Armored Hearts (2 page)

Gareth rolled his eyes, knowing Mr. Strong couldn’t see. The man’s cheerful babble continued as he pushed him toward the house past the inn. The stone rolled between Gareth’s fingers, and he remembered the feeling of the girl’s lips on his cheek.

***

Gareth sat alone at dinner that evening, only picking at his plate. The long hardwood table seemed bigger than usual and the house was hollow and quiet with Tabitha away. Grandfather and Tabitha would be in London until the end of the month.

Grandfather could stay in town forever as far as Gareth was concerned. It was Tabitha he missed. His grandfather couldn’t even look him in the eye. Every time Grandfather’s hard gaze laid on Gareth, it accused him of falling short of what a legitimate heir should be. Accused him of being worthless because he was a cripple.

He swallowed hard and choked down the cold bite of food he’d taken. It clawed its way down his constricted throat. If only he could walk and run like the other boys. Then maybe he’d be at boarding school with them instead of the empty house. Or at least in London with Tabitha. He blinked hard when he remembered.
He could fly.

But had he really flown? Maybe it was some sort of fantasy he’d let get out of control. But there was the little girl. She was too real to be fantasy. Her body had been warm and soft against his, and her giant brown eyes had locked on him when he caught her. She’d smelled like flowers. He pulled the stone from his pocket and sniffed it again, closing his eyes.

It had to be real. If he flew once, could he do it again?

Gareth normally waited at the table for a servant to push him to the stairs, pick him up from his chair, and carry him to his chamber. He decided to wheel himself. The winding staircase of the Waverly Park unfolded before him like an uncurled tongue. He glanced about, just as the little girl had done before climbing the tree.

First he thought the word ‘fly,’ but nothing happened. He tried lifting his rear off the seat and pushing himself forward, but let out a stifled yelp of pain as his shoulder hit the railing before he fell onto the red carpet on the stairs.

Gareth pulled himself by the railing and stood. His legs wobbled but held. He rubbed his upper arm. It was sure to sport a bruise the next day. Strange how he was able to kick and stand but not able to walk. He used his leg to pull the chair closer. No doctor could explain it. His grandfather accused him of faking—like Gareth would choose to be stuck in the blasted chair.

He narrowed his eyes at the ugly, brown, wooden chair on wheels that kept him separated from life. His grandfather took Tabitha to the city every few months. Gareth had never been. His grandfather said making accommodations for him and his chair was too much trouble. He was almost a grown man, and yet a male servant bathed him. He hated the chair.

Gareth glanced up the stairs toward his chamber door. He thought about how he wanted to be there—to go there on his own, without a servant carrying him and going back for his chair. He stared at the door and willed himself there.

The door drew closer and closer. He glanced down. The stairs lay beneath him along with his chair. He was floating upward and toward his bed chamber. He thought he heard a servant coming and willed himself to go faster, like he’d done that morning in order to catch the little girl.

He pushed the door open and flew inside, kicking the door behind him. It slammed shut. The freedom of this new discovery made his soul take flight. Gareth flew to the ceiling and got a close-up view of the cherubs there and smiled. That was a rare thing, for Gareth to smile with Tabitha away. Until that moment, she was the only one capable of pulling one out of him.

A knock came from the door. Gareth hurried his descent and was seated on the bed by the time the door opened. Sarah peeked in. “Lord Gareth, are ye in here?”

Gareth gave her his usual grumpy look. “Where else would I be?”

“But yer chair is still downstairs and ye didna ring the bell fer Roberts. How’d ye get up here?”

Gareth’s words stumbled on his tongue as he made up an answer. “I…he… walked by me at the bottom of the stairs, and I had him carry me up.”

“He must’a fergot to go back fer yer chair. I’ll go fetch it fer ye.”

“No! I don’t want it in here.”

Sarah stepped in, her eyebrows furrowed. “Allow me to get ye ready fer bed.”

“No! I’m old enough to do that myself, too.”

“How?”

Gareth exploded. “I am the lord here when my grandfather is absent. Do not question me!”

Sarah bowed, eyes to the floor. “Yes m’lord. Sorry fer bein impertinent.” She left without looking up again and closed the door behind her.

Gareth bounded from his bed and grabbed hold of the wing chair in his room. He pushed it against his chamber door. His grandfather didn’t allow him a proper lock. He circled around, hovering just above the floorboards. What to do next? His gaze fell on the balcony doors.

He flew toward them and threw them open. The breeze blew through the leaves of the tree across from the window. With a smile, he soared over the railing. Gareth had never been in a tree before. He’d envied the little girl that morning and her ability to explore. Now he had his chance.

But not this tree. It was small and weak. He wanted to sit in his favorite tree. It was dark so no one would be out and about in the town’s square. He flew faster and faster through the graying darkness. The wind rushing through his hair tickled and he laughed freely. Gareth blinked against the chill night wind.

Within minutes Gareth found the town’s square and settled on a tree limb. His favorite oak tree now had a new memory. The tree the girl had climbed that very morning. The tree he’d watched countless little boys climb. Now he was there.

He looked down the path toward the house the little girl had gone back into earlier. He’d have to find out who she was and convince her to keep his secret.

Gareth took off toward the house and peered into one of the upstairs windows, but the room was empty. The bed was made, and stark white sheets covered the rest of the furniture. He made his way to the next window. It too was dark, empty, and dust sheets covered all the furniture. The whole house was devoid of life.

Was she a ghost after all? A phantom?

He fingered the stone in his waistcoat pocket. It was still there. Gareth heard a rustling sound below and looked down. Fear gripped at his chest at the thought of being discovered, but it was only a dog. It looked like Tabitha’s speckled brown mutt.

Gareth left the town and soared over open pastures and empty fields. It wasn’t until bats flew by and spooked him that he decided to go home.

He flew through his balcony doors. Standing in the middle of his room was wide-eyed Tabitha. Her orange tabby cat circled her legs.

“Gareth?”

His eyes shot to the door. The chair legs had made two deep scratches in the hardwood floor, and the door stood open only six inches. Enough for Tabitha to squeeze through. He quickly made his way to the door and slammed it shut. The chair nearly struck the floor. He righted it before flying to Tabitha and setting his feet on the floor in front of her. Blonde ringlets framed her face and fell into her eyes. Gareth pushed them aside, revealing round baby-cheeks.

“Hey, my favorite girl. Did you have fun in London?”

Her pupils nearly swallowed the blue of her eyes. She whispered, “You were flying. Like in the fairy stories Sarah tells me.”

Gareth calmed his racing heart. Would treating flying as normal be the best way to deal with this? “Yes, it’s a new trick I learned today. Want me to take you for a fly? It’s even better than a ride in my chair.”

She nodded enthusiastically and raised her arms to him. A smile grew on her lips. He lifted his little aunt to his hip and cradled her. “All right. But just a short trip around the room.”

He held her close as he buzzed around the ceiling a half dozen times. He reversed his path to keep them both from growing dizzy.

She giggled wildly until he shushed her. “Now this must be our secret. You can’t tell Lord Gerald or Sarah or anyone.”

“Why not?”

Gareth lowered his feet to the ground and set Tabitha on the floor before sitting on the bed. He raised his brows causing his forehead to wrinkle for emphasis. “Because then it wouldn’t be our secret. I never tell Lord Gerald about the animals you find and bring home, now do I?”

She shook her head. “No, you never do.”

“So can you keep this secret for me?”

Tabitha’s cat pawed and scratched at Gareth’s door. He flew over to it and quickly let it out. He turned back to face the blue-eyed little girl looking up at him. “Can you promise?”

Her eyes were like giant blueberries. “Yes, I promise.”

He patted her on the head. “Good girl. Now why are you back already?”

“I told Lord Gerald, I missed you too much.”

The words pulled that string in his heart again, making him feel sad and happy at the same time. Gareth took her in his arms and held the child to his chest. “I’m glad you’re back. I missed you, too. The house is empty with you gone.”

A knock sounded at the door.

“Yes?” Gareth called out.

Sarah peeked in. “Have ye seen… oh there ye are, little missy. Come now. Time to get ready for bed.”

Sarah stared at the grooves in the floor and eyed the chair sitting in an odd place. Her green eyes met his with a questioning glance, and he returned her look steadily. Neither said a word.

Tabitha took the maid’s offered hand. Sarah dropped her eyes and lead the child out, closing the door behind her.

For the very first time in his life, Gareth dressed himself. After pulling the stone from the pocket, he wadded his waistcoat into a bundle and threw it in a corner. He set the stone in a special place on top of his wardrobe where no one would find it. With a nod, he settled himself on his bed, lying down and pulling up the covers.

A new sense of life filled Gareth. He’d need to be careful. The staff was more alert with the old man home.

Gareth smiled as he drifted off to sleep. He dreamed of flying off and never coming back. But another dream intermingled with that one, filled with a honey-blonde girl and large brown eyes. A girl he’d never seen before and wondered if he’d ever see again.

Gareth watched nine-year-old Tabitha tuck bits of her dinner into her pockets as Grandfather spoke.
Treats for the mutt she’d found
. Gareth sighed and kicked her under the table. If Grandfather caught her, he’d ask her why, and then the dog would be discovered. She was already hiding the cat she’d found in the yard.

Tabitha’s sky blue eyes met Gareth’s. They were just like his grandfather’s eyes, but full of warmth and kindness. Gareth was the image of his father, except for the hazel eyes that belonged to his mother, or so he’d been told.

Gareth’s look was stern. She could sneak into the kitchen later and get something for the animals. He would help her keep her secret just as she’d kept his. The old man was growing stingier by the day. He had rid Waverly Park of most of its fulltime staff just the month before. Thankfully he’d kept Sarah for Tabitha’s sake. She was fond of the maid and her husband. If Grandfather disposed of the dog and cat, Tabitha would be heartbroken, and Gareth couldn’t allow that.

“And how are things in the parish?” Grandfather sliced the meat on his plate as he questioned the minister, who came by every Tuesday to join them for dinner.

Reverend Piper sat up in his chair. “We’ve had several parishioners’ homes robbed in the last week. Mrs. Duncan’s silver spoons were taken, along with Mr. Duncan’s gold watch. It’s dreadful. Just dreadful. These aren’t people with pockets full of silver and gold to spare. Those items were keepsakes—heirlooms. Things they’d probably do better selling for a bite to eat—only to be taken by some hoodlums.” He shook his head and bowed it.

“What’s been done?” Grandfather asked in a bored tone and never glanced up from his dinner. He didn’t really care about the locals.

“The authorities have been notified and are looking into it,” Reverend Piper answered, with his mouth full. He swallowed hard and continued, “All the intrusions have been on the east side of the village. Most of those hit are farmers already struggling to make it. Something like this only brings spirits down further.”

Tabitha chimed in, “What can be done for them?”

Her eyes were wide with concern. Gareth felt it too but he kept it masked. He was more practiced at hiding his true feelings.

Grandfather glared at Tabitha, his expression stern. “Children are to be seen and not heard. If you cannot remember that, you will go back to dining in the nursery.”

Tabitha’s head bowed. “Yes, Lord Pensees.”

Reverend Piper stammered, “It’s sweet of the child to be concerned, don’t you think?” He looked across the table at Tabitha. “We can pray that God will send help. A guardian to watch over the shire. And for someone to bring work to the town. Farming isn’t sufficient for the people here any longer.”

Tabitha peeked up at the minister but kept her head bowed. “I will pray for that now.” She closed her eyes in silent prayer.

Gareth watched, amazed at her sweetness and faith. How could she keep it when she lived in a house run by Grandfather? Hard to believe she was related to the old man at all. She cared about stray animals and desperate people. All she could do was pray, and he knew she would do so every night.

Her sweetness and desire to help was contagious as Gareth began to think and tune out the old men as they spoke.

***

Reverend Piper had left and Grandfather had retired for the evening, but Tabitha was nowhere to be found. She normally waited by the stairs to keep lookout for Gareth so he could get himself to his room. He checked in Grandfather’s office. He often found her there, practicing her arithmetic on parchment or glancing at some of the latest marvels pictured in the newspaper.

Gareth wheeled himself out of the empty study and around to look in another room, but she wasn’t there either. He pushed the wheels through the open space of the foyer and into the hall toward the kitchen. It wasn’t proper for him enter. It was below his station, but he pushed harder toward the room, regardless, once he heard Tabitha’s weeping.