Chapter 18: Chapter 18 – Seduce him with your charms…, if you got them

"I knew a guy named Blakely once," Kenneth began, without being asked anything. “He was a boy about my age, and I was about eleven or twelve years old at the time, working in the capital delivering newspapers and cleaning shoes. The poor devil only had, as relatives, a grandmother who was at odds with her father (with Blakely's father, not with the old woman's), so although she had her savings and a central apartment in London never wanted to share the good fortune with her grandson. To which she treated as another of her servants and did not bother to check whether or not he went to school, or if he ate at his time. Oh, on the street is where I met him, by the way. The thing is, Blakely was like a stray cat, he got used to that lifestyle. The service at the lady's house didn´t treat him well either, so he began to spend more time outside the apartment than inside. He left for days on end, he worked for a living and, when he was in great need, he was even capable of stealing.”

At this point in the story, the gardener glanced over at his companion, who was crouching beside the azaleas, busily removing the weeds. He didn't seem polite as to even look at him when recounting such an interesting anecdote, but Kenneth's desire to protest dissipated as Oscar, still without turning to him, spoke two words:

“Keep going.”

And boy did he continue!

“Well, as you can imagine, spending so much time in the streets allows one to meet the most diverse people. One of those Blakely met was Lieutenant Fiddler, a cop from a good family who was on the brink of retirement, married and without children. Anyway, what am I going to tell you? The thing is he caught Blakely in one of his robberies in a cafeteria and threatened to take him to the police station. Blakely told his life story and then… Ah, I'll summarize it for you. The thing is, Fiddler and his wife ended up adopting the boy! And he never, ever, ever had to go through miseries again.” After a deliberate pause for that ending to sink deep into his only listener, he inquired. “Now what do you think of this story?”

"What a soft heart this Fiddler must have," said Oscar without a hint of enthusiasm; Despite blurting out this sentence, he wasn't moved at all. “I imagine he would have put kids that age behind bars before, right?”

"No... yes, the truth is that he did. But it's not because of what you think! Fiddler wanted a son and Blakely's situation seemed regrettable, yes, but not because of that he adopted him. The thing is, Blakely had a gift for gambling and the lieutenant realized he could win good quarters if he let himself be guided. Therefore, he provided food and bed, while Blakely took care of the bets of the racecourse the other liked to attend.”

Oscar nodded in recognition, but said nothing.

"That is, my friend," the charlatan continued, "a deal from which both of them benefit. Both the poor and the rich. In this way the rich remain rich and the poor is a little less poor. To this day, Blakely has a thriving business in London.” Making certain that he still did not cause a reaction from Oscar, he instigated. “So, the same should happen to you and Mr. Northop. It's a give and take thing, right? Because these people who earn thousands of pounds a year don´t notice you with such an ugly salary unless you got some talent that can be of use to them.”

"Kenneth."

"Yes?" That reply was very quick, anxious as he was to nourish himself with new knowledge about the misadventures of others.

"I think I mentioned it before, but there are things I wouldn't tell you even if you were the last human being on Earth."

Oscar was already fed up with Kenneth's constant questions about Albert. The latter had been to blame, since on Sunday when returned he had turned a deaf ear to Oscar's request and left him almost at the gates of Lilac Hall. Kenneth saw it, and therefore had spent the next three days trying to get an explanation out of him.

Despite multiple refusals from Oscar to explain anything, Kenneth still didn't feel like giving up.

"That means I'll have to guess," he had said happily. "Are you friends? They say the Northops were always on good terms with the Cornells... At least in the past, now they don't hang out much anymore. But they´re still neighbors, so despite not talking much, they don't hate each other either. Oh, although the servants often say that there is a certain tension between the young man and the Cornell girls, that he´s very cold to them and if he can avoid them, he does. Do you think he´s in love with one of them?”

"It's hard for me to imagine."

The truth is that, aside from himself, Albert Northrop must have been the only character in that plot slop who disliked Madeleine and her company. That, from what Oscar had seen, was one of the things in the original novel that hadn't changed.

"But it makes sense!" Kenneth insisted. “Just imagine it, okay? A handsome cold and lonely heartthrob, too proud to establish a relationship with any lady... Not for lack of desire, of course, but for simple shyness and, although he doesn´t wanna admit it, fear of rejection. He locks himself in his own castle, away from society, with the excuse of dedicating his efforts completely to study, reflection and to take care that his little sister does not fall prey to the charms of some Don Juan. When, in secret, what he is doing is waiting for the propitious opportunity to woo the lady on duty and be able to take her to the altar.”

"Kenneth, you shouldn't read novels. It ravages the few grey cells that still work for you.”

"No, I hate reading, I hardly ever do it. I acquired my knowledge on the subject by spying on the girls the day they have their afternoon off and go out with their friends… But now that´s beside the point! I was telling you, Oscar, that it is certain something happened to Northrop with the Cornells, because that behavior is not normal with girls as serene and friendly as they say they are.”

"Don't you think Albert Northrop is a little too old to be courting Ms Cornell?"

Maybe Oscar was a little heavy on the issue of age, but he didn't think that something between two people who were at least six or seven years old would work. Not when one of those people was a teenager who was still unclear about her own future. And even less if she, in addition, possessed the immaturity of a girl of eleven.

"Of course not, she's the right age. And even better! Look, I have acquaintances in their late twenties and even thirty-odd who have married girls in their early twenties. It's normal, I tell you. What´s not so usual is when it comes to those old men over sixty looking for some pretty governess forty years younger. Although those go after inheritance, of course. A friend of a friend of mine met one of is...”

Kenneth stopped and Oscar thought that, at last, not only did the questions about Albert that initially occupied him disperse, but that he had also run out of rope. But he was wrong. Putting aside the flowers he had been replanting, and standing up, Kenneth exclaimed to the side that Oscar couldn´t see from his position:

"Miss, you can't be here!"

Then he took off his gloves and went to meet the aforementioned.

Oscar had a bad feeling and got up too, abandoning what he was doing for a moment. Turning around, he saw Kenneth give Madeleine a perhaps too warm welcome. She must have used some way to enter the property without passing in front of the facade and, thus avoiding being intercepted by someone from the service.

The fact she was there without running to bang on the front door to go see Patrick could only mean one thing.

"Oscar, how lucky I found you," Madeleine said as he saw her approaching, very slowly, as if there wasn´t any rush to have a talk. For a moment I thought I would have to confront that stiff butler of yours to bring me to you.

"I told you to wait to have news from me," said Oscar, referring to his last letter.

Letter to which, by the way, Madeleine responded just two days after receiving it. No hard feelings. Or so it seemed.

"I was going to write to tell you to wait for me this Sunday," he continued. “You shouldn't have come, if Kilduff finds out, we'll all be in trouble. Do you have a carriage outside? Then I´ll accompany you to the exit if you don´t have anything else to do inside the house.”

"Oscar, how rude you are!" Kenneth exclaimed in horror.

"Come on, we can talk while I walk you outside," Oscar said this to Madeleine, keeping her calm and ignoring the other; It was enough that one threw a tantrum, he didn´t need another person to attract the attention of the entire neighborhood.

"Well, you better be clear and tell me what I need to know," Madeleine warned him, allowing herself to be guided. “I had to run away from Miss Groves to come, so you must make it worthwhile.”

"At this time in the afternoon you still have classes?"

“No, but the fact is that mother went to visit some friends to agree on I don't know what matter of the parish; I think they want to form an association to handle the collection for the fair. Anyway, father is working inside his office… Oh, by the way, father! I don´t know what happens to him that when I mention you he said he doesn´t want to see you, what´s wrong with him? He always liked you…” When Madeleine got here, Oscar thought he should try to change the subject, but luckily, self-centered as she was, she did it herself without help. “But let's leave it, now the important thing! Tell me what I have to do to win Patrick!”

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They were already far enough away from Kenneth that he did not hear them, so Oscar lent himself to talk about the plan he had been hatching since he learned that Theresa should go to the fair.

“First of all, tell me something, do you plan to participate in the event organized by Patrick?”

“Obviously, yes! You didn't need to ask that, anyone would see this is the perfect opportunity to make someone as gentle and handsome as Captain Seymour's son notice me. If I were nothing else apart from a guest, I wouldn´t stand out. And you don't know how difficult it is to compete with the other girls in town! Hey, they're not as pretty or talented as I am, but you should see them when Patrick goes out for a walk. They stick to him like limpets. It´s shameful!”

"Well, at least we agree that you should participate with something," Oscar said, satisfied, not listening to the rest of the useless information that Madeleine had just dropped. “What did you have in mind?”

"I know Mrs. Chapman is the one doing the recruiting for the music shows and such. Sophia asked me if I wanted to join her with her puppet show, but that sounds like a kid´s thing to me. No man taller than two feet will notice me if I join in such a pantomime. So, I was thinking, I could sign up as a singer! I have a good repertoire and I know how to make myself heard.”

“Then, if you already have it so clear… Discard the idea.”

Oscar made this request with a sinister smile, which gave a lot of room for suspicion. No matter what Madeleine said, he would have told her to forget it anyway. He had asked what she had planned out of courtesy, so that she would notice his interest, and also so that it gave him the opportunity to introduce what he considered the infallible idea so that everyone would come out well of that inescapable holiday.

"I don't understand," Madeleine protested, "I haven't explained to you yet how he planned to do it and you already reject it. Do you want to help me or not?”

"Yes, yes, I'm going to help you. But that's not the way. I don´t doubt that you could have some success as a singer, because you don´t have a bad voice for it, even I am willing to admit. But there are countless girls with the same gift, do you think Patrick will notice you, among so many there are?” Before she could reply that she fully trusted her abilities, he continued. “No, of course not. Hearing you, Patrick may be impressed for the five minutes the song lasts, but then he will see someone dance, play the accordion, or recite part of a famous poem with professional perfection. And what will happen then? He´ll forget about you! No, it is better to play it safe.”

"What do you propose then? I'm not going to learn to play any weird instrument, I'm warning you. And you are not impressed with how I dance either, so...”

"No, I didn't mean to do any of that. Those are worldly attractions, whoever is fond of gambling and believes in good fortune would never be fooled by a lady who´s talented in any of these arts. I was thinking, rather, that you would set up your own post as a fortune teller.”

“Fortune teller? Me?” Madeleine raised an eyebrow in confusion. “But I don't know anything about divination!”

"Neither you nor anyone else, but that's a minor detail. After all, those who walk into a fortune teller's shop don´t want their future to be read, but rather to be told what they want to hear.”

"And you think Patrick would care about me if I did a good job of telling him what he wants to hear? I mean, of course I can do it, although it seems difficult.”

“Not quite. The fact that you dress up as a fortune teller, and don't put buts on me here, because it's critical that you wear a costume, is just to fulfill the main purpose of our little mission. And no, that purpose isn´t to make Patrick believe that you have a gift for divination, he should not recognize you when you are at your post.” Noting that Madeleine was getting impatient and opening her mouth to ask, Oscar proceeded to put some fantasies in her head to finish convincing her. “Imagine that you, in your role as fortune teller, tell Patrick that the love of his life is about to show up at the fair. Put him, somewhere nearby where not many people walk, such as the temple next to the stream that runs where the small forest of his farm begins. With how superstitious and naive he is about these things, he´ll sure believe it ... And you could be the one who later, already dressed in your formal clothes, is the one who meets him there.”

Madeleine's face lit up when she heard that:

"Do you think it will work?" Before the other could affirm it reliably, she continued. “I'm not overly enthusiastic about dressing up as a filthy fortune teller, but if you say it would work, I can make the sacrifice!”

"Of course, yes. But I think we should still give Patrick a nudge into believing in a fortune teller, just in case. I´m not doubting your acting skills, of course, it would be to have an assurance that, whatever happens, he´ll do what the fortune teller advises him.”

"I could meet him and summon him to the stage before I disguise myself as a fortune-teller, so he understands that we were predestined!"

"No, that´s too bold."

You'd scare him, Oscar thought to add, but instead he proceeded to suggest:

"Why don't you write him a love letter? Then we could arrange to put it in his jacket pocket during the fair, so he can find it before he goes to see her fortune teller.”

"That will certainly work! When Patrick sees my name at the end of the letter, finally...”

"The letter must be anonymous," Oscar said curtly.

"What do you mean anonymous?"

"It wouldn't make sense if it wasn't."

Again, it would scare him. And that didn´t suit either of them, one in her eagerness to fish for a rich husband and the other in his eagerness to keep Theresa away from a pedophile who at that moment only had eyes for her.

"Don't worry, you're meeting him at the temple anyway, right? If you add the false prediction to that, there is nothing that can go wrong,” he reassured her. “I'll stop by Rose Cottage on Sunday to finalize the details of the position and see how you handle the letter.”

"By the way... should I write it? I don't know if I can, I've never been good at poetry, what if I can't impress him? Maybe you should copy a poem from one of those boring books Miss Groves often reads.”

"No frills, please, stop doing poems and just write what you feel."

If you can feel something, of course.

"Try writing something in prose, if you don't have it by Sunday, I'll help you with that too."

Hearing this, Madeleine was relieved. It seemed that she had just regained the favor of a friend very dear to her. And that is why she didn´t not hesitate to thank him for what he was doing in favor of her illustrious cause, even trying to give him a hug and several kisses that Oscar, defensive as he was whenever he was in the company of the protagonist, dodged.

With everything planned, they headed to the exit of the enclosure, turning a corner and thus leaving the field of vision of someone who was still spending his time observing them.

"So that was it…" Kenneth had muttered to himself; He hadn't been able to hear anything those two had said to each other, but he had seen it all... Even the loving gestures at the end. “Albert Northrop must be in love with Madeleine, but Madeleine is in love with Oscar. What a mess! Now Mr Northrop is probably trying to get his rival to give up, and if he doesn't, he will challenge him to a duel. Yes, that's the usual way for a gentleman… I hope Oscar´s good with a sword!”

 

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