“I have to apologize for not getting back to you right away. But I had to chat with a friend here who employs some Chinese—Isidor Straus, the owner of Macy’s, the biggest department store in the United States. I guess I don’t need to tell you how hard it is to get past the Chinese Exclusion Act.” He feeds his frown some champagne. “As far as I’m concerned, the less the government sticks their fingers into my business, the better for all of us.”

“How will you do it?” I ask. Jamie fidgets beside me, touching his left shoulder, which must be bothering him.

Mr. Stewart nods. “There are exceptions in the act, including one for teachers. Charlie has been wanting to set up a circus school for a while now.” He rubs his hands together. “Perhaps as part of your employment with the circus, you can instruct others in the acrobatic arts.”

“Will it work?” asks Jamie.

“I think so. Especially with Charlie in the ring.” He tosses up his watch and catches it. “If it weren’t for him, his six brothers would still be doing pony tricks on the farm, not running the largest entertainment company in the world. He secured the right to transport twenty-six camels, sixteen elephants, and three hundred and thirty-five horses by train, by knowing which hands to shake and which shoulders to tap. But here’s the thing, folks.”

My blood stops moving through my body.

“The teacher exception only works for males.”

“I can pass as male. You’ve seen the act.”

“Actually, what I propose is that Jamie come as the ‘teacher,’ with you as his ‘wife.’”

Jamie draws back. “But that wasn’t on the table.”

His words echo off some chasm of disbelief that has opened inside me. Jamie doesn’t want to come? I misread him. The farewell toast at last night’s dinner was for . . . me. The ship’s dull vibrations seem to amplify, like a hive of bees has moved into my head.

“I’m sorry, but the act works because it’s two of you. Valor and Virtue. Plus, it’s too risky for Ringling Brothers to hire a single woman.”

“Risky in what way?” Jamie asks.

Mr. Stewart grabs at his chin, pulling hard enough to sharpen the point of it. “For one, she might run off. It’s the women who tend to get in the family way.”

“I certainly don’t have plans for that.”

“No one ever does.”

Jamie stiffens. “Is that a remark on Valora’s judgment?” His eyes have grown bright, and his fingers grip the edge of the seat cushion, like talons. He rarely yells, preferring to scorn rather than scald. “She cared for our father by herself after our mum died. Buried him, too. Does that sound like a girl who would shirk her duties?”