Kingdom of Ash and Soot

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Kingdom of Ash and Soot Page 7

by C. S. Johnson


  It was only when Cecilia finally found her voice again that I was released from my indecision.

  “That’s no matter. You are trespassing in my home, and I will deal with you.”

  “Unfortunately, you are wrong on both accounts,” Lady Penelope replied. “This is not your home, and my man of affairs shall take business with your man of affairs. In the meantime, while we settle the details that have been neglected since the death of my daughter, I will take up residence in the manor’s west wing.”

  Cecilia sputtered, unable to form a coherent response.

  Dismissing Cecilia, Lady Penelope turned to Lord Maximillian. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Your Grace. I apologize for the intrusion. Perhaps over the next few hours we will be become better acquainted as you begin to search for new lodgings.”

  Lord Maximillian blinked. “Beg pardon, Your Grace,” he began, “but is this a very opportune moment to make your acquaint—”

  Cecilia found her voice in time to object. “Max, I beg your patience in this matter.”

  “You cannot expect one such as His Grace to stay here while the ownership of this estate is being debated by men of law,” Lady Penelope said. She added enough abhorrence to her voice to suggest that it was among the most scandalous of activities. “Why, the very thought is appalling. Indeed, it would be very unfortunate for His Grace. I imagine the rumors alone would destroy his reputation among his business partners and his daughter’s potential suitors.”

  “My son is his daughter’s suitor!”

  “But surely that was before the integrity of his estate was questioned?” Lord Maximillian said, and I almost laughed at the sputtering rage on Cecilia’s face.

  It made me wonder if the Duke was looking for a way out of their agreement on his own.

  Lady Penelope shook her head, before turning back to her two guards—companions?—behind her. “I fear we are indeed a long way from London, if this is the sort of practice we find in these places. And I remember Prague as such a refined city, too; it is a shame how its stock has fallen since I last visited.”

  Cecilia’s face burned. She turned back to the Duke. “I seem to have some unexpected business I need to see to immediately, Max. Pray, continue with the celebration while I handle these unfortunate matters. Then we will discuss our arrangement.”

  “Nothing would please me more, Cecilia. It seems we will have to renegotiate.”

  With her nostrils flaring, Cecilia beckoned Lady Penelope to follow her out of the great hall.

  I was not surprised when Lady Penelope remained where she was. “I believe I will be the one to dismiss you,” Lady Penelope said. “I will confer with you in tomorrow morning, in the library in the west wing.”

  Cecilia scowled, so furious her face was twitching. “You assume too much, Lady Penelope.”

  “And you are playing a very dangerous game,” Lady Penelope replied. She took a menacing step toward Cecilia, and Cecilia immediately backed down.

  Priscilla, my stepsister, finally decided it was her turn to speak up. “Does this mean our party is over?”

  I groaned, but I knew that if Prissy said anything, it was sure to be something ill-timed or completely ignorant. She was Cecilia’s doted daughter, and I never knew her to take anything serious except for her food intake and daily exercise routine. Like Empress Elisabeth, she often spent days fasting. If we could have afforded it, Cecilia would have set up a gymnasium right next to Prissy’s room. It was the only thing I had ever heard Cecilia deny her.

  “It is very unfortunate that I did arrive in the middle of your celebration,” Lady Penelope said, talking more to everyone in the great hall rather than just Priscilla. “By all means, continue on. The good Lord knows that there might not be anything at all to celebrate tomorrow.”

  “Is that a threat?” Cecilia hissed.

  Lady Penelope gave her a dazzling, devious smile. “Of course it is, Lady Cecilia. And a very credible one, would you not agree?”

  “We could have you arrested for that!” Alex finally stood, angry and ready to fight.

  Lady Penelope turned her eye to him. “I see I have been too quick to assume that Lady Cecilia was the lady of the household. My apologies. You have my attention, young sir.”

  I saw him wince at her wry tone, but Alex held his ground. “You should leave immediately, Madame.”

  “You have my apologies for my assumptions,” Lady Penelope said, “but hardly for my logic. The orders I have issued will go observed, despite your bravado, young man.”

  “You cannot—”

  “You would be most wise not to tell a lady what she can or cannot do. Consider that lesson a welcome gift. Now, sit down and return to your silence. I would hate for you to embarrass yourself even further.”

  Alex was not used to having his wishes denied, let alone his intelligence or authority questioned. Like a dog with his tail tucked between his legs, he sat down and slumped over in his seat.

  “My son is right,” Cecilia said.

  “Hardly. I assure you, Madame, I have come well prepared for any amount of force, legal or otherwise, that you could possibly muster against me.”

  “No one can verify who you are,” Cecilia insisted.

  Lady Penelope walked up to her. Each step was a slow, deliberate act of pure intimidation. Cecilia flinched as Lady Penelope reached into her cloak.

  I watched, unblinking, as she produced a letter, shut with an elaborate wax seal.

  “No one less than Her Imperial Highness, Queen Victoria, can provide the details of my person.” Lady Penelope handed the letter to Cecilia. “She was kind enough to ask for your willing assistance in settling our legal matters. She recalls your previous husband’s kindness to her and her son, Leopold. She remembers how, during the week of German and Prussian reception, he once caught Leopold as he fell out of a tree, no doubt saving him grave injury, and she wishes you well.”

  Cecilia’s fists were shaking as she tore open the letter and read it. When she was done, I could tell she was having a hard time not screaming.

  It’s true.

  The murmurings continued, more awkwardly. Lord Maximillian looked over to Cecilia, uncertain, as Teresa Marie asked about her marriage contract to Alex, and Alex only looked viciously appalled.

  “If you are satisfied, take your seat and finish entertaining your guests, before I relieve you of that duty as well.” Lady Penelope waved her hand, and slowly, ever so slowly, Cecilia backed away, her resolve as neutered as Alex’s bluster.

  Lady Penelope nodded approvingly, her contempt apparent even as she remained calm. “Now, I will excuse myself and see to the details of my stay.”

  Before I could do anything else, Cecilia turned and stormed out of the great hall, headed right for me. Her fluffy skirts whipped against me as she passed, and fury suddenly boiled into her eyes.

  “Eleanora, this is unacceptable!”

  “It is hardly my fault that the grandmother I did not even know existed came to call tonight,” I said.

  “You mark my words,” she bit back, wagging her finger at me, practically mad with rage. “You will pay for what you have done tonight.”

  Anger simmered inside me. “But I didn’t do anything!”

  “That’s enough.” I looked over and saw Lady Penelope standing just behind Cecilia. “You have been dismissed to your room. I can have a guard escort you, if you insist on making this more difficult.”

  Cecilia cursed before flying down the hall.

  Lady Penelope looked at me, and for the first time she seemed visibly discomforted. “Eleanor.”

  “Eleanora,” I corrected her.

  She winced. “Apologies ... Eleanora. You ... you look so much like your mother.”

  I could only nod. What else am I supposed to do? Curtsy?

  Lady Penelope also seemed at a loss for what to do, as all of her earlier gusto disappeared. It was not a look that suited her, and she seemed to agree; a moment later, she cleared her throat.
“I request you join me in the library in the west wing shortly.”

  “Should I bring Ben, too?” I asked.

  “Ben?”

  “Benedict. My older brother.”

  Her somber expression further saddened. “I see. Yes, bring him as well. We will talk then.”

  Lady Penelope turned away and headed off, and I heard small footsteps as they shuffled behind me. “Are you feeling well, Nora?” Betsy asked, putting her hand on my arm.

  Almost as a reflex, I patted her hand, comforting her even though I was the one who needed it more. “I have to go and get Ben,” I said, deflecting her question. “Excuse me.”

  I have to tell Ben about this.

  That thought was the only thing that propelled me forward. As I headed toward the stables, where Ben would likely be, I felt another strange sense of absurdity take hold of me, much as I had felt earlier in the Cabal with Clavan and Ferdy. Only this time there were so many more questions I had—questions that hurt to even think, let alone ask.

  Why is our grandmother coming to see us now?

  Táta had been gone for ten years. She had not come to the funeral. I thought of that day in the church, with Father Mueller, with Cecilia and Priscilla and Alex. Even Lord Maximillian had been there, along with Ben and me.

  Ben was truly the only family I had left. Our father had no other siblings, and he was the last of his line. I knew that well enough—that was the reason Cecilia was able to gain control of his estate so well. Ben was neither old enough, nor deemed fit enough to challenge her.

  In all that time between the funeral and now, I had never even thought of our mother’s family. But Máma had been gone for even longer than Táta, and it was possible I never thought of her family because no one from her family came to her funeral mass.

  Of course she had been lost at sea, so there was no burial. It was possible that Lady Penelope had received the news too late.

  I had so many questions, and there was so much I did not know if I was ready to face. I did the only thing I could, which was the same thing I had done all those years ago, on the day of my father’s funeral in the small church.

  My steps slowed to a stop, and I leaned against the hallway wall for support. I clasped my hands together, bowing my head down to my chest. “Please, Lord,” I prayed softly, “help me.”

  Tears threatened to come, and despair momentarily choked me as I stood there, surrounded by uncertainty and darkness.

  But the moment, like all moments before it, passed, and I was able to take comfort in my faith. It was a bedrock of my life, having sustained me through the loss of my family; it kept me going through the hard times, it kept me silent during Cecilia’s floggings, and it kept me hopeful that Ben and I would one day find our freedom.

  Maybe this was the day. Maybe this was the day my life would change forever.

  At the thought, the memory of my mother’s bright laughter sang through me. “Dear Eleanora, my lovely one, your life can change at any moment; you need only be brave enough to let it.”

  I clung to that thought—that wish—as I continued onward, looking for my brother.

  *5*

  ◊

  Seemingly hours later, I watched Ben as he mindlessly picked at the dirt underneath his fingernails. We were stationed outside of the library, both of us silent.

  I had a feeling Ben was going through the same tumultuous turmoil as I was; as I gave him an overview of what happened in the dining hall, his expressions shifted constantly, ranging from amused to angry to suspicious.

  “Do you think she’s really our grandmother?” I finally asked Ben.

  “No one with that kind of coach and team would come to our manor in Bohemia if it were not for real,” Ben said. “Besides, it makes sense. She is British, as Máma was, and she’s clearly a member of the higher social circles. And remember, when Máma left us, she was headed for London.”

  “And then her ship went down,” I remembered. “Táta was devastated.”

  “We were all devastated, Nora. Táta wasn’t the only one.”

  The door opened behind us, held open by one of Lady Penelope’s companions wearing a long cloak. He shuffled back, keeping his face hidden under the hood, and I was just about to ask him what he wanted when I heard Lady Penelope call out from inside the room.

  “You may enter.”

  Ben and I exchanged a quick glance, and then the two of us walked into the room.

  The doors shut quickly behind us, and my attention was immediately focused on the lady sitting at my father’s desk.

  Up close, Lady Penelope had even more formidable features. The wrinkles around her eyes complimented her resolve, while her high forehead suggested intelligence and insight. Her lips, though they were thin with age, curled into a small, somewhat welcoming smile as she looked at us. “It is good to see you.”

  Ben and I bowed and curtsied respectively, unsure of what else to do.

  She waved her hand, brushing our formalities aside. “There’s no need for that. Now, I imagine you have a lot of questions for me.”

  “Yes,” I said, unable to resist. “It is not every day that one is introduced to one’s own grandmother.”

  “Especially when our mother has been dead for over ten years,” Ben added.

  Lady Penelope frowned at his surly tone. “I apologize if you are somewhat inconvenienced by my arrival,” she began, and then I cut her off.

  “As Lady Cecilia might have failed to mention to you, we have been more inconvenienced by your absence, Madame.”

  “She did not need to mention it,” Lady Penelope assured me, her voice still calm and level despite the anger within my words. “I have two perfectly good eyes; I can see it for myself. Cecilia is like a slow-acting poison; sweet at first, and then sickly, and finally too painful to hope for anything but a quick death. Your father must have been mad to have married her.”

  I looked over at Ben. He shifted his weight onto his straight leg entirely, hiding his begrudging agreement. I was suddenly glad he had left his crutch in the stables. I did not want to see our maternal grandmother cringe at the sight of it.

  “I can assure you, your stepmother will be paid back for all the pain she has caused, down to the last little prick.”

  “She should,” Ben muttered. “With interest.”

  “On that, we agree.” With her gray hair and her frosty face, Lady Penelope suddenly radiated a chilly aura. But as she softened her smile, warmth suddenly shone in her blue eyes—eyes that mirrored my own.

  Máma had eyes like that, too.

  I nodded, barely able to contain my delight, but Ben huffed. “I would have preferred it ten years ago.”

  Lady Penelope looked at him, taking in every detail. Her eyes raked him up and down, before she let out a tired sigh. “And I would have preferred it that your mother stay at home, rather than cross the sea to come to London.”

  As Lady Penelope made her way over to us, walking around my father’s desk, there was a small shuffling noise behind me. I glanced back to see the same man as before, straightening his shoulders and pulling at his cloak.

  “Well,” Lady Penelope said, “there is no point in questioning what happened back then. What is important is what we can do about the here and now.”

  “And ... you will be staying with us, then?” I asked.

  “Nora,” Ben hissed.

  Lady Penelope eyed him carefully. I watched her lips purse tightly, pinching her face into a scowl. “There is no need to be so hostile, Benedict. I am, after all, your grandmother. And you are correct. It is time I take up the duty my daughter’s departure has left me. I intend to not only pay Lady Cecilia back for her trouble, but I will do what I can to make it up to you.”

  “Really?” My heart beat faster as she nodded. Ben and I exchanged a glance. I was hopeful; he was distrustful.

  “What do you want in return?” Ben asked.

  I was about to assure Ben there was nothing we could possibly give Lady Penelope
when she gave him a wry smile “You’re a clever young man, aren’t you?”

  My heart sank. “But we can’t give you anything. “We have no money to offer.”

  “I’m not after money, am I?” Lady Penelope stood tall as she looked back at me. “You are so much like your mother, Eleanora. And I believe I may yet have a use for you.”

  “Pepé.”

  A guard spoke up and stepped forward. Ben and I watched as Lady Penelope frowned at him.

  The man removed the hood of his cloak, revealing his tan face. He was a man who had clearly traveled the world, all the way from his home in the East Indies to the streets of London. From his crown of bright white hair, I would have said he was close to Lady Penelope’s age, though there was something about him that seemed ageless.

  “Pepé, I must object,” he said. “These are your grandchildren.”

  Lady Penelope shrugged. “Then it’s not your concern, is it, Harshad?”

  “It is my concern if we are compromised.”

  “We need not worry about what might be.”

  “Your duty has higher demands,” Harshad said.

  “Is there any higher demand than family?”

  Harshad’s eyes narrowed. “You swore your life over to a different ideal.”

  “I made my vow to God, and God himself has given us the blessing of family. Fealty to one cause does not preclude another.”

  Up until that moment, I had only seen Lady Penelope calmly and coolly dismiss any arguments or objections at Cecilia’s hysteria and Ben’s distrustful sneering. As she battled against Harshad, she quickly lost her calm and fire replaced it.

  At my inquiring gaze, she immediately switched to another language, still bitterly exchanging verbal blows with Harshad. Even as they spoke in what I guessed was an Indian tongue, I could tell they were nowhere close to a compromise.

  Taking the opportunity, I took a moment to study Harshad; I saw he was slightly shorter than Lady Penelope, only a little taller than myself. His accent was distinct, and even when he had spoken in English, his heritage seemed to carry the essence of his past. From his tone, I could tell he was a stubborn man, deeply rooted in his beliefs.

 

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