City of Ruin, page 15
Paige’s head bobs up and down. “Papa knew you’d want to see them.”
“I . . .” My mouth hangs open as her words register. “Your father wanted me to see the children?”
My palm presses against the glass as the carriage continues past the brick foundry. “He is many things, but he is not a tyrant,” I whisper, remembering Prudy’s words. Still, as I picture Blackburn looming over me in the dining room last night, the rage in his eyes and dangerously sharp edge in his voice, it’s hard to fathom such a kindness. But then, there was genuine concern in his voice this morning . . .
Confusion and shock turn to excitement, however, as we draw closer to the village, and all my apprehension falls away.
Small brick and stone homes line both sides of the cobbled road, gardens and overgrown vegetation between some of them. Storefronts dot the sidewalks ahead, and I realize this is the hub of the Briarwood estate, Blackburn and the manor only its figurehead.
“So,” I murmur, peering around. “This is Emberbrook.” First, we pass a brick mason and butcher shop, then a cider house, and a bakery. Most of their signs are faded, and many of the buildings are cracked and look ready to crumble despite the steel framing that holds them together.
I blink a few times, awed by how quintessentially old-world it still seems as we pass more homes and storefronts. “This is where all the foundry workers live?”
“Yep.” Paige nods emphatically as she peers out at the few people walking about. It’s only as some of them head into a chapel that I remember it’s Sunday.
People watch the carriage, eyes wide and curious, as we continue through the village, toward a larger house set off the road. Its brick facade boasts more windows and three chimneys, making it grand compared to the others. As the carriage slows in front of it, I dare to hope it’s where the children live—rooms enough for each of them—when voices, chirping and gleeful, meet my ears.
Leaning to the other window, I spot the children on a slight hill, kicking a ball back and forth. I barely have time to make out their faces before they spot the carriage and come running. They are a blur of limbs, laughter, and new clothes—simple brown pants and skirts, like those of the other children who follow—and all of them, both familiar faces and new, are smiling.
“Selene!”
I wave as I fling the door open, and the pain in my ankle is forgotten as I step out. Beatrice wraps her good arm around me first, the other still in a sling, though it’s better than the one I made for her.
“I knew you’d come visit us!”
“Where have you been?”
“I’ve missed you!”
Jon, Evie, and Beatrice talk over each other, and as they embrace me, I inhale their fresh scent. Soap and dirt and something indescribable that is uniquely them. “I’ve missed you too,” I whisper, squeezing them closer. I kiss the top of Evie’s head and exhale the heavy weight of worry that’s been coiling inside me for years—worry I’ve held on to since I realized I’d grown attached to them so soon after we met—and I feel weightless.
“Have you all been good?” I ask, finally taking a step back. Though it’s only been days, it feels like an eternity since I’ve seen them.
“Yes,” Evie answers. “Well, all of us but Jon—”
“Hey!” He smacks her arm. “I have too.”
“No, you talk back to Victoria whenever she wants you to get cleaned up.”
I give Jon a warning look, and he rolls his eyes. “If she is kind to you, you must be kind to her,” I tell him, but I can’t be too stern, not when the children look well rested and fed. Not when I can’t stop smiling. “You all look wonderful,” I tell them. “I’ve been fretting for nothing.”
“What did you think we’d look like?” Jon asks.
“I expected—well . . .” I sigh. “It doesn’t matter.” Taking Evie’s hand, I rise to my feet, ignoring the pain shooting through my leg. “So, tell me everything. What have you been doing? Have you been working hard? Because it looks like you’ve been playing in the dirt all day.”
“It’s Sunday,” Beatrice says with a smile. “They don’t make us work on the day of rest.” That she smiles at all is a miracle.
“I’m very glad to hear it.” Utterly content, I tuck a dark, unruly curl behind her ear as a door creaks open behind us.
Nell steps out of the house and onto the porch, wiping her hands on the apron she wears. “Victoria said you’d come,” she says, and hurries down the steps. Flour streaks Nell’s face, and her rosy cheeks widen as she grins.
Tears of relief burn my eyes, but I blink them away.
“I didn’t think it would be in time for breakfast, though.”
My head tilts with surprise. “You’re making breakfast?”
“Well . . .” She shrugs. “I’m helping, at least. Victoria is teaching me. She’s got a lot of mending to do, and a lot of cooking with the other ladies, so I’ve been learning how to do both.”
“Cooking and mending?”
“Yes.” Nell nods, and there’s a sparkle in her bright brown eyes I haven’t seen before. I think it’s pride. Pride that she can be useful, that Victoria and the others would take the time to teach them skills beyond those promised in servitude.
“I like cooking best, so far. And since you already taught us to read, I’m helping Victoria learn.” Nell beams with more pride. “We’ve been practicing a little before bed. Hopefully we can teach the others.”
I’m not sure my heart can swell much more and I brush the crook of my finger over her cheek. “And what about the rest of you?” I say, glancing between them as we meander toward the house. “Are any of you working in the foundry?”
“Nell and I are,” Beatrice supplies. “Well, in the food house, that is, with some of the older ladies, and Victoria, when she’s not mending.”
“And what about you two?” I ask, running my fingers through Jon’s floppy hair. “What do you do to help?”
“We help clean up after lunch,” Evie says proudly.
“And me and the other boys help load the coal for the furnaces,” Jon adds. “And we tend to the horses that pull the carts filled with iron.”
“You work with the horses?” Eyes wide, I shake my head. “So many surprises.”
“What about you?” Nell says, glancing at the carriage behind me. “Where did he take you?”
“Oh!” I spin around and find Paige peering out the coach window, watching us with unease. “Paige, come—meet my friends!” I call to her. “I’ve told Paige all about you,” I explain as I hurry to her. “Forgive me.” Taking her hand, I help Paige out of the carriage. “I lost myself for a moment.” Her eyes shoot from me to the children, and we head toward them. Her little hand squeezes mine, but I note her curiosity and excitement seem to outweigh her apprehension.
Beatrice and the others stare at Paige, just as curious.
“Paige, this is Jon and Evie. They are the twins I told you about.” Though Paige is a couple of years younger, she’s nearly as tall as they are. “And this is Nell,” I say with a nod. “And Beatrice.”
Paige eyes Beatrice’s arm. “What happened to you?”
Beatrice lifts her sling slightly. “I was hurt in a quake,” she explains.
Absently, Paige picks at the leather belt on her dress and glances between the children. “Do you want to be my friends?” she asks, and I bite my lip so as not to smile. “I can show you how to skip rocks, and you can come over and meet Midnight—”
“Well, hello there, Miss Paige.” A rich alto meets my ears, and a woman with dark skin and beautifully long, braided gray hair steps down from the porch behind me.
“Victoria!” Paige runs to her and gives the woman a side hug.
“You’re so big—when was the last time I saw you?” Victoria’s smile is wide and welcoming, and when her eyes meet mine, she dips her chin.
I smile in return, feeling more gratitude for this woman than she can possibly comprehend.
But her expression is a knowing one as she leads Paige back to us. “You must be Selene,” she says, offering me her hand. Her fingers are long and elegant, but rough against mine. I sober a little, grasping once again how much has changed since I arrived in Briarwood.
“And this must be your handiwork.” I gesture to my new dress. “It’s so beautiful. Thank you. I hadn’t expected such a gift.”
Victoria chuckles softly. “I’m just happy it fits.” She takes a step back to look at me. “Prudy didn’t give me much to go off of.”
“It’s perfect,” I promise her.
Victoria nods with satisfaction as she scans me once more. “Well, I’m glad to hear it.” With another smile, she glances at the children. “Paige, I think Oliver heard you coming,” she says with a wink.
The freckles on Paige’s cheeks lift with a giddy grin. “Come on!” she shouts, and waves for the children to follow. “Come meet Oliver.” The three of them scamper off, jumping over hay bales and weaving around outbuildings as they head toward a large stable.
“Don’t run. You’ll spook the horses!” Victoria calls out.
Beatrice follows, not as excited, but there’s a pep in her step that wasn’t there before we arrived at Briarwood.
“Beatrice, make sure they hurry back for breakfast, would you?” Beatrice nods, and Victoria turns her attention to me. “An old draft horse,” she explains. “He’s huge and harmless, and Paige absolutely adores him.”
Nell laces her fingers with mine. “Are you all right?” she asks with quiet concern. She tilts her head, assessing me.
“Yes,” I promise, squeezing her hand with a smile. “I’m simply . . . processing, that’s all. I didn’t know we were coming here. And I’ve missed you so much.” I swallow the lump in my throat. “I’ve been so worried. But I’m glad it was for nothing.”
“I’ll leave you two to catch up,” Victoria says as she turns back toward the house. “Take your time. I’ll ring the bell when the biscuits are finished, and you can come in for a bite to eat before Paige and the children show you around Emberbrook.”
“Thank you,” I say over my shoulder. Victoria waves her hand, and I follow Nell to a little garden area to take a turn, my mind awhirl with elation.
26
SELENE
My heart is full, and I’m strangely content when we leave the Bartholomew home to continue our tour of the estate. While a part of me doesn’t want to leave the children, the other half, divested of worry, fills with anticipation, and even a little shame.
I don’t know how I will face Blackburn tonight at dinner when it’s just the three of us again. The accusations I’d slung at him last night at the table seem so horribly outrageous now, after the good he’s done in bringing the children here—in bringing me here.
As the carriage continues down an unmarked lane, toward a crumbled stone village, mortification burns in my chest once again.
“I liked them,” Paige says, a rejuvenated trill in her voice.
I smile to myself, relief and contentment still overflowing in me. “Good, I’m glad.” I glance at her. “They liked you very much.”
“How do you know?” The muted afternoon sunlight glistens in her strawberry hair.
“Because I know them better than I know anyone,” I promise, and with a growing smile, Paige peers out the window as we continue down the road.
We don’t get much farther before the carriage shudders and lurches to a stop.
“Christ!” Gibson shouts, and I open the door and peer toward the horses. Gibson jumps down, mumbling something as he attends to the wheel.
“Is it broken?” I ask as I step down from the coach. My feet squish in the damp earth.
Gibson glances up from the wheel, buried halfway in mud as thick as churned butter. “Nah, miss, but it is stuck. Both of them are.”
Bending down, I peer under the carriage at the farthest wheel and see that he’s right.
“Can I help somehow?” I ask, uncertain how he’s going to get us out of this. “I might be able to urge the horses forward while you dig out the wheels?”
“It’s no worry, miss. It happens all the time.” He points down the lane. “If you and little Blackburn want to head on, I’ll meet you at the village once I get this sorted.”
“Are you certain?” Glancing around, I realize I do not know where we are.
“Aye. It’s only a quarter mile down the road. I’ll be with you shortly.”
“I know the way,” Paige boasts proudly, and she takes my hand. “Come on, then.”
Gibson winks at his young mistress, and with an encouraging nod from him, I obediently follow.
Sidestepping the muddiest parts of the road, we make our way down the wooded path.
“Does your father mind you traipsing around the estate like this? It would be an inconvenience to anger him after I promised to behave.” I chuckle to myself, and while I hope he won’t be upset, I can’t deny I’m more eager to walk the wild, bending road in a place so beautiful and foreign to me, than to get off my throbbing ankle.
“He won’t mind—Look!” she says, dipping with a squeak to pick up a flat rock. “It’s perfect for skipping!”
“It sure is. You should keep it.”
Paige nods and happily stows it in her dress pocket for later.
Suddenly, I remember the figure by the pond outside my window. And how it stood in the path during the storm last night. Whatever uncertainties I had that it might be Blackburn are gone, and I can’t help but wonder if Paige and I are truly alone. Appraising the landscape with fresh eyes, I search the rustling leaves and creaking boughs above for something insidious, but I don’t see anything, nor do I feel its presence.
“Paige,” I start, uncertain how to proceed without frightening her. “Have you ever seen anything strange in the manor or around the estate?”
She looks at me, her lips pursed and her eyes a tad fearful. “Like what?”
“Old houses have silly stories and strange happenings, don’t they? And Briarwood is very old.”
Paige is thoughtful for a moment, which gives me little hope that my answers lie with her, and finally, she nods. “There was a noise in my room once,” she says, and I can tell she’s reaching for a faraway memory. “It woke me from my dream and I saw the drapes moving and shouted for Papa.”
“What was it?” I hold my breath in wait.
Paige’s face sours and she sticks out her tongue. “A giant rat. Papa killed it for me. And he let the field cats come into the house after that.”
“A rat,” I say, unable to hide my disappointment. I’ve seen more rats in my lifetime than I could possibly count. “Well, I’m glad you haven’t seen any more of them.”
Turning my thoughts from the mysterious figure, for now, I let Paige regale me about her time with the children as we continue on our walk. She chatters about Jon’s grumpy manner and asks about Beatrice’s broken arm, though I spare her some of the details.
“When will we get to see them again?” Paige asks, bouncing on her tiptoes.
“Well,” I start, realizing I have no idea. “I guess that’s up to your father. But hopefully soon, especially since you’re so fond of them.”
“We can ask him at dinner,” she muses.
“Yes, that’s a wonderful idea.”
Paige beams, and I’m about to ask her which village we’re headed toward now, when galloping horse hooves stop us in our tracks. A tall, slender man in a dark riding coat on a brown steed appears from around the bend in the trees.
They slow when he sees us, and his horse traipses closer. Though the rider has the imposing demeanor of Master Blackburn, he is the opposite in every other way. His brunette hair is short and perfectly groomed, and his deep-set eyes widen with a sudden smile. I’m not sure I like his smile.
“Aye, little Paige Blackburn,” he says. “Look how much you’ve grown since last I saw you.” His voice is smooth and unnerving as he gives me a slow perusal. “I see you and your . . . friend are enjoying the break in the rain.” I know this man, though I can’t quite place him.
“The carriage got stuck,” Paige explains. “But we’re hunting for skipping rocks!”
“You know this man, Paige?” I ask, not taking my eyes off of him. He is on Master Blackburn’s land, so I assume he isn’t too terribly dangerous, but there’s something about him I don’t like all the same.
“This is Master Draven of Northshire—he’s our neighbor.”
Draven. I recall the name, though I can’t quite remember what I’ve heard about him. It’s the first time we’ve met, but even so, there’s something familiar that makes me want to flee.
“Guilty as charged,” Draven says ruefully. “And will you not introduce me to your lovely companion, Paige?”
“This is my governess,” she chirps. “Miss Sinclair.”
Draven’s attention snaps back to me. His brow furrows, darkening his features before a smirk curves his lips. Politely, he dips his head. “Miss Sinclair,” he purrs, letting the words roll off his tongue. “Lovely to meet you.” It’s then I realize that I’ve seen him in the woods, the man in the mist, the day I arrived.
“A pleasure,” I lie. “Do you ride Master Blackburn’s estate often?” Though my question is innocent and curious enough, I eye him carefully.
“No,” he admits. “However, I’ve just had some business with him.”
“I see.” I flash him a false smile and reach for Paige’s hand. Business or not, there is something unsettling about him, and I’m itching to be as far away from him as I can. “It was lovely to meet you, Master Draven. But we must be on our way.” I tug on Paige’s arm. “Come on, then. We have things to do.”
Paige waves goodbye and falls into step beside me. “Good day to you,” I call over my shoulder, and when I look back, Draven dips his head, his smirk etched tightly in place. My skin crawls under his blatant gaze, and though I have the impulse to hurry, I refuse to let him know he’s unnerved me.
Eventually, Draven is far behind us, and the chestnut trees grow sparser as another meadow comes into view. When I notice more cottages, half-built and sprawling across the meadow, I recall the field of workers I’d seen the morning of my arrival. I barely recognize it as the same field with the progress they’ve made since last I saw it. Two cottages look near completion, though most still stand without completed walls or roofs.
