She felt, once again, a deep sense of guilt that he was sitting here with her, when he could be with any number of women who were not poisonous and with whom he could have an ordinary relationship. She had told him that once—he had replied, touching her cheek for just a moment, not long enough for his fingertips to blister, “I don’t want ordinary, Bea. I want you.”
Now, he reached across the table and took her gloved hand. “Honey, you look a million miles away. What are you thinking?”
“That I will miss this place. Soon, Catherine and I will be returning to London, and you will be leaving with the circus for—where do you go next?”
“Bucharest, then Varna, then Constantinople. And after that… maybe Athens? Lorenzo wasn’t sure the last time I talked to him. I wish you could come with us. We could use a Poisonous Girl. By the way, how did the committee meeting go?”
“Well enough, I suppose. Frau Gottleib and Professor Holly agreed that the Société des Alchimistes needs a set of ethical rules to guide alchemical research. They asked me to produce a first draft for their comments and revisions. Once we agree on a second draft, we will present it to Ayesha. What she will think of it, only Heaven knows!”
“I’d like to meet this Ayesha,” said Clarence.
Beatrice looked at him with alarm. “Why? What is the President of the Alchemical Society to you?”
“Nothing, I suppose,” he said, looking at her with a puzzled frown, as though trying to understand her reaction. He pulled his hand away. “You told me she was a black woman—Egyptian, you said? And she’s the head of this Alchemical Society. She sounds impressive, and like someone I’d be interested in meeting, that’s all.”
Why had the thought of Clarence meeting Ayesha caused a sudden pang in her chest, as though she had been struck through the heart with one of Ayesha’s lightning bolts? Involuntarily, she put her hand where she had felt it. Yes, Ayesha was a beautiful woman, but that did not mean all men would fall in love with her, did it? Anyway it would be good for Clarence to fall in love with someone else… only not Ayesha. One could not compete with someone like Ayesha.
Clarence finished his soup, chicken in a paprika broth, and wiped the bowl with a piece of bread to get at the last of the spicy red liquid. Beatrice had already finished a cucumber salad. It was a little too substantial for her—she seldom ate anything that was not in liquid form—but she had felt awkward merely drinking while he ate. She did not know what to say, so she fiddled with her fork.
“Anyway, I must help rescue Alice, if indeed she has been kidnapped,” she said at last. “I am—we are all—terribly worried about her. The circus can get along very well without me, but the Athena Club—well, I would not want to abandon my friends.”
“Of course not, and I’m not asking you to.” Clarence ate a final piece of bread and signaled to the waiter. “I know how important the Athena Club is to—well, to all of you, including Cat. I just wish you and I could spend more time together.”
“But we should not spend more time together,” said Beatrice. “The more of my poison you inhale—”
“I know, I know, you don’t need to remind me.” He sounded impatient, annoyed. But she did need to keep reminding him, didn’t she? Because she did not want him to suffer the fate of her first love, Giovanni, who had spent so much time with her in her father’s garden that he too had become poisonous. He had died from drinking an antidote that he believed would return him to his natural state. No, she would not allow such a thing to happen to Clarence. It was good that soon they would be parted and he would go to Constantinople. There was no Ayesha in Constantinople.…
CATHERINE: So is it good or bad that Lorenzo’s circus has been offered a permanent position at the Alhambra? You get to see him as often as you like—
BEATRICE: Which is not often enough for him! Truly, I do not know whether it is a good thing or a bad thing that Clarence and I can spend more time together. I know you disapprove, Cat—
CATHERINE: I don’t disapprove. I just don’t want him to die of poison. Well, at least he didn’t fall for Ayesha, which would have been worse!
BEATRICE: He did, just a little. It’s difficult not to, I think.
Clarence paid the bill. Beatrice had tried, the first time they had come to the Centrál Kávéház, to pay for herself, but he had said, “Honey, at least allow me to do this.” So she had not insisted.
After they rose from the table, he took her manteau from the back of her chair and draped it over her shoulders. When they had first started spending time together, gestures like these had confused her. Certainly her father had never done such things, nor Giovanni, either. Slowly, she had come to realize they were the gestures men made toward women when they wished to be courteous, or romantic, or both. And Clarence was unfailingly courteous toward women, even when he was angry, as he had been at Zora for losing one of her snakes in the hotel. The entire circus had been asked to leave, but allowed to stay after Zora had promised to remove herself and her snakes to Count Dracula’s residence.
Sometimes, Beatrice could not help being amused by the incongruity of it. He walked between her and the street, so her skirt would not be splashed by passing carriages. And yet she could, with her breath, poison everyone on the sidewalk! Nevertheless, she could not help feeling pleasure at being cared for in this way—she, who had always cared for others, whether her father, or his poisonous plants, or the patients for whom she so carefully concocted medicines.
They emerged into Károlyi Mihály utca, into the warmth and sunlight of Budapest. Yes indeed, she would miss this city, which reminded her just a little of her own Padua, arranged along the Bacchiglione River, as Budapest was arranged along the Danube. The streets of Budapest were busy with carts and wagons, as they always were at midday. Clarence held his arm out to her. As usual, she did not take it. Instead, with a small shake of her head, she started down the street toward the theater. Although her arms and hands were thoroughly covered, and he could not, even by accident, have come into contact with her skin, she did not want him to get used to being close to her. That would not be good for him—or her, either. Her heart had been broken once—she did not want it broken again. She had found so much in this new life of hers: freedom and friendship and a purpose. Love was not necessary.
MARY: Are you quite sure about that? I would not say love is necessary—but perhaps life is not quite the same without it? We all need to be loved, in some way.
DIANA: I don’t.
MARY: I think you need to be loved more than anyone I know! Stop that—you can’t hurt me, kicking me through a petticoat. See? If I didn’t love you, I would never put up with such behavior. Of course, I don’t always like you very much.
BEATRICE: That does not change the fact that I am poisonous. I cannot be with any man without endangering his life. Lucinda would understand—she is not poisonous, but her hunger for blood also separates her from mankind.
MARY: Where is Lucinda, anyway?
CATHERINE: Playing the piano. Can’t you hear it? Good Lord, why do you primates have ears if you can barely hear with them?