18. Sam The Trenches #2
Within the apartment, the visitors were just reaching the upper floors. “Good morning, Uncle,” Clem said as the older man entered the room.
He gave her a hard look but replied courteously enough. “A good morning to you as well, Niece.”
Norbert Trench, as you may know, worked for the Bank of Boston.
Managing the money of others over so many years had left him with a permanently proprietary air, as if charged by some higher power with managing not only his clients’ finances but the affairs of everyone around him, too.
He had only to walk into a room, and his very presence suggested a willingness and authority to rearrange its contents to his liking.
Now, in Rosie and Clem’s apartment, he cast his eyes about with a gaze of barely contained disapproval.
Unlike many men of his age and reputation, he still used tokens for his appearance.
I noticed a pair of ruby cuff links and a silk cravat, and guessed that some aspect of the full head of hair, the luxuriant beard, and the smooth forehead had their origins in them.
Trench held himself stiffly, moving with a deliberate restraint that conveyed disdain with every gesture.
He removed his hat, smoothed his hair down, and held the hat and cane out to Clem wordlessly.
Clem placed them on a small table by the doorway. She ignored the little girl, who walked around the edge of the room and stopped by a window. The girl was dressed like a servant, with a dress and apron, and she stood silently at the very edges of the floorboards, staring down at her feet.
“Good morning, Cousin,” Simeon said. He no longer looked furious, seeming instead rather gleeful at the prospect of Clem’s comeuppance. “How are you?”
“I’m well, thank you.”
“I hope you’ve overcome yesterday’s unpleasantness,” he said, eyes glinting.
Clem smiled. “You’re very kind.”
“So good to see you, dear Rosetta,” Simeon said sweetly, handing her his gloves and his hat.
She placed them on the side table beside the open door and then crossed the room to join Clem. “Would anyone like tea?”
Norbert Trench sat down placidly in one of the yellow armchairs. “Thank you, Rosetta, but we won’t stay long.”
“What a shame. And I regret to see that Mariah and Aunt Jane couldn’t join you,” Clem observed.
“Today’s conversation isn’t one for my wife and daughter,” Norbert said heavily. “And, as it happens, I will ask Rosetta to give us a moment to ourselves.”
“That isn’t necessary,” Rosie protested.
“I’m afraid it is,” Norbert said.
“Anything you have to say to Clementine, you may say to both of us,” Rosetta insisted.
“No, my dear,” Norbert said to her. “Please oblige me by allowing Simeon to take you for a walk around the neighborhood while I speak with your sister. It isn’t good for your health to discuss difficult subjects.” As his tone grew sterner, the little girl by the window cautiously raised her head.
Rosetta didn’t move. “I have no wish for a walk,” she said primly. “I’m perfectly well. I haven’t had an asthmatic attack in quite some time, and I’m quite capable of participating in a ‘difficult’ conversation.”
“Be reasonable, Rosetta,” her uncle exhorted.
He turned to the little girl. “That won’t be necessary, Principa.
” But his words arrived a moment too late.
The little girl had vanished as abruptly as a passing reflection in a window, leaving in her place a much taller, more formidable presence, with tendrils of loose hair, an angular face, and flowing skirts.
It was Norbert Trench’s spirit thew, a legacy who had been in his family for three generations.
She gazed at Rosetta with dull, menacing eyes.
“I’m the one who has asked Rosetta to stay,” Clem said with an air of apology. “You are right about the asthma, Uncle. I worry about her, and I much prefer to have Rosie within sight.”
There was a moment of silence. “Very well,” Norbert said unhappily.
The spirit thew Principa let out a little sigh, and in the next moment she once again appeared as a small, meek servant girl.
“Simeon has told me about what happened yesterday,” Norbert said.
“Oh, yes,” Clementine replied, leaning forward. “Simeon was so kind. In front of the entire class, and Professor Mead as well, he told everyone that he was my cousin. It was really so valiant of him, given the tenor of the room, and I haven’t been able to thank him.”
Norbert looked highly displeased. He gave Simeon a dark look and turned back to Clementine. “He didn’t mention that. But he did, of course, mention that you presented yourself as a student. I was most distressed to hear of it. It’s a very serious matter.”
“I see.”
“I sincerely hope you will.” He gazed at her sternly. “I’ve no doubt that you misrepresented yourself on the application to the university, and that is a very serious lie.”
“Uncle, I wonder if the application forms have changed since your time, because nothing on the form asked me to declare whether I was a man or a woman.”
Norbert paused, discomfited. “I cannot remember the form, but that is immaterial. You altered your appearance to present yourself on campus in a different guise.”
Clementine blinked in surprise. “I…I believe almost every student on campus these days wears tokens to alter his appearance. Isn’t that so, Simeon?”
Simeon smiled. “But those are merely to enhance, not disguise.”
“How”—Clem appeared baffled—“do you perceive the difference? I saw for myself the acquisition of luxuriant beards, beautiful whiskers, impressive calves…”
“Yes, Clementine,” her uncle interrupted, “but all those men, without their alterations, were eligible to attend Commonwealth.”
Clem shook her head. “I really believe this is all a misunderstanding. I realize women haven’t attended Commonwealth in the past, of course.
But it isn’t clear to me that such a thing is prohibited.
Having looked very closely at the rules of the university, I believe it is custom rather than policy that has kept women away.
I’d wager my trousers on it!” She smiled jauntily.
Norbert frowned. “You take this far too lightly, Niece. This is a serious matter. Very serious. I doubt you’ve considered the significance for us, as a family, of your having created this very public scandal.
Have you considered the effect upon my banking connections, or upon Simeon’s prospects at the university, or Mariah’s marriage prospects? ”
Clementine’s expression shifted to one of distress. “You’re right that I hadn’t considered it. That’s very concerning. Perhaps,” she said tentatively, “it would be best to keep some slight…distance from us, for a time.”
Norbert let out a short breath. “That won’t be enough.
Scandal has a way of tracking down associates and relatives, no matter how remote.
In our case, the connection is not remote.
We’ll all be in the public eye, and we’ll all be sullied by this absurd action and its repercussions.
I can’t understand,” Norbert went on, “why your father saw fit to name his own brother your guardian, even though he is a bachelor, lives in New Bedford, and can’t possibly see you more than… how many times a year?”
“Oh, we see Uncle Tomás quite often,” Clem said cheerfully.