Doctors are brilliant nowadays. There’s a man in Munich, Doktor Schauman. He’s intelligent and will actually heal you, not give you a quack cure. Tell him I sent you.”
Richard remained openmouthed, color deepening through his skin. “He treated you?”
“No.” Daniel had been wise enough to avoid the affliction. “He’s a friend. He’s working on cures for many dreadful diseases, including this one. Just trust me, lad. Go. And when ye’ve done and can speak like the reasonable human being ye once were, look me up.”
“Right.” Richard sank back into his chair, his eyes too bright. Sad waste of a man. “Thank you, Danny. You’re a friend. Not a word of this to anyone?”
“Of course not.” Daniel took his hat and coat from a servant who looked relieved Daniel had talked some sense into his master, and departed.
He walked back to his hotel deep in thought. Cameron, he realized, had worried that Daniel would turn out like Richard. Dissipated, ill, broken at a young age. Daniel had given his father plenty of reason to worry—he’d been more interested in cards, ladies, and drink than studies, and had more than once run away from school to pursue decadent pleasures.
But Daniel had been reacting to Cameron’s habit of sending him off to his uncles or tutors while Cameron disappeared with his women. Daniel had always supposed his father was pushing him away, not wanting the bother of his son.
Daniel understood more charitably now that Cameron had feared himself to be a bad father, that Daniel might turn out just like him if they spent too much time together. Cameron had been a womanizer and a drinker, devoted to nothing but his own pleasure. The only things that had saved Cam from being completely dissipated were his love for his horses, which he cared for meticulously, and his son, whom he loved but didn’t know how to.
Poor Dad. I gave him hell, didn’t I?
When Daniel reached the hotel, he stopped at his father’s suite. A servant let him in, and Cameron turned from the fireplace, where he’d been enjoying a cigar.
“Good, Daniel, I’ve been meaning to ask you—”
Cameron broke off in surprise when Daniel put his arms around his father and pulled the larger man into a hard embrace.