The Grand Ellipse - Part 2
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Part 2

That's rich, coming from you. He's betrayed you a dozen times over, with his little seamstresses and shopgirls. And somewhere underneath all that wifely loyalty and respect, you must know it. Luzelle compressed her lips, holding the words in. Luzelle compressed her lips, holding the words in.

"This missive hardly carries the tone of an official communique," His Honor stated. "Your correspondent, this self-styled Deputy Underminister-vo Rouvignac, was it?"

Luzelle nodded.

"The fellow's connection to that famous and ancient House is very much open to question. In any event, you will note that the writer requests a meeting, but fails to specify an hour or location. If he is what he claims to be, then why has he not summoned you to the Republican Complex? The Ministry of Foreign Affairs stands close at hand, and its offices are s.p.a.cious. Why do you not meet him there?"

"The hour and location have been tailored to suit my schedule. The Deputy Underminister vo Rouvignac does not summon me, but rather, waits upon my convenience," Luzelle rejoined, determined to disguise her own misgivings.

"Do not try my patience with puerile absurdity. Have you at some point applied to the ministry for financial backing? Have you filled out the necessary forms, submitted the appropriate credentials and references, together with a written declaration of your proposed use of government funds?"

"No, I've asked for nothing."

"You have, at the very least, notified the ministry of your desire to partic.i.p.ate in this nonsensical race, this international goose-chase, this-"

"Grand Ellipse," Luzelle supplied. "No, sir. I have expressed no such desire or intention."

"And yet, of all the doubtless eager and well-qualified male candidates, you have somehow been selected, by unknown agency, to represent the nation of Vonahr in this asinine compet.i.tion, presumably at the taxpayers' expense. Tell me, daughter-does this strike you as probable?"

Luzelle was silent. Her father only voiced her own unacknowledged doubts.

"It is improbable to the verge of impossibility," the Judge instructed his listeners. "I tell you once again, this invitation you have received is a ruse, and a clumsy one at that."

"And the object of the ruse, sir?"

"Can scarcely elude the most limited understanding. Surely you will not wonder that the world questions your virtue. The immodesty and license of the life that you lead invite irregular solicitation."

Luzelle felt the angry color burn her cheeks. She managed, with effort, to keep her voice even. "The life that I lead is blameless and useful."

"The utility of p.o.r.nographic public lectures is limited at best." His Honor's nostrils flared in distaste. "I regret the indelicacy of expression that your conduct obliges me to adopt."

"That's ridiculous, insulting, and completely untrue! There's nothing p.o.r.nographic about my lectures. They're accurate accounts of foreign habits and customs, inoffensive to all but the hopelessly insular, as the reaction of the audience this afternoon certainly demonstrated!" She could hear her own voice rising, but found herself powerless to control it.

"I will not tolerate impertinence, daughter. You will address me with appropriate respect."

"Then don't attack my work unjustly, and don't smear my character with false accusation!"

"Your work? What need has a spinster of good family to work outside of her father's home? Are you quite blind to the embarra.s.sment you cause your parents, or are you simply indifferent? As for your character, I should prefer to regard it as unblemished, but your actions constrain me to suspect otherwise. What unmarried female aptly described as a lady courts the attention of mult.i.tudes? Accepts financial remuneration in exchange for such public display? Lives alone in defiance of all established convention, and travels the world alone like some common adventuress? Where is your propriety, your sense of duty? Are you remotely capable of grasping such concepts? Do you dare to feign surprise that such libertines as this soi-disant deputy underminister regard you as their natural prey-an a.s.sumption no doubt reinforced by the unbecoming freedom of your manner, and the vulgarity of your appearance?"

To her horror, Luzelle felt the tears sting her eyes; tears that she would rather have died than allow him to see. She'd thought her father had long since lost the power to make her cry.

Her throat constricted. For a moment, pain and fury struck her uncharacteristically dumb.

Surprisingly, her mother came to her rescue.

"Oh, come-surely that is a little hard," Gilinne remonstrated apologetically. "Luzelle's appearance cannot rightly be termed vulgar-she is quite modestly and decently clothed."

His Honor deliberated.

"There is perhaps nothing blatantly amiss with her attire," he conceded at last. "But there is something in her air, her carriage, her general demeanor, that somehow contrives to suggest indiscretion. A thick and loosely draped shawl might improve matters, or else a capacious manteau-"

"Her figure is exceedingly well proportioned," Gilinne observed mildly. "In that our daughter is blessed."

"She need not flaunt her good fortune. Then there is the objectionable appearance of her hair-excessively abundant, ostentatiously curled-"

"The curl is natural. I remember when she was a baby, and-"

"Flamboyantly and improbably colored."

"The shade is popularly known as strawberry blond, I believe, and the fault is entirely mine, husband, for my own mother possessed locks of just such a reddish gold."

"Face swarthy as a laborer's."

"Browned by the sun of the Bhomiri Islands, but the color will fade. Perhaps nightly milk-rinses for her skin might-"

"Her facial expression is displeasing-it lacks innocence. I think the fault lies in the contour of her lips, which are too full for true refinement, and seem set in a perpetual pout."

"Your own sense of justice, sir, will hardly permit you to blame our daughter for the shape of her mouth," Gilinne suggested respectfully.

"I do not hold her culpable." The Judge favored his wife with a penetrating glance, as if suspicious of veiled levity. "But the soundness of my judgment reveals itself all too clearly in the sorry reality of her present situation. She has, through her obstinacy and imprudence, stained herself in the eyes of the world, and the results are all too apparent. She is aging, unwed, and certain to remain so. She willfully threw away her best chance, and now all chances are gone."

"But she is only twenty-five," Gilinne appealed, "and still so handsome. Perhaps it is not yet time to give up all hope? I have it upon good authority that Master Girays v'Alisante has returned to the city-"

The name shot along Luzelle's nerves like a jolt of electricity, finally breaking her paralysis.

"And the women pursue him in droves, but he remains unattached. I am convinced that our daughter's declaration of heartfelt contrition could persuade M. v'Alisante to take her back-"

"That's enough," Luzelle interrupted, pent rage and humiliation finding outlet at last. "There are a few things I wish to say to both of you, so please listen. In the first place, I'd like to point out that I've no intention whatsoever of contacting Master Girays v'Alisante. I do not care to speak to him, much less implore his forgiveness. M. v'Alisante and I are strangers. Should he presume to call on me, I will not be at home."

"Oh, but my dear-" Gilinne attempted.

"Secondly," Luzelle continued, "much as I regret the inadequacies of my face and figure, my carriage, clothing, hair color, intellect, and character, I must inform you that I am tolerably reconciled to all of them, and foresee no major alterations in the immediate future. I trust you are not unduly disappointed."

"I have prohibited insolence," Udonse reminded his daughter.

"I will try to bear that in mind, sir. And yet, with all due respect, I intend to answer certain comments you've made concerning my work-"

"As to that, I am prepared to render my decision. Understand well that this mad folly of self-sufficient self-employment ends, as of today. I have been remiss in allowing an ill-conceived and misguided experiment to continue far too long, but now I correct the error. Henceforth you will conform to normal standards of proper conduct. You will live quietly beneath your father's roof, submitting yourself to paternal authority. There will be no further appearances upon a public stage, and certainly no more of these abhorrent lectures. Should you desire an occupation, you may busy yourself with charity work, but you will accept no monetary compensation for your labors. You may still write, under a masculine nom de plume, but no ma.n.u.script will be submitted to a publisher before I have reviewed the text for suitability of subject matter and wholesomeness of content. Your infrequent excursions from the city of Sherreen will encompa.s.s the homes of those kinsmen willing to receive you, but you will not cross the borders of Vonahr-your days of unbridled vagabondage are over. Well, daughter-I trust I have made myself clear?"

"Perfectly, sir." Luzelle took a deep breath. When she spoke again, she managed to keep her voice even and her expression spuriously calm. "And I intend to follow your example. Let me make it very clear indeed to you that I do not choose to submit myself again to your authority, now or ever. I will continue to work and to live on my own, I will travel as necessity and inclination dictate, I will lecture and write as I please, and I will certainly demand fair payment for my efforts. No doubt my choices will displease you, which is regrettable, but alters nothing."

There followed a long moment of awful silence, broken at last by Gilinne Devaire's scandalized whisper, "Oh, Luzelle-to speak so to the Judge the Judge!"

"Do not trouble to remind her of her duty, madame-it is a useless effort," Udonse advised. "She is perverse, ungrateful, and rebellious by nature. You need only look into her eyes, to see there the pleasure she takes in defying her father."

You're quite right about that, Luzelle realized.

"But I do not think your complacency likely to prove long lived," the Judge advised his erring daughter. "Your rejection of all filial obligation frees me of paternal responsibility. Until such time as you return to my house, all ties between you and your parents are severed." His wife threw him a stricken, imploring glance, which he disregarded. "No longer a member of my family, you may expect no a.s.sistance from me, no recognition, and no support. Should you fall victim to injury or illness, do not come begging for money to pay the doctor. You'll have nothing from me, not so much as a copper biquin."

"I want nothing of yours!" Luzelle flared, her temper slipping its leash as if she were still seventeen. "I need nothing that you could possibly give."

"There you vastly flatter yourself." The Judge spoke with his habitual composure, but the icy clarity of his tone revealed the depth of his anger. "You fancy, I presume, that the monies bequeathed to you by your late maternal aunt ensure your lifelong comfort and security."

And freedom, Luzelle added silently.

"Perhaps that would be so, had you the prudence to husband your inheritance wisely. But you have squandered and continue to squander prodigal sums upon your useless, senseless international jaunts. At the rate you spend, your capital must soon exhaust itself. And when it does, you will come creeping back home, beseeching my pardon and support. Would you not prefer to spare us both that embarra.s.sment?"

Luzelle's pulses jumped. Once again her father had demonstrated his d.a.m.nable ability to verbalize her worst inner fears, but it wouldn't do to let him know that the shot had hit home. a.s.suming an air of indifference, she replied, "The foreign excursions are a necessity, for they furnish the material I use in the books, articles, and lectures by which I earn my living."

"I am to believe, then, that the income thus derived covers not only the cost of travel, but annual expenses as well? Shelter, food, fuel, clothing, and all the rest?"

Luzelle could feel the telltale color in her tanned cheeks deepen. Her whole face seemed to flame. The set of her father's lips communicated utter disdain. She hated that granite mask of his, but could hardly bring herself to lie to it.

"The balance sheet is not yet showing a profit," she admitted, "but my speaking fees are on the rise, my book sales are steadily increasing, and it's reasonable to expect that some day soon, possibly within the next six months"-which is all the time I have left before my money runs out-"my income will equal or even exceed my-"

"You waste the inheritance you are clearly unfit to control upon a foolish, futile endeavor," Udonse informed her. "You are no longer a green girl; it is time for you to recognize the reality of limited abilities and minimal talents that doom your efforts to inevitable failure. Presently bankrupt and facing eviction from your lodgings, you will admit defeat to yourself, if to n.o.body else. What then? Will you select a more lucrative profession, becoming in truth what so many already believe you to be?"

"Perhaps!" Luzelle fired back, and inner demons prompted her to add, "The alternative you suggest is preferable to life beneath your roof, Father!"

Gilinne Devaire began to cry, the silent tears streaming down her cheeks.

Compunction seized Luzelle. "Mother, I'm sorry," she attempted. "I never meant to grieve you-"

"You have grieved the two of us since the day you were born," the Judge declared. "And now you shame us."

Gilinne shook her head weakly, but did not venture to contradict him.

"Mother, please don't cry. It was stupid of me to lose my temper, and-"

"Leave her alone," His Honor commanded. "Have you not done enough harm? You will address your remarks to me."

"There are many remarks I might gladly address to you, but they will have to wait." Luzelle strove hard for self-control. "As I mentioned, I've an appointment, and I cannot afford to miss it. Sir, madame, I bid you good afternoon." Dropping a small, brusque curtsy, she turned and made for the exit.

"One moment," the Judge commanded.

Automatically she halted, and could have kicked herself for that unthinking obedience.

"As you choose to disa.s.sociate yourself from your family, I must require you to relinquish the surname to which you no longer possess legitimate claim," Udonse charged her. "You will understand that I cannot allow public shame or scandal to touch the name of Devaire."

Intolerable. Luzelle's self-restraint flagged for a reckless instant.

"The name of Devaire," she proclaimed, "will spread itself across the front pages of newspapers all over the world when I win the Grand Ellipse." Head held high, she turned and marched from the auditorium. Had he ordered her to stay, she was prepared this time to defy him, but he did not offer her that satisfaction.

She emerged into the foyer, empty save for a quiet figure occupying one of the spindly plush-seated chairs placed along the walls. It was a man, discreetly dark clad, unremarkable, easily overlooked. His grey-streaked head was bent over a book, but he looked up as she came through the door and Luzelle glimpsed a long-nosed, studious face, pasty indoor complexion, and a flash of light glancing off wire-rimmed spectacles. At once he slid the book into a coat pocket and rose to his feet. She saw then that he was medium sized, narrow shouldered, and skinny. More than anything else he resembled an aging academic, at home in his present surroundings. He advanced, and it occurred to her to wonder if he had overheard any or all of the wretched exchange between herself and the Judge.

"Miss Devaire." He bowed. "Allow me to express my admiration of a lecture at once eloquent, informative, and absorbing."

"You are most generous, sir." Her cheeks were still hot and her heart still hammered. Did he notice? His face was unrevealing as it was nondescript. "Deputy Underminister vo Rouvignac, is it?"

"It is. I take it you have received and reviewed my letter."

She inclined her head.

"May we discuss the contents?"

"Yes, but not here." Any moment her parents would emerge from the auditorium, and she did not want to confront them a second time. "One minute, please."

Before he could reply, she ducked into the cloakroom, found her pelisse and hat, hurriedly donned both, then paused an instant to check the result in the mirror hanging beside the door.

Bad, as usual. "...the vulgarity of your appearance..." "...the vulgarity of your appearance..." Her father's words rang in her mind. He was right, of course. Her angry color was still too high, for even now, despite advancing age, she had never fully mastered that troublesome temper of hers. Her lips were too red, as if painted, and too noticeable. Her wide eyes of pale, pure aquamarine, still ablaze with emotion, glared out of her sun-bronzed face like coach lanterns. The density of long lashes and the arch of strong brows several shades darker than her hair only heightened the objectionably obvious contrast. The general effect, despite the sobriety of conservative dark-blue garments, was arguably... Her father's words rang in her mind. He was right, of course. Her angry color was still too high, for even now, despite advancing age, she had never fully mastered that troublesome temper of hers. Her lips were too red, as if painted, and too noticeable. Her wide eyes of pale, pure aquamarine, still ablaze with emotion, glared out of her sun-bronzed face like coach lanterns. The density of long lashes and the arch of strong brows several shades darker than her hair only heightened the objectionably obvious contrast. The general effect, despite the sobriety of conservative dark-blue garments, was arguably...garish. Again she could hear her father's voice. Again she could hear her father's voice.

She didn't want to hear his voice or think of what he had to say about her. She wanted to get out of the building. She sped from the cloakroom, and there was the Deputy Underminister vo Rouvignac regarding her with an eyebrow c.o.c.ked quizzically.

"Ready," she told him, and rushed for the exit. She knew without looking that he followed.

They emerged into University Square, where the grey stone architecture of the ancient lecture halls echoed the grey of an overcast sky. A fine rain, scarcely more than mist, sprinkled down to cool Luzelle's heated face. Drawing a hungry draft of chilly air, she cast her eye about the square. Thronged with students, as always during term time afternoons: unshaven youngsters, sporting their caps and long woolen scarves with native Sherreenian panache. Busy, vital. Edged with ornamental shrubs just beginning to bud. A few yards distant loomed the old Nirienne Bell Tower, originally known as the King's Tower, a t.i.tle lost in the aftermath of the last century's great revolution. Likewise lost-the famous Ten Monarchs, once ranged in an arc before the entrance. Those life-sized effigies of Vonahr's greatest kings were long gone, reduced to marble gravel by a furious mob over sixty-five years ago. The s.p.a.ce they once occupied now belonged to an uninspired bronze statue of Shorvi Nirienne, Father of the Republic, whose writings had fueled the revolutionary ardor that toppled a monarchy.

The last hereditary king of Vonahr had died at the hands of his subjects, while the aristocratic cla.s.s once known as Exalted had suffered a drastic pruning. Those formerly-Exalteds so fortunate as to survive the revolution had found themselves stripped of ancient privileges, n.o.ble t.i.tles, family wealth and possessions-stripped of everything beyond inviolable arrogance. That serene a.s.sumption of innate superiority lived on, proof against every a.s.sault of reason and reality. Oddly enough, the present-day world seemed full of simpletons quite ready to furnish the deference to which so many descendants of exterminated seigneurs imagined themselves ent.i.tled.

Luzelle Devaire did not number among such simpletons. She slanted a sidelong glance at her companion. Deputy Underminister vo Rouvignac, whose name marked him as a formerly-Exalted, projected none of the traditional hauteur of his cla.s.s. His aspect was professorial and una.s.suming. Unlike Master Girays v'Alisante. Unlike Master Girays v'Alisante.

The Marquis Marquis v'Alisante, as he would have been, but for the small matter of the Vonahrish Revolution that had deprived his grandfather of t.i.tle and of life. Very much the would-be grand seigneur. Pretentious, self-important, insufferable a.s.s. Back in town again. v'Alisante, as he would have been, but for the small matter of the Vonahrish Revolution that had deprived his grandfather of t.i.tle and of life. Very much the would-be grand seigneur. Pretentious, self-important, insufferable a.s.s. Back in town again. The women pursue him in droves.... The women pursue him in droves....

Let them, and welcome. She'd far more important matters to consider.

"I know a good cafe in Cider Alley," vo Rouvignac's voice broke in on her thoughts. "Would you like a cup of tea? Or would you rather walk?"

"The Ministry of Foreign Affairs isn't far off," she countered bluntly. "That is surely the proper place to conduct an ordinary business interview?"

"The business at hand is far from ordinary." Vo Rouvignac never blinked. "And best transacted discreetly."

"Why?" Luzelle challenged, suppressing all visible signs of uneasiness. Already the exchange showed signs of fulfilling her father's worst predictions.

"Because, Miss Devaire, should you decide to accept our offer of sponsorship, it is very much in the best interests of all concerned that your connection to the ministry remain generally unrecognized. That is for your protection as well as our own."

"Protection from what?"

"Hostile attention."

"I'm accustomed to that. Thank you for the warning, but it comes a little late. Your letter failed to request confidentiality and I've already shown it to my father, thus drawing considerable hostile attention."

"That is not quite what I meant." Vo Rouvignac smiled a little. "Throughout his life, the Judge Udonse Devaire has demonstrated consistent devotion to Vonahrish interests. His loyalty is hardly open to question. I spoke not of your family members, but-"

"You did, sir," Luzelle interrupted. "And with considerable a.s.surance. How should you know anything of my father's att.i.tudes or actions?"

"Surely it can't surprise you to learn that your background has been investigated."

"Investigated-I? How dare you?"