Love's First Flames (Banished Saga, 0.5) Read online

  “I can’t imagine they’d want to find you exhausted and ill,” she reproached, reaching out to ruffle his black hair. She stilled her movement as he jerked away from her.

  “Thank you for your kindness, Mrs. McClowski. I’m sure my mother will be most appreciative.” The slight curve of his lips was a weak imitation of a smile, but he could do nothing more.

  “Your mother mentioned her sister to me, and I will send for her when it is light.” She placed the back of her hand to her mouth as a yawn escaped. “I must rest in what little time is left. Good night, Gabriel.”

  Gabriel nodded, blinking rapidly in an attempt to keep his eyes open. He played games with his overwhelming fatigue, letting one eye rest as he kept one eye open, jerking awake as his head bobbed to his chest. When dawn approached, and there was still no sight of his parents, he gave up his vigil and moved to collapse next to Richard on the floor.

  CHAPTER TWO

  RICHARD AND GABRIEL AWOKE to the piercing sound of a baby’s cry. “Gabe?” Richard rasped as he rolled over and banged his head into Gabriel’s. “Ouch.” He rubbed at his head as he sat up on one elbow, looking around the cramped front room. “Where are we?”

  “Mrs. McClowski’s. She took us in last night,” Gabriel said, his voice still a few octaves deeper from the smoke, hinting at the voice he’d have in a few years.

  “You sound funny,” Richard said with a giggle before he sobered. “Where are Mum and Da?” He paled at Gabriel’s tortured gaze and silent shake of his head. “They can’t be . . .”

  “Don’t even think it,” Gabriel commanded as he rose to peer out the front window. Their building smoldered across the street, the bricks blackened as though polished by a shoe-shine boy. “Two buildings destroyed.”

  Richard joined him at the window, leaving Jeremy snuffling softly in his sleep by the now defunct fire. They then sat in the small front room, nodding their thanks as Mrs. McClowski bustled in with a few pieces of toast and a cup of tea for them to share.

  “I’ve sent word to your aunt. I’m sure she’ll be here soon,” Mrs. McClowski said as she lifted a small child to her hip. “I’ve asked the children to leave this room to you today, but I’m afraid they may come out to see you. It’s quite cramped in the back room for so many of them.”

  Gabriel nodded again and cleared his throat, wincing at the raw ache that action wrought. “Mrs. McClowski, where are our parents?”

  “I’m . . . uncertain,” she said, a relieved expression on her face as another of her children called out for her.

  Gabriel frowned and shook his head at Richard, preventing any questions. “We wait, Rich.” Jeremy slept most of the morning but woke hungry and scared. Gabriel attempted to soothe him as best he could, although there was no food to give him.

  When he and Richard had begun to nod off on the hard chairs, and Jeremy had collapsed again in front of the cold fire, Gabriel heard the clip-clop and rattle of a carriage. The street had been eerily quiet all day after the fire. He nudged Richard, and they moved toward the window, leaning on the casement as a well-appointed carriage careened down the street, coming to a halt in front of them and blocking their view of their destroyed home. “Who’s that?”

  Gabriel shrugged his shoulders as a thin woman stepped out, wearing a shimmering blue dress that almost appeared black. She pulled a slate-colored wool coat more firmly around her as she exited the carriage. She wore black gloves and a black hat with a veil pinned back. Her harsh features were drawn into a moue of disgust as she glanced around the street, and she raised a square of white linen to her nose as she dodged horse droppings and approached Mrs. McClowski’s door.

  “I’ve never seen her before,” Gabriel said as he and Richard raced to the two available seats in the front room as a loud rapping noise echoed from the battered wooden door.

  They shared worried glances as Mrs. McClowski bustled toward the front door, smiling obsequiously as she ushered the woman into the room. Gabriel glared at the refined woman who entered; she was careful not to allow any part of her being to touch the walls or furnishings. His gaze clashed with the piercing blue eyes of this unknown woman, and he stiffened his shoulders with defiance. Richard looked toward Gabriel, mimicking his posture.

  “So these are what’s left of her then,” the woman said in a harsh, raspy voice.

  “Mrs. Masterson, may I say how terribly sorry I am—” Mrs. McClowski broke off with a wave from this woman called Mrs. Masterson.

  “Well, stand up. Let me have a look at you.” She nodded to Gabriel and Richard.

  Richard shared a worried glance with Gabriel as he remained seated.

  “Why should we? Who are you to order us around? Why don’t you go away and let us wait for our parents?” Gabriel asked, animosity rich in his voice.

  “I am your aunt. Your mother’s sister. And I’d thank you to keep a civil tongue in your mouth for I’d hate to have to show you what happens to young boys who don’t.” She glowered at Gabriel, an unsightly blush highlighting her pale features. “You are coming home with me.”

  “No, we’re not,” Jeremy yelled, sitting up on the pallet. “We’re waiting for Da to come get us. Then we’ll go home.”

  “You stupid boy. There is no home to go to. Look out that window. It’s a blackened, charred ruin and also a tomb. Your parents died there last night.” She turned toward Mrs. McClowski. “I would have thought you’d explained this to them by now.”

  “I . . . I didn’t have the heart to,” she whispered, bowing her head.

  “Well, it’s evident these boys have been coddled long enough, and you’ve only continued the tradition begun by their parents. It is at an end. Now, what are your names?” She glared at them, eyes roving from one to the other as they remained seated in front of her, mutinously silent.

  Mrs. McClowski spoke in a hesitant voice. “The eldest is Gabriel, then it’s Richard and Jeremy. They’re very good boys.”

  “Doubtful.” Their aunt scowled one more time before pointing to the door. “Come along. I don’t have all day, and my carriage is waiting. When I exit this . . . house, I expect to find the three of you inside that carriage waiting for me. If I do not, I will only be too relieved to escort you to an orphanage.”

  “Orphanage? Gabe?” Richard whispered.

  “It’ll be all right,” Gabriel soothed as he rose, reaching for Jeremy’s hand. “Let’s go look at the horses and see what the inside of that nice carriage looks like.”

  “I want Da!” Jeremy screamed, wriggling until he lay on the floor, thrashing about.

  “Jer,” Gabriel murmured, bending and stroking a hand down his back. “You, Richard and I are still together. Mum and Da would be happy about that.” He swiped at Jeremy’s tears as Jeremy looked up at Gabriel in desolation. “Don’t you want to see the horses?”

  Jeremy nodded, taking Gabriel’s hand, and the three of them shuffled past their aunt. Gabriel grabbed the bridle of one of the horses so he could pat the nose of the black one, smiling as Jeremy squealed with delight when the horse snorted and tossed its head, causing Gabriel to almost fall.

  “Let’s get in the carriage, see what that is like,” Gabriel said. He helped boost his brothers inside and then pulled himself up into it, no step readily available to ease his entrance.

  “This sure is fancy,” Richard said as he patted the leather seats. He moved toward the rear of the carriage, looking out the back through a small window. “I wonder what it feels like when it moves.”

  “I think we’ll know soon enough,” Gabriel said as he pulled Jeremy to his side.

  The door was thrust open, and a small step was placed at the foot of the doorway. A black glove grasped a door handle, and their aunt heaved herself into the carriage. “I sit there, young man. I always face front. You can sit with your brothers.”

  Gabriel met Richard’s mutinous stare, Gabriel’s silent gaze coaxing his brother to sit next to him. Gabriel sat between his two brothers, an arm slung over both of their
shoulders. All three of them jerked backward in unison as the carriage rocked forward. “Where are we headed?”

  “Where are we headed, Aunt Masterson?” she snapped. “That is how you must always address me. I am your elder, and I am due your respect. I would have thought your mother would have instilled some sort of manners in her heathen children. Although looking at you, I should have known better than to have expected such from her.” She sniffed as she beheld them in their patched gray pants and faded gray linen shirts. Jeremy’s was nearly threadbare, a hand-me-down from both Gabriel and Richard. Soot and singe marks marred all their clothes.

  “This is what we slept in last night, Aunt,” Gabriel said. At her raise of her eyebrow, he said, “Aunt Masterson.”

  “I can’t imagine anyone of decent heritage sleeping as you do.” She shook her head in disapproval. “At the least, you should have sleeping clothes.”

  “Well, we don’t,” Richard said. “An’ I’m glad we don’t, ’fore, if we did, we’d be stuck in a stupid dress instead of decent clothes. It’s bad enough to be without shoes.”

  Gabriel nudged Richard in his side for intentionally speaking rough.

  She looked to their unshod feet and then to the roof of the carriage. “Why I was ever expected to care for the likes of you, I will never know. However, I must do my Christian duty. It is what is expected of me, and I shall never be accused of shirking my responsibilities.”

  Gabriel looked out the carriage window, brick buildings moving past him as they trundled out of the West End, through bustling Scollay Square, past the Boston Common and verdant Public Garden veering down Commonwealth Avenue into the Back Bay. The carriage moved in fits and starts as it traveled between trolleys, delivery carts and other carriages, making a slow progression toward its destination. Throughout the entire journey, Aunt Masterson continued to moan about the expense of her new charges and the unjustness of fate to have landed them in her care.

  “If you only knew what a trial this will be to my poor Henry and Nicholas,” she wailed, dabbing at her eyes with her white lace handkerchief. “They are such gentle boys to be exposed to the likes of you. How shall it be borne?”

  “Henry and Nicholas, Aunt?” Gabriel asked. He rubbed Jeremy’s head, which had fallen to Gabriel’s lap as Jeremy curled up on the side of the carriage seat, having fallen heavily asleep with the rocking motion of the carriage.

  “My wonderful sons. They have only ever known a refined home, with good people surrounding them.”

  “We’re good people, Aunt,” Richard said with a grin. “Our da said there weren’t no better than a McLeod.”

  “You insolent fool.” Her eyes flashed her anger. “He was no better than gutter scum who should never have even looked at, never mind spoken to or touched, your mother. There isn’t anything worse than a McLeod.”

  Gabriel used his free hand to grip Richard’s arm, holding him to his side, and preventing him from leaping up and doing bodily harm to their aunt. “I’m sure you’re mistaken, Aunt Masterson, and I’d appreciate it if you’d never speak about our da like that again.”

  “You’d appreciate it, would you? You have no right to instruct me, Gabriel. I’m the one who will give you guidance into what should and shouldn’t be done. Mark my words, anyone who associates themselves with a McLeod will only know pain and ruination.”

  Gabriel tensed as though he were about to leap at his aunt in his own anger, only relaxing as the carriage rolled to a stop.

  “Ah, we are here at last. Enjoy the novelty of entering through the front door, boys, as it will be the only time you are granted such a boon.” She took the hand of the carriage driver and descended onto the sidewalk, fluffing her skirts around her before sauntering to her front door. She turned to look at them over her shoulder, glaring from the carriage door to a spot directly behind her, intimating their need to join her on the doorstep.

  Gabriel shook Jeremy awake and looked out the carriage. The carriage driver had moved away, taking the step with him. He glanced around and, seeing no other way to exit, sat on the floor of the carriage before hopping down to the sidewalk. He turned back, helping down first Jeremy then Richard.

  “Wow,” Richard whispered as he looked up at the large four-story redbrick home with large bow-front extending from the first to third level. A dormer window on the fourth floor sat on top of the bow-front. A wrought iron railing led to the front door, its intricate metalwork and flower petal design highlighting the home’s importance. Emerald green shutters lined each window. A dormant small garden sat in front of the house, to the side of the brick walk the three brothers stood huddled on.

  “Come along. I haven’t all day,” Aunt Masterson snapped.

  They moved together, coming to a halt directly behind their aunt as the front door opened without her raising a hand. Gabriel peered around his aunt to see a narrow rectangular room with white wainscoting, pale green walls and marble floors. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, and small pieces of ornate furniture lined the walls.

  “Ah, Adams, thank you for seeing to my needs, as always,” she simpered, moving into the doorway and into the hall, blocking Gabriel’s view. She removed her hat, black gloves and slate-colored wool coat, handing them into Adams’s waiting arms. She glanced into the silver-plated mirror set at her height, patting at her hair. “These . . . people will be with us for some time.”

  “I see, madam. Should I have rooms prepared upstairs?” He spared a second’s worth of a glance for the three McLeod boys, his thin lips turning down in disgust before smiling unctuously at Mrs. Masterson. No speck of lint marred the perfection of his black suit, the white of his shirt a startling accent. Pomade had been applied liberally to his thinning hair, and his brown hair glistened.

  “No. They will be most comfortable in the garden level near the kitchen.” She strode toward a double door opening into a large room filled with formal furniture.

  “He looks like a penguin,” Jeremy whispered. Richard bit back a smile as Mr. Adams’s shoulders stiffened. Gabriel squeezed Jeremy’s shoulder, pushing him to follow their aunt into the parlor. He gripped Jeremy to him and reached out for Richard, halting their progression in the large double doorway.

  Large fern fronds lent an exotic air to the room while the rich red wallpaper made it feel warm and inviting. Mahogany and black walnut furniture in the shape of settees, chairs and ottomans were placed throughout. The fabric appeared lush, and Gabriel itched to touch it, wondering if it would be velvet. Side tables with white and green marble inlay, holding pictures of the family, sat next to the chairs and settees. The walls were covered in pictures of exotic lands in the orient.

  Richard nudged Gabriel. “I bet Uncle’s been to those places.” He shared a smile with Gabriel as they moved into the room.

  “Don’t come any farther, you wretched, dirty boys.” Their aunt vibrated with anger as she sat in a chair near a roaring fire with mosaic emerald glass detailing around its edges. “I have no desire to force my maids to work any more than they do, cleaning up after the likes of you have invaded my private sanctuary.”

  “Of course, Aunt,” Gabriel said. “Where would you like us to go?”

  “You will stand there until you are dismissed.” After a long moment’s pause, she snapped, “We are waiting for my boys to finish their dinner. They will come to meet you. Although there can be nothing gained by an association with you on their part, you will benefit from your relationship with them.”

  “As you say, Aunt,” Gabriel said. He nudged his brothers, and they nodded their agreement.

  “I expect you to show me the deference I am due, Gabriel. None of this insolence in the future. Do you understand me?” She rose and moved toward them.

  Jeremy whimpered and burrowed into Gabriel’s side.

  “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t scare my brothers, Aunt.” Gabriel glared at her as he patted Jeremy.

  “They’ll have much more to be afraid of if you don’t learn to control yo
ur tongue or temper.” Her impassioned, disapproving countenance cleared as she heard light footsteps approaching. “Ah, here are my boys.”

  The McLeod boys turned to face their cousins for the first time. Gabriel elbowed Richard in the side as he snickered, causing Richard to grunt and be quiet. Both cousins wore crisp light-green shirts with a darker green waistcoat, a striped bow tie and fawn-colored pants that bunched at the knee. Tan socks and polished coffee-colored shoes covered the lower half of their legs and feet.

  “Hello, it’s nice to meet you,” Gabriel said.

  “I don’t know why we should be expected to make your acquaintance,” the taller of the two boys said, his dishwater-brown bangs falling into his pale brown eyes, smirking at the McLeod brothers as he looked them up and down. “Who are these people, Mother?” He sidled past his cousins, not touching them and standing beside his mother’s chair. His younger brother followed suit, a scornful sneer on his face.

  “They are your cousins, Henry.” Mrs. Masterson reached up to grasp her son’s hand, patting it once.

  Gabriel stiffened at the derision in her tone, standing with perfect posture in his tattered clothes. He curled his toes in his socks, keenly aware of how out of place he was in this fine home.

  “We have no cousins,” the younger one said. “Besides, if we did, we’d have the good sense to at least have ones that came with better clothes.”

  “My sister had the misfortune to marry a worthless man, and these are her children. A cautionary tale,” she said as she rose. “Now that you’ve met my sons, it is time to have you settled and for you to see to your duties.”

  “Duties, Aunt?” Gabriel asked.

  “You didn’t believe you’d come here and have free room and board?” She smiled as Nicholas and Henry laughed. “You will earn your keep as anyone who is not one of us does.”