Love's First Flames (Banished Saga, 0.5) (3 page)

“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 your 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.”

“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.