Ex Pluribus Ego, Chapter Two

[imaginarystories]

"Unpacking may wait," Carrie Genoise announced. She put her feet up on a wooden stool and leaned back in her chair. Inhaling gently on her cigarette, she blew a puff of smoke out the open window.

The bedroom wasn't particularly large, but it was comfortably furnished and well lit with windows facing south and east. Carrie had claimed it as her own immediately for those two windows. Now she sat in the sun, soaking up the warmth through her dark clothes. Carrie had a few odds and ends unpacked on her bed, with her trunk and bags on the floor. Blond Isabel Perkins stood by the foot of the bed, studying the pictures Carrie had already fixed on the freshly painted wall.

"Are these all Christmas pictures?"

Sending another puff out the window, Carrie allowed herself a slight smile. "Beautiful, aren't they? Clean and quiet. All those years growing up in the brothel, these were my one escape. I'd lay in bed looking at pictures such as these, listening to the noises from below. I'd dream of sleigh rides, and warm fires, and kind families."

Looking over at Carrie, Miss Perkins half-smiled at the young woman. Carrie sighed happily. "I'd kill again for just one Christmas like that."

The half-smile vanished. "'Again'?"

Carrie matched Miss Perkin's worried gaze with a glare. "Why in the world should I repeat myself? I'm certain you heard me the first time."

"No, you said — "

 

A loud rapping from the outer door cut Miss Perkins off. Carrie quickly snuffed her cigarette out on the side of the room's small heating stove, then tossed the cigarette into the firebox. "That must be Mrs Duster. Delay her, will you? I'll be right out."

Miss Perkins huffed, but went out into the sitting room. Grabbing her cup of mint tea from the window sill, Carrie sloshed a bit around in her mouth and then swallowed. She repeated that twice more, then put on a smile that didn't reach her eyes. After a second of effort the corners of her eyes crinkled, and Carrie followed Mrs Perkins into the sitting room.

The large room had a couch a two comfortable chairs, and soft mulberry walls that complemented the leaf green and violet furnishings. Windows on the south and west let in Spring air and sun. It was the largest suite in Mrs Duster's boarding house, with two bedrooms and a water closet along the east side. Carrie had insisted on a set of rooms large enough to host meetings.

"Ah, Mrs Duster. How delightful to see you again. I must say, these rooms are lovely."

"Why thank you, Miss Genoise," replied the stout landlady. "I hate to seem rude, but do I smell cigarette smoke?"

"Yes, unfortunately. I appreciate you airing out the rooms before our arrival, but sadly some lout on the street chose to smoke directly beneath my bedroom. That is of course no fault of yours."

"Terrible manners men have these days. I blame the war."

"I absolutely agree."

Mrs Duster handed a card to Carrie. "There's a gentleman downstairs by the name of Mr Cream. He says you called for him."

"My clerk. Educated at Harvard, employed at a large firm in Washington until the siege. I realize it is unusual, but please do show him in. These are matters pertaining to my new office, and should not be discussed in an open sitting room."

"Ye-es." The landlady frowned. "I know we discussed this by telegram, but I'm worried."

"Understandable but unnecessary. Although I have not yet met the gentleman in person, his references are excellent and his family in Boston even more so."

Still frowning, the landlady left to show the guest up to the suite. Carrie closed the door behind Mrs Duster and spoke quickly to Miss Perkins.

"This Cream fellow is a perfect fool. The firm in Washington was engaged in spying for the traitors. Cream was the only lawyer at the firm to escape imprisonment or hanging, being found by a judge to be too thick-skulled to recognize what was going on under his nose."

"Why did you hire him?"

"Because he's absolutely desperate for employment, and thus the only man with a legal education willing to work for me. And while I have read McGuffey's Readers through to the sixth book, and thoroughly enjoyed the Young Algebraist's Companion among other works of mathematics, I must admit I neglected my civics. I refuse to make a fool of myself in the House of Representatives, and so I must hire advice."

Someone rapped at the door. Carrie gripped the handle and glared at Miss Perkins.

"Be stern, Miss Perkins. Above all, be stern. He must be put immediately in his place, lest he think he can run roughshod over his delicate female employer."

"Not to worry. No man will think of you as delicate."

Ignoring the plump woman's comment, Carrie fixed a steel-hard expression on her face and opened the door. Radiating stern resolve, she said "Mr Cream, I pres — "

The steel melted. Eyes wide in shock, Carrie looked up. "Oh."

The young man bowed. "Good morning. I'm C. Cabot Cream. Are you my employer?"

"Yes. Come in."

Ducking under the low door frame, Mr Cabot entered the room. Carrie Genoise, two inches taller than most men, gazed up. He stood a solid six inches taller than her and broad across the shoulders. Behind his gold-rimmed glasses his eyes were a deep green. The dark-haired and firm-jawed man looked down on Carrie and smiled.

"I'm honoured to finally see you in person, Miss Genoise. I've read all your speeches, and I've been looking forward to meeting the fine mind behind those words."

"Fine? Really? Oh, I..."

"Forgive me for being forward, but you look, um, much younger than the papers lead me to expect."

Carrie smiled shyly, her eyelashes fluttering. "I find, Mr Cream, that men are poor judges of a lady's age." Her tone began at stern, then switched abruptly to coy. "And you shall find that I am not easily moved by flattery."

"Uh huh," Miss Perkins said.

Mr Cream nodded politely and handed Carrie a small bundle of envelopes. "Thank you for seeing me without notice, Miss Genoise. This is the official mail delivered to your office."

"It's my pleasure, Mr Cream. Oh, and this person is my companion, Miss Perkins. She may leave."

Miss Perkins did not leave. Instead she settled into a comfortable chair to watch.

"Good morning, Miss Perkins," said Mr Cream, bowing politely. "I'm afraid I can't stay, Miss Genoise. I only came by to deliver your correspondence. I'm making arrangments with the law firm you suggested, and I expect a telegram soon. Excellent choice, by the way."

"Why thank, Mr Cream. You." Carrie inhaled deeply, straining several buttons. As she exhaled she forced her face into a calm expression, betrayed only by a slight wideness of her eyes. Pulling back her shoulders and clasping her hands in front of her, she spoke firmly. "No doubt there are requests to meet with me. For those that seem worthwhile, you may arrange meetings between nine and five o'clock tomorrow."

"Actually, there's just the two. One from Mrs Sojourner Truth. She's in Princeton to speak to the Anti-Slavery Society. And the other from Mr Pye of the Rational Site Caucus."

"Which caucus?"

"Group of two or three hopeless types, all first-timers in Congress. Instead of picking a major city or building an entirely new capital, they want to make New Haven the centre of the new capitol district."

Carrie mouthed a silent 'oh'. "New Haven... Connecticut?"

"That's the place."

"Truly?"

"Yes. Like I said, hopeless."

"Arrange a meeting with them first thing tomorrow morning. Followed by Mrs Truth, I suppose. And while you're at it ask them to send me a list of all their major opponents."

"Right away, Miss Genoise. Getting the Rational Site Caucus out of the way will allow more time to meet with Mrs Truth. Very shrewd."

"Thank you, Mr Cream. You may have an extra half-eagle for your troubles. Are you sure I can't offer you refreshments?"

Pulling her change-purse out of her skirt pocket, Carrie ignored Mr Cream's protest and handed him a gold five-dollar coin. "Nonsense, Mr Cream. The telegraph will have cost you something, and as your employer I must cover expenses. And even arriving only this morning I have seen how prices in Princeton have risen. No doubt your lodgings cost more than anticipated."

Mr Cream nudged his thick glasses up his nose. "Yes, that's true. Princeton isn't large enough for Congress plus all their clerks and aides. I'm lucky that I only have two roommates. Some unlucky men are living in tents."

"Please do tell me if your current lodgings are inadequate. Perhaps we can make an arrangement."

An extremely unladylike snort came from Miss Perkins.

"Thank you, Miss Genoise. I'll bear that in mind. Please excuse me though, I need to see about that telegram."

"Of course." Carrie escorted Mr Cream through the door. "Thank you for your diligence, Mr Cream. I look forward to seeing you again very soon."

The door closed gently. Snatching her hand back as though the doorknob was hot, Carrie looked over to Miss Perkins. Her wide-eyed panicked expression was matched by an incoherent rattling hiss of shock.

Miss Perkins nodded. "So. One of those girls."

"I don't know what happened! Was that simpering? Did I simper? I've never done that before in my life. I didn't know I could!"

Carrie snapped her shoulders back and her chin up. She spoke in a quick angry voice. "You shall forget everything you have seen just now."

"Shall not." Miss Perkins smiled. "He's right though, you do look very young. Your complexion is so fine."

"The sun is the devil's blast furnace. I avoid its unhealthful rays."

"Do you sleep in a grave as well?"

Sneering at Miss Perkins, Carrie stomped back to her room. "I need a cigarette. I don't care what Mrs Duster's interfering nose detects."

"What are you going to do about that man?" Miss Perkins followed Carrie into her room. "You can't keep throwing yourself or your money at him."

"Never mind," snapped Carrie. She crouched next to the stove and fished around behind it for her packet of rolled cigarettes. "I shall think of something. Perhaps I'll find an excuse to let him go. I shall not demean myself again, and you shall not mention this incident again."

Crossing her arms, Miss Perkins leaned against the windowsill as she watched Carrie. "I'll let it go."

Cigarette and matches case in hand, Carrie came over to the open window. Standing next to Miss Perkins she looked down on the street. Something below attracted her attention, and Carrie looked down onto the sidewalk.

"That's Mr Trifle skulking about, the reporter from the World. He must know this is my building, but I wonder if he knows this is my window."

Sliding off the window sill, Miss Perkins looked out. "Are you sure it's him?"

"Yes, I'd know him anywhere. He's the fine fellow who described me in an article as 'heaving magnificently' during a speech. That whole 'Mount of Manhattan' business came from him, although I heard that his editor forced him to change it from the plural. Step away from the window, will you?"

Carrie opened the container and pulled out a parlour match. With the grim expression of a sharpshooter taking aim, she struck the match against the container.

Miss Perkins moved back, watching Carrie and the flaring match with suspicion. "What are you doing?"

"Aiming for his hat."

A yelp of pain rose up from the street.

"Ah, right down the collar."

Another knock at the outer door interrupted them. Swearing, Carrie stuck the cigarette and match case in her pocket. Not bothering to fix the smile to her eyes, Carrie followed Miss Perkins back into the sitting room.

"I wonder if it's Mr Cream again." Carrie opened the door. "Oh. Mrs Duster. Good morning."

The landlady smiled. "Good morning. Do you hear a disturbance outside?"

"I'd thought I heard someone yelling about a fire, but it was merely some trifling capon raising a commotion in the street."

"Men these days. Too many mothers ought to be ashamed."

"Oh, absolutely. I ought to close the windows, it is a bit cool today, but I do enjoy the breeze."

"There is a lady downstairs asking to see you. She introduced herself as your aunt, Clementine Genoise. There's a familial resemblance."

"Oh! Of course, my aunt. Do show her up."

"There is a young girl with her as well."

"How... interesting. Well then, please bring them both up."

Mrs Duster left to show the guests up.

Carrie pointed to Miss Perkins, snapped her fingers, and pointed to the door. "Run."

"You have an aunt?" Isabel Perkins looked confused. "But I thought — "

"No," replied Carrie. "Now shut up and run."