Page 56

“If only we could grow so nice and round,” Zaya sighed disconsolately. “Then we, too, would have coins falling upon us like rain.”

“Of a certainty, that is what men desire,” Ema said, nodding her head. “Very fat concubines. Only see the way their eyes stand out on stalks when they behold Salome.”

“She is not fat precisely,” Lizzie objected. “Her waist is really quite trim. It is just her hips and thighs and …” she trailed off wanting to avoid mentioning anything indelicate.

“Her mountainous bosom,” Ema supplied helpfully. “When she is in her corset, it juts out like the prow of ship.” She made gestures with her hands in front of her chest that made Lizzie hurriedly avert her eyes.

“Yes,” her sister concurred. “They bring many food offerings to maintain her abundance. They do not want her to lose one ounce of plentiful flesh.”

Lizzie’s eye wandered over the vast quantities of chocolate boxes and cream cakes in beribboned boxes left as daily tribute to Miss Wurtzel. Every day her brother was forced to gather them up and carry them back to their quarters.

“She really does look like a classical Venus,” Lizzie murmured more to herself than anyone else. Whereas Zaya and Ema were very much like delicate nymphs.

“Where is brother Wurtzel?” Niamh asked humorously. “You noticed how neither one of them stick around to help us tidy away?” She pulled a face. “Must be nice,” she added sourly, “to be the star turn.”

“Or the star turn’s brother,” Ema pointed out.

“Or not!” Zaya put in spiritedly. “One time, I see him pinch her buttock, like this,” she said making a pincer gesture and nipping Lizzie’s backside.

“Zaya!” Lizzie protested scooting out of the way. The twins laughed heartily.

“But he could just be checking she is not losing flesh,” Ema pointed out once she had wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes. “If she were to lose her mighty thighs and buttocks, then they will lose many coins.”

Her sister nodded in solemn agreement. Lizzie coughed, thinking she should steer the conversation away from the subject of mighty buttocks.

“Apparently, in her last act, she emerged from a chrysalis like a great big butterfly in the Turkish tent at Vauxhall Gardens,” said Niamh. “Nude of course. At that time, her protector was a royal duke, they say.”

“Protector?” Lizzie repeated.

“She was warming his bed,” Niamh explained.

Lizzie tried not to look as scandalized as she felt. “But surely her brother Mr. Wurtzel would have objected to such an arrangement?”

“Lord, he ain’t preserving her morals, Lizzie. Even if he is her brother, which I don’t believe for one minute, he lives off her immoral earnings! Course he does!”

They all fell silent as the tent flap drew back and Mr. Wurtzel stalked in and started gathering up his sister’s bags and boxes of treats. He looked to be in something of a bad mood.

“Probably he been gambling,” Ema whispered as Lizzie slammed the trunk shut and pulled her own bonnet over her head. “I know that look!”

Lizzie donned the black cloak and looked around for Sebastian. The dog was sat aloof in one corner. Lizzie called him and he came toward her, carefully skirting the twins’ clinging embraces. Sebastian was no lapdog and seemed to endure acts of affection rather than enjoying them. For the most part, he was happy merely to be in Lizzie’s vicinity and keep a watchful eye on her.

She touched a hand fleetingly to his head. “Come, Sebastian.”

“Enjoy yourself tonight, Lizzie!” Niamh called after her.

“Make sure you stand up for all the dances!” cried Ema.

“Goodbye, Sebastian darling!” chimed in Zaya.

Lizzie gave them a wave and hurried out, thinking of how long it would take her to sew her new finery onto her green gown. Now she had Sebastian to accompany her, Benedict had agreed she could make her way back to the entertainer’s camp field by herself and he would meet her there when he was ready.

Lizzie did not bother with a fire, but instead shook out her best dress and sat on the step to the wagon pinning the lace and embellishments to the neckline and bodice. Sebastian settled beneath her dangling feet and did not stir until nearly an hour later when Benedict appeared with a bagful of meat bones for him.

He leaned down and kissed Lizzie briefly on the lips, startling her greatly.

“How’s it going?” he asked, glancing at her dress.

“Fine,” Lizzie answered, ducking her head to hide her reaction to his spontaneous affection. “Where did you get the bones?”