Love's First Flames (Banished Saga, 0.5) Page 3
“I had hoped we would be granted a reprieve for what we’ve suffered,” Gabriel said.
“My, they taught you fancy words at that backwater public school, didn’t they? No, you will receive no reprieve. Not from me. You will learn the importance of hard work. It will build your character. None of this laying-about, do-nothing idleness propagated by your father and those you associated with in that wretched West End. Here you will learn to work.”
“Our father worked hard,” Richard snapped.
“Our mother believed our work was to study and to find success through education,” Gabriel argued.
“You will continue to attend school.” She held up a hand as her sons whined behind her. “The public one nearby for boys not of quality. I will not pauper my family enrolling you in the exalted environs of the prestigious academy attended by my dear boys.” She smiled, although Gabriel tensed as it appeared sinister and calculating rather than soothing. “You will have chores you must complete every day. If you do not complete your chores, you will not eat.”
Gabriel nodded, an inexpressible weariness pervading him as he understood the reality of his current situation.
“Come along.” Mrs. Masterson pulled on Jeremy, dragging him away from Gabriel. Gabriel yowled in protest as Jeremy screeched, creating the desired effect of all three McLeod brothers following her at a fast clip as she reentered the entryway and ducked into a small staircase. “Down,” she ordered, pushing Jeremy in the back. He teetered forward, almost tumbling headlong down the steps before he regained his balance and descended the stairs. Gabriel reached forward in an attempt to aid him, but his arm was slapped away by his aunt. “Stop coddling the boy.”
All four of them took the stairs, turning left into a bright kitchen with two half windows at street level letting in daylight. A scarred oak table sat against one wall with benches underneath; a large black stove with cast iron pots bubbling on top sat against one wall, the scent of thyme and oregano wafting through the air, the surrounding floor and wall area completely composed of blackened brick. They walked across scrubbed-clean slate floors, through the kitchen and into a hallway. Gabriel peered into a tiny room, seeing a cot and a furnace with a chute for coal.
“Behave, or that will be your job, and you’ll never see the light of day,” their aunt warned as she turned them to face the room across the hall. The three brothers peered into the room where two maids worked to clear many years’ worth of dust and dirt. Three cots piled haphazardly on top of each other with chairs and a few tables underneath them filled the small space.
“This will be your room.” Their aunt smiled with satisfaction.
“For which one of us, Aunt?” Gabriel asked.
“For all three of you, of course.” She tapped him on the head. “I don’t have the space to spare more than the one room.”
Gabriel and Richard looked up, as though imagining the rooms upstairs, and shared a dubious glance. “As you say, Aunt.”
“Exactly, Gabriel. It is as I say, and it will do you well to remember.” She turned to look around the small hallway.
“It may take them a few more minutes to clear the space for you so you might as well wait in the kitchen.” They followed her, pulled out a bench at a table and sat with a thud. “Do not move from here. Do you understand?” When they nodded their agreement, she spun and ascended the stairs.
“I’m hungry,” Jeremy whispered as he leaned into Richard’s side.
“I know, Jer. I think we all are,” Gabriel said. He crossed his arms onto the table and laid his head on them. “I’m so tired.”
“Gabe,” Jeremy whined.
Gabriel raised his head and glanced around the well-ordered kitchen. The only food evident was in the soup pot on the stove. He glanced around the room until he saw a small curtained area. “Rich, you’re lookout.” Gabriel hopped off the bench and tiptoed to the curtain, pulling back a small section and peering inside.
He turned around with a broad grin. “Eureka!” After another nod to Rich with a pointed glance at the door, Gabriel snuck inside. Foodstuffs in glass jars lined the shelves, their purple and green and orange contents teasing Gabriel. On the middle shelf, he found a loaf of oatmeal bread, partially cut. He turned, finding a dull paring knife and hacked off three pieces of bread. After tucking them into his shirt, he peered out the curtain.
At Richard’s nod, he exited the pantry. “Here, Jer, try some bread. There’s no butter, but it should help.” Richard loped over from his sentry position to grab his piece. In his absence, a rotund woman burst into the room.
“What are you doing in my kitchen?” she demanded in a low voice. Jeremy and Richard shook, although they continued to scarf down their pieces of bread. “Who gave you permission to pilfer from my pantry?” Her pristine white apron failed to cover her girth, bulging over her pronounced bosom and abdomen.
“We were hungry, ma’am,” Gabriel said, holding his bread in his hand. “Our aunt told us to wait here, and we didn’t know when we’d eat again.”
Her face softened as she studied them. “Ah, you’re the orphans, taken in by the missus.” At their nod, she waved toward the bench, and they all sat. “A good meal can make almost anything right. It won’t in this case, although it will help a little.” She bustled toward a cupboard, pulled down three battered ceramic bowls in a mixture of rust and brown. She clunked them on a small workspace near the stove before reaching for a ladle. “Well, young sir, you seem to know where the bread is. Go and fetch it.”
Gabriel moved toward the pantry for the bread as the cook ladled out generous servings of beef stew for them. She placed a bowl in front of each of them, extracting the butter from the oak ice chest and cleaning a knife with her apron. “Tuck in afore the missus returns.” She raised her eyebrows knowingly at them as the three boys gobbled down their food. In a few short minutes, the bread and stew had been devoured, and the bowls were in the sink in another room waiting to be washed up.
“I’m glad I can count on you boys to keep your part of the bargain. When I decide to feed you, eat up. Understand?” All three nodded, and she winked a hazel eye as she bustled toward the stove, slamming the ladle down a few times just as their aunt burst back into the room.
“Oh, Mrs. Thynne, you’ve had to deal with these wretched boys in my absence. I hope they’ve been no bother,” Mrs. Masterson said.
“Not at all, missus. I found them sitting at the table, and they’ve watched me work until you arrived.” Mrs. Thynne smiled at Mrs. Masterson. “I’ve a lovely beef stew prepared for supper.”
“It would be perfect with your oatmeal bread.”
“Alas, it failed to rise this morning. I fear you’ll have to make do with the rolls from last night. But never fear, I’ve a lovely Indian pudding to settle the entire meal. Will the young men be joining you in the dining room?”
“No, they will not. And I don’t want them eating anything until this evening, as their insolence knows no bounds. Especially the eldest, Gabriel. They must learn to respect those who are willing to take in their wretched souls.”
“As you say, missus. They will not eat at this table until this evening.”
“I’d be lost without you in the kitchen, Mrs. Thynne. I’m the envy of every woman in the area. You truly are a magician in the kitchen.”
“I thank you, ma’am.” Mrs. Thynne nodded toward the boys. “Do I need to organize baths for them?”
“If you would be so good as to have the girls do so. I know it’s not the day for it, but it would be a help as they smell like cinders. I’ve been looking through Henry’s and Nicholas’s clothes, but I find little that would be of any value to this brood. I’ve had Adams send one of the boys out for clothes.”
“That’s very kind of you, ma’am,” Mrs. Thynne said as she moved toward the pantry.
“If you ruin this set of clothes I’m purchasing for you, you will be naked. Do you hear me?” she warned as she turned toward her nephews.
“Yes, Aunt
,” they intoned.
“Although it might have been better for the three masters to go with the boys to help with sizing,” Mrs. Thynne said from inside the pantry.
Mrs. Masterson moved toward it but did not enter before Mrs. Thynne exited. “I asked for the clothes to be big. That way they’ll grow into them.”
Richard leaned over and whispered in Gabriel’s ear, “Why doesn’t she talk to us? We’re right here.”
Gabriel whispered, “It’s better not to be her only focus.” He raised and lowered his eyebrows as he had seen Mrs. Thynne do, feeling sophisticated until his aunt smacked him on his head.
“Insolent, whispering when you ought to be listening to me. Your room should be ready by now. I expect you to go to it and not to leave it until you are instructed to either by me or Mrs. Thynne.”
“Yes, Aunt,” Gabriel and Richard said as the three orphaned boys trudged down the hallway alone, Jeremy in front.
They pushed open their door, a loud creaking sound rending the air. The excess furniture had been removed along with the years’ worth of dust and debris. Three cots were lined up in front of them with barely any room for them to walk along the base of them. A small table and chair were crammed at the foot of the farthest cot, with the desk and chair parallel to the cot, the desk protruding into the small walking space. Faded green wool blankets covered each bed, and a lumpy pillow rested at the head of each cot. No pictures or photos adorned the room. A small half window let in daylight.
“Well, this is home now,” Gabriel said. He pointed to the cot against the farthest wall with the desk at its foot. “Jer, I want you to sleep there. Rich, you can be in the middle. I’ll be here, closest to the door.”
Richard and Jeremy nodded and clambered onto their cots. They squeaked with the boys’ movement, but as the McLeods settled, so did the sound. “Gabe, what are we going to do all afternoon?” Richard asked.
“I don’t know. For now I’d rest. I suspect we won’t have much of that with our aunt.” He rolled onto his side, away from his brothers and closed his eyes as tears leaked out. He heard his brothers’ breathing rhythms change as they fell into sleep, and Gabriel hugged his arms around himself as he fought sobs. He thrust away images of his dead parents, instead remembering them alive and vibrant in their cramped living area. He thought of his father entering their home, his booming voice and arms open for hugs as he listened with eager attentiveness to their stories about the day. Of his mother and her cooking mishaps. He longed to smell the pot of cloves and cinnamon concealing the scalded scent from her latest cooking disaster. He fell asleep with a smile on his face, dried tear tracks on his cheeks.
CHAPTER THREE
GABRIEL AWOKE WITH A START, completely disoriented. He looked around the cramped room at the barren walls. His panicked gaze took in his brothers lying side by side on tiny cots next to him. Another loud rap at the door, the noise that Gabriel belatedly realized had awakened him, sounded a moment before the door opened. He scrubbed at his face, rubbing away any tear tracks that remained.
“Your clothes have arrived, young masters,” Mrs. Thynne intoned as she took a step into the room, unable to enter any farther due to the small size of the room and her protruding stomach. “I’ve a pile for each of you, and I expect you to try them on before supper. Which won’t be for another few hours. I’m glad you were sensible and slept.” She dropped a brown-paper-wrapped package tied loosely shut with string on each cot and left, shutting the door with a loud creak.
Gabriel looked over at Jeremy and Richard who lay on their cots with their arms behind their necks in identical positions. “If we have a few hours, what’s the point of rushing into trying them on?” Richard asked.
“I wouldn’t trust Aunt not to invade our space soon to determine how her money has been spent,” Gabriel said as he scooted toward the end of his cot, while the top teetered up. He quickly rose to prevent the cot from tipping upward and him ending on the ground. He shared a grin with his brothers as Jeremy giggled.
“Do that again, Gabe,” Jeremy said.
“I imagine I’ll do that every time I try to get out of that darned thing, Jer. You’ll see that plenty enough.” Gabriel rose, ripping open his package to find black pants, an indigo long-sleeve shirt, two pairs of underclothes and socks. “Still no shoes. How are we supposed to do anything without shoes?”
As he pulled out the shirt, a small handkerchief fell out with two oatmeal cookies inside. “Cookies,” Gabriel breathed.
“I want them!” Richard said as he grasped at them.
Gabriel held them over his head. “Get your own,” he said as he pointed to their packages on their cots.
Richard and Jeremy unceremoniously ripped into their packages, digging through clothes identical to Gabriel’s until they found their cookies. They held them for a few moments, smelling them.
“These don’t smell burned like Mum’s,” Richard said.
“I agree,” Gabriel said. “Remember what Mrs. Thynne said. Anytime we have food, to eat it up fast. So let’s eat these up. I wouldn’t want her to get in trouble for being nice to us.”
They gobbled down their cookies; at the initial bite, each boy emitted a long sigh as they had their first taste of a properly baked cookie in their lives, before finishing their allotment of two cookies each in under a minute. “Let’s put the napkins under my mattress.” Gabriel held out his hand for each of theirs before he lifted his mattress and placed all three underneath.
Gabriel began to shuck his sooty, charred clothes before pulling his shirt back over his head as another loud rap sounded. Gabriel opened the door.
“Before you dirty those nice new clothes, follow the young miss here to the laundry room where a tub has been set up for you three to bathe. Bring your packages with you and change into your clothes there.” Mrs. Thynne smiled as she wiped at her mouth as though smudging away cookie crumbs.
Gabriel looked toward Jeremy and Richard, wiping his mouth and silently encouraging them to do the same. They did and then collected their packages before marching down the hallway to a humid room with clothes strung around. The young girl pointed to the tub in the middle of the room before shutting the door behind her.
“I’ll act as sentry while you both take the first turns in the bath,” Gabriel said. He stood in front of the door, preventing anyone from entering. Jeremy stripped and entered the warm water. He took the soap offered by Richard, wrinkling his nose as he used it. After scrubbing himself, he stood and exited, toweling off and joining Gabriel by the door as he donned clothes two sizes too big.
“You’ll grow into them soon enough,” Gabriel murmured. “Why didn’t you like the soap?”
“It smells of some flower,” Jeremy said in a disgruntled tone.
Gabriel laughed, waiting until Richard was washed and dressed before Gabe moved to bathe. The water was tepid at best by this point, and he washed quickly. “I can see why you didn’t like the soap, Jer,” Gabriel said. “Although I really like being clean.”
He donned his new clothes, also too big. He rolled up both the shirtsleeves and pant legs. “At least we don’t have to wear those short pants like our cousins.”
“You may say they’re my cousins, but I’ll never consider them my cousins,” Richard said.
Gabriel placed a hand on the door to keep it closed, watching Richard with concern. “Think that when we are in our room with the door closed. Think that in here. But never let Aunt know,” Gabriel said. “Because whether we like it or not, we’re stuck with her.”
“Uncle Aidan will come for us.”
“I hope so, Rich, but you know how irregular his visits were. We can’t count on him. The only ones we can count on are the three of us. And hopefully Mrs. Thynne to feed us.” Gabriel squeezed his shoulder. “Please, Rich.”
Richard nodded as Gabriel opened the door. They returned to their room where they told stories and made up ones to pass the time until supper.
***
GABRIEL L
ED HIS YOUNGER BROTHERS to the kitchen, Jeremy peeking out behind him, as one of the footmen cleared his throat in distress at their presence. Gabriel lifted his chin, meeting the footman’s glowering gaze with one of defiance. “Where should we sit, Mrs. Thynne?”
“You boys should sit on the bench near the wall.” She pointed with her spoon and cast a severe glare at the other staff milling about, daring them to contradict her. They fell silent, and everyone found seats. Mrs. Thynne served bowls of beef stew and slabs of crusty, day-old bread to dunk into it.
Gabriel and his brothers ate, ignored by the other servants as conversation flowed around, but never included, them. Mrs. Thynne kept her silence and didn’t attempt to engage the boys in conversation. When the rest of the staff rose to continue their duties, Mrs. Thynne nodded for Gabriel, Jeremy and Richard to remain seated. They sat again as the staff dispersed, most heading upstairs, some walking down the corridor near the boys’ room.
“What have we done now?” Gabriel asked, tossing his head in a show of defiance.
“You take that tone again with me, young man, and you won’t like it,” she said with a tap to his head with a wooden spoon. Gabriel flinched more from the tone in her voice than from the pain inflicted by her reminder upon his head. Gabriel flushed and nodded.
“Good. I wanted you to sit here a few minutes as I can’t imagine it’s enjoyable in that cramped room of yours. And I wanted to give you some advice. Don’t try to make friends with anyone here. They’ve all been advised that any who are perceived as befriending you will lose their jobs.”
“But what about you?” Richard asked.
“I’m too fine a cook for her to let me go. Besides, I already have five offers of employment in other homes if I were to leave here.” Mrs. Thynne smiled with pride.
“Don’t leave,” Gabriel said before he could stop himself. He looked down, not wanting to see the pity in her gaze.
“I’m not going anywhere. But here, take these with you.” She held out another small stack of cookies. Jeremy reached for one, gobbling it up in a few short bites. She smiled with pleasure. “Ah, I can see I will have an appreciative audience for my cooking in you three. Although I’ll have trouble keeping you fed.” She glanced toward the door. “Off with you now.”