Authors: Cindy Spencer Pape
Tags: #General, #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Science Fiction
“Nine. He had consumption. We were in London when he died, so in London I stayed. If Tommy hadn’t found me, I’d have starved to death that first month. He taught me…”
“To steal? You’ll hear no complaint from me about doing what you must in order to survive.”
“Yes, miss. Then he showed me where people threw out their broken machines. I started taking bits and putting new ones together. Soon enough, I made more selling those than I could picking pockets.”
“Didn’t you have any family to help when your father died? What about your mother?”
“Mum died when I was born,” the girl replied. “She had nobody. My da’ was a toff, but they threw him out when he married a serving girl. So he traveled, inventing things and fixing them wherever he went.”
The story wasn’t that different from Caroline’s own, except she’d been older when her mother had been disowned. And her mother hadn’t been strong enough to earn a living, so the onus had fallen on Caroline to support them both.
There but for the grace of God…
Except she wasn’t sure that God or any deity, for that matter, had anything to do with it.
“Tomorrow, I’d appreciate it if you’d put on a dress when we go outside the house,” Caroline suggested gently. “Actually, that’s something I forgot to ask Sir Merrick about. I’m certain he’ll want to make sure you all have sufficient wardrobes.”
Wink grimaced. “Aye. The dressmaker was here, though she left in a hurry. Then Miss Dorothy marched us one by one off to the shops to buy ready-made. I’ve a frock or two, if I must. With
pinafores.
” She said the last word as though it was a curse.
Caroline didn’t even try to smother her laugh. “Fifteen is a difficult age, isn’t it? Not quite a girl, not quite a woman. When do you turn sixteen?”
Wink had to think a moment. “Midsummer. That’s in June, right?”
“June twenty-first,” Caroline agreed. “That’s a typical age to start allowing girls to wear longer skirts and put their hair up. Perhaps we can move that up a month or two if the pinafores truly annoy you.” Birthdays, though—that would be something else that most of these children probably didn’t know. “Do you mind my asking—how did you come to be Sir Merrick’s wards?”
Ten minutes later, Caroline shook her head in wonder.
Vampyres?
This delicate-looking girl wielding a sword?
Part of Caroline’s mind wanted to scream, “Preposterous!” but another part recognized that Wink’s explanation—improbable as it was—was the only one that made any sense at all. Dear God, how was he even going to arrange the legalities of the situation? Surely one couldn’t just scoop children up off the street and claim them as his wards? Then again, he was a baronet and he worked for the Crown. Perhaps he could.
“We should both be off to bed now.” She stood and turned toward the door. “Thank you for explaining the situation.”
“You’re welcome, miss. Here, want to see a trick? Shake, George.”
The mechanical mastiff, which had been perfectly still during their conversation, lumbered to its feet and moved to sit in front of Caroline. Obediently, it lifted one paw, which accidentally grazed Caroline’s wrist, just above her glove. With a horrible creak, the clockwork dog stopped moving, one ear spinning wildly.
“Oh dear.” Caroline yanked her hand back.
“George!” Wink lunged over to her automaton pet, staring up at Caroline. “What happened?”
“You’ve told me your secrets, now here’s one of mine.” Caroline backed cautiously away from Wink’s workspace. “I seem to have a negative effect on machinery. It’s not intentional, but that sort of thing always happens when I touch anything mechanical. I can’t even carry a pocket watch, and I practically hold my breath when I’m on a train. I hope it’s not too serious.”
“No, just a broken spring. I can fix that easily enough.” Nonetheless, Wink cast a suspicious glance at Caroline.
“I’ll try to be careful around your pets, I promise. And now you know to keep them far from me. Truly, I am sorry, Wink.” She moved to the door, turning just before she left. “When you’ve finished repairing George, will you wash up and go to bed? I’ll see you in the morning.”
Her only response was a grunt as Wink set to work.
A shrill scream, as if someone were being killed, invaded Caroline’s consciousness.
Instantly she was awake and out of bed, grabbing the wrapper she’d hung on the post at the end of her bed. As she reached the corridor, a second scream sounded, allowing her to pinpoint the source as the younger boys’ bedroom. She hurried across the hall and pushed open their door.
Piers stood over Jamie, shaking his shoulder. He ducked, dodging a blow from the arm with the cast. Caroline ran to the other side of the bed and grasped Jamie by his left shoulder, holding his injured arm immobile while Piers shouted Jamie’s name.
Wink, still in her coveralls, came running in from the nursery door. Seeing Caroline and Piers already by Jamie’s side, she paused to turn up the lamp before coming over to the foot of the bed. A heartbeat later, Tommy dashed through the hall door wearing nothing but a nightshirt, while Nell, in a lacy white nightgown, was close behind Wink.
Finally, the boy woke, midscream. Wide-eyed, he lay panting, coated in perspiration.
“You’re all right, Jamie. ’Twas just a dream.” Though Caroline wasn’t at all sure there was any “just” about it.
Nell sat on the side of the bed and gathered the boy into her arms, rocking him as if he were much younger, which seemed to soothe him. Caroline turned to the others and whispered, “Does this happen often?”
Wink shrugged. “Sometimes. Changes upset him, even good ones, like moving here.”
“Jamie, what was the dream about?” So often nightmares lost their power once you spoke them out loud—or wrote them in a journal. Caroline knew that from experience.
“Just an old one—things comin’ up out of the dark, hitting, biting, calling me.” He stopped to sob into his pillow.
“That’s the usual, miss,” Piers said calmly. “It don’t mean nothin’—just that ’e’s upset.”
“Sometimes, in his dreams, he sees things,” Tommy added in a low voice. “I don’t know how, but sometimes he sees things that are going to happen—or
might
be going to happen. Those dreams are the worst, because they frighten him even after he’s awake.”
Now Jamie looked up at Caroline in horror. “Please don’t throw me out, miss. I’m not bad, really, I’m not.”
Caroline sat down on the other side of him from Nell and stroked his clammy, sweat-soaked back. “Do you really think Sir Merrick is so lily-livered that he’d toss you aside because of a dream?”
The little boy only cried harder.
“His own family did,” Wink noted sadly. “He told his mum not to go out one morning but she did anyway and was killed by a footpad. When his aunt and uncle heard he’d warned her, they called him the spawn of Satan and threw him out on the streets.”
Caroline lifted him into her arms and held him tightly. “Rest assured, Jamie, that is
not
going to happen here. Now let’s get you into a dry nightshirt and put some fresh sheets on the bed, shall we?” She glanced at the older children. “I imagine one of you has discovered the whereabouts of the linen cupboard.”
“I have.” Tommy stood and left the room.
“Come along, Jamie. Piers, if you could find him another nightshirt while the girls strip the bed?”
The bath was between the nursery and the schoolroom, convenient enough for children and governess to share under normal circumstances, and in this case for all four children. Caroline guided the boy inside and washed his face and hands, then ducked out and allowed Piers to help Jamie change, since he couldn’t manage by himself with the cast. Meanwhile, she warmed some milk on the small gas plate in the pantry off the schoolroom and poured six glasses, which she took with her on a tray back to the boys’ bedroom. Now she understood why the girls had wanted to be in the nursery suite. It would give them a feeling of closeness and accessibility when they needed one another, though honestly the governess’s bedroom was probably further away than Caroline’s room across the hall.
“I thought we could all use this.” Caroline smiled when Tommy, after being elbowed by Wink, jumped up to take the tray from Caroline’s hands. “It’s been an eventful day for everyone, and this will help us get some rest.”
Sleep eluded her, though, even after she was back in her decadently comfortable bed. What was she to do with these waifs, who fought vampyres, saw ghosts and had dreams of the future, along with heavens knew what else? They needed someone—that was a certainty, but Caroline wasn’t at all sure she was up to the task. Teaching these urchins to be gentlemen and ladies was a monumental undertaking, even without considering their special abilities.
Then there was her employer. He’d been utterly polite—had never even touched her other than to shake her hand, and yet something about him made her stomach quiver—something that had never happened with another man. Her instinct for self-preservation was urging her to run from this odd house full of odd people.
And yet—
No place she’d ever worked had been more welcoming. Even the stones in the walls seemed somehow warm and accepting. Here, she thought, was a place where it might not matter, that she, too, was a bit—well—odd. And Miss Hadrian—Miss Dorothy, rather—was an intelligent woman who appreciated that quality in others, and a keen proponent of workers’ rights. Caroline would never be mistreated here. She could avoid the dark and brooding baronet, and simply do her job.
Resolutely, she ignored the pang of disappointment she couldn’t quite suppress at that thought, then rolled over and began counting sheep. Strangely, this time the sheep seemed to be clockwork ones.
The next few days settled into some sort of awkward routine, punctuated by episodes of utter chaos, which gradually became fewer and further apart. Lessons were progressing—not necessarily smoothly but progressing nonetheless. Though lacking formal education, the children were clearly all bright and eager to learn anything they considered interesting or useful. Subjects they found dull were quite another matter, though Caroline relished the challenge of engaging their interest.
On her first full day, Caroline had met with the housekeeper, Mrs. Granger, and arranged to have Sally Kendall installed as a permanent nursery maid. It turned out the girl was the eldest of eight, so she knew a little something about managing a horde. Now at least, there’d be someone in charge of the nursery on Caroline’s half-days, or to mind the others if Caroline had to take one or two off for some errand or another.
Mrs. Granger had proved to be a stern and disapproving woman, but she was devoted to Sir Merrick and Miss Dorothy, and determined that if they wanted to keep these orphans, keep them they would. Mountjoy the butler looked grim with his droopy face and sad eyes, but Caroline was already beginning to suspect a warm heart lurked beneath his air of haughty superiority. Cook had been won over by Jamie’s drawing of flowers in her kitchen garden, so the nursery would continue to be well fed.
Though Caroline had had little contact with any of the other servants, she was satisfied that she’d established a functional working relationship within the household. They usually had luncheon with Miss Dorothy, who also dropped by the nursery on a daily basis to visit the children and chat with Caroline. It was lovely, having an intelligent adult to talk to for a while each day. Sir Merrick, she had barely seen at all, which suited her just fine.
Her fourth morning at Hadrian House was brisk, with ominous dark clouds gathering in the skies that could forebode either snow or sleet. Still, Caroline determined that her charges were in sore need of an excursion, so off to the park it was, though instead of walking several blocks to Hyde Park, as they had for the previous few days, she settled for the smaller confines of St. James Square, which was just around the corner, allowing for a hasty retreat if the skies opened up. Each of the females had brought a sturdy umbrella, though Wink and Nell had dropped theirs to join in a game of pseudo-cricket with the boys. It was fascinating to watch them invent the game as they went. They had the bat and ball, but none of them knew the rules.
Ah well, at least they were getting some exercise and both girls were wearing skirts. It was a beginning. When they urged Caroline to join in the game, she shook her head resolutely and sat on a bench like a proper governess—even when her toes started itching. Since they were the only group bold enough to brave the weather, retaining her staid demeanor was even more difficult.
Jamie, with his broken arm, was not allowed to bat or bowl and quickly grew restless with his assigned task of chasing down the ball when it went over the heads of the others. He found an oak tree with a split trunk and shimmied up into the crotch before Caroline spotted him and darted over.
“Seamus McCann, you come down right now. It’s just about to—” lightning flashed, thunder cracked and the freezing rain began in a torrent, “—rain.”
Jamie wobbled and Caroline caught him by the back of his shirt and steadied him. When had he removed his warm coat and cap? Sleet stung Caroline’s cheeks. “Jamie, come on.”
This time, he obediently slid down into her arms.
“Get your things.” She set him on the ground and turned to see the others scurrying to re-don their outerwear. Wink had opened one umbrella and pulled Piers under it, while Tommy collected the bat and ball. Nell and Jamie shared the other umbrella and Caroline beckoned Tommy under hers. They reached the edge of the square before a gust of wind turned all three brollies inside out.
“Hurry.” Caroline checked for traffic, then urged them all across the street. Before they reached the middle, though, a closed coach raced around the corner at breakneck speed, bearing down on them.
The broken umbrellas and sporting goods were dropped as they all ran from the oncoming coach. Piers had been lagging a little, but now Tommy grabbed the younger boy and pulled him bodily out of the road, just as the carriage bolted past, splattering mud on Caroline’s clothing and even her face—it had been that close. Wet, cold and now terrified, they huddled next to the corner house catching their breath.
“Stubble propriety,” Caroline said through her chattering teeth. “There are no more crossings. Just run.” Lifting her skirts, she followed her own advice, her slick-soled boots and multiple petticoats assuring she was behind even Piers. Down one block and around a corner they ran, then up the marble steps to the front door of Hadrian House, where Tommy’s fist pounded, demanding entry. Johnson opened the door immediately, barely raising an eyebrow at the wet and muddy horde that tumbled in. When Caroline skidded into the foyer, the burly servant closed the door behind her and did his best to suppress a grin.
“Ask Sally to bring some hot chocolate up to the nursery, please.” At least that’s what she meant to say. Due to the cold, there was a good bit of stuttering involved. Caroline and Johnson both bent to help the children remove their sodden coats.
“What is the meaning of this debacle?” The thin, nasal voice was educated, but it was not Sir Merrick’s booming baritone.
Caroline looked up sharply. “I’d say the circumstances speak for themselves. Not, sir, that it’s any of your concern.” The speaker was of good height and had once, perhaps, been strongly built, though now he was quite lean, with a deeply lined face and a ring of salt-and-pepper hair surrounding a bald pate. Sir Merrick stood beside him, his face an expressionless mask.
“Soiled urchins should use the kitchen door, if they must be allowed to enter a house at all.” The older man thumped his brass-tipped walking stick on the carpet for emphasis.
“The front was closer.” Caroline finished stripping off Piers’s coat and handed it off to Johnson. Irritation was warming her rapidly. “And as at least two of these children have health issues, I was inclined to worry more about them than about the carpets. Now, Sir Merrick, if you please, we’ll be off to change into dry garments.”
Sir Merrick nodded at the children. “I need to speak with Tommy and Miss Bristol. The rest of you run along.”
They obeyed him instantly, dashing up the stairs in a clatter. Caroline handed her own serviceable cape to Johnson and stood rigidly, her features schooled into what she hoped was a polite expression. Beside her, Tommy stood, almost preternaturally still, though she could sense him watching, aware of every motion around him. This child was also gifted, though she’d yet to discover in what way.
“Miss Bristol, Tom, allow me to present Mr. Edwin Berry, who is to be Tom’s tutor. Edwin, this is Miss Caroline Bristol, the governess for my younger wards. Let me also present your new charge, Master Thomas Parker. I assure you, they do not make a habit of tracking mud and rainwater through my front door.”
Mr. Berry did not say a word in greeting, just stared rather rudely.
Caroline dipped her head to her employer. “Certainly not. The storm came up suddenly, and there was an incident with a reckless driver that frightened the children. Good day to you, Sir Merrick, Mr. Berry. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go see to my charges as well as to my own repairs.” At Sir Merrick’s nod, she marched toward the stairs, but was unable to resist lingering to watch for just a moment.
“Good afternoon, sir.” Tommy held out his hand, which the tutor conspicuously ignored.
Instead, he gave Tommy a glare. “Please clean yourself up as best as possible, then meet me in the library in fifteen minutes. I warn you, young man, tardiness shall not be tolerated.” With a brief bow to Merrick, he turned on his heel and stalked away.
“He’ll get better with time, lad,” Merrick muttered to Tommy, clapping the boy on the shoulder. “For now, best to do as he says.” Then he too, disappeared, back into his study, leaving a somber Tommy to follow Caroline up to their rooms.
Just like that, the semblance of ease Caroline had achieved with the children was gone.
Edwin Berry was, to put it bluntly, an ass.
Caroline wanted little more than to see the snooty bastard’s balding head on a shining silver platter. How dare he criticize her management of the children? According to the toplofty Mr. Berry, nothing Caroline was doing with her charges was up to snuff. They were too loud, too unruly, and she was obviously made of the same inferior stuff. In just two days, the dreadful man had terrorized Jamie, Piers and Nell, made Wink withdraw into her machines, and turned Tommy into a somber ghost who had apparently been told to stay as far from the others as possible.