She giggled. “You’re not fat, Lord Barnes.”
For a second, she stared at the popcorn bag as if she distrusted the contents. Her forehead creased. “Maybe I should save it for Pa. He sent me to town because his stomach was empty and causing him pain.”
“I think it’d be best you eat it before we drop you,” I said, thinking quickly. “Otherwise, he’ll wonder where you got it.”
“Yes, Miss Cooper.” She opened the bag and reached inside, pulling out a handful and stuffing it in her mouth. I decided against the lesson on manners. When a child was as hungry as Louisa, the last thing she needed was me lecturing her about how a young lady should eat popped corn.
I exchanged a look with Alexander before he clicked the reins and the horses began to trot. After a moment, I turned to Louisa. A path of tears had streaked her dirty face. She’d been crying.
She’d been in town to beg for fish heads from the Higgins brothers and had seen us all skating. I remembered the pang of jealousy; the awful sour feeling in the pit of my stomach; the sensation of acceptance that everyone in the world had more than I and always would. Their laughter and bright coats were swords that had slashed through me and cut away any hope that I belonged. I was on the outside of a world where there were such luxuries as a full stomach and ice-skating.
I kept all this to myself. But for all that was holy, this child would have a pair of skates before next Saturday, even if I had to beg Alexander to return mine and get her a pair instead.
“What will you make with the fish?” I asked.
“Soup. I got some turnips down in the cellar.” She flashed her shy smile. “I grew them all by myself.”
“How clever of you,” I said. “Did you keep the seeds and starters from the year before?”
Her expression darkened. She looked away and dug into the popped corn bag with new vigor. I couldn’t be certain, but I suspected she’d stolen the turnip starters from Alexander’s garden. If only he’d known, I’m sure he would have gladly shared. Regardless, this child was a survivor. If she had to steal from a neighbor’s barn, then she would do it to stay alive.
Again, I silently cursed Kellam. What kind of man made his child steal for food so he could fritter away any of his wages at the saloon?
We were at the entrance to the driveway now. A puff of smoke above the tree line hinted at the house where Louisa lived with her father. She’d managed to empty the bag of popcorn, which had dimmed the glint of hunger in her eyes. I took the bag from her. If she took the evidence into the house, who knows what could happen?
Louisa jumped from the sleigh before Alexander could get out to help her. “Thank you for the ride.” And with that, she began her trudge through the snow toward the thicket of trees that hid their shack from the road.
Fiona didn’t wake when Alexander carried her into the house and up the stairs to the girls’ room. It was nearly three by then, and she usually took an hour and a half nap. I watched from the doorway as he took off her boots and covered her with a blanket. Moved by how gentle his large hands were as they brushed her curls away from her cheeks, I had to fight the lump in my throat.
When she was settled, Alexander nudged me into the hallway and shut the door behind us.
“Harley brought the Wu family over this morning,” he said. “Should we go down and say hello?”
I tugged at the collar of his jacket. “Maybe a kiss first? We’re all alone for once.”
He pulled me close. “I can’t think of a better idea.”
After a long kiss that left us both breathless, we headed downstairs. Before we took the stairs down to the kitchen, Alexander stopped me for another kiss.
Alexander introduced me to Mrs. Wu and Li as the schoolteacher, Miss Cooper. All very proper, which made me want to giggle after our kisses.
Mrs. Wu and Lizzie were at the island rolling out some kind of dough. Apparently, Lizzie had changed her mind about Mrs. Wu only looking after the girls. Given the delicious smell of the dumpling filling, I was pleased she’d done so.
“We’re making dumplings,” Lizzie said. “Mrs. Wu is teaching me her old family recipe.” Cooking didn’t require a shared language, I thought, as the two women seemed in perfect communication.
Li and Fai were at the table eating from steaming bowls of chicken soup. Despite their frayed clothing, the children’s hair was neatly combed and their faces clean. I sat next to them at the table. “I’m glad to meet you. Are you looking forward to school?”
“I’m not sure,” Li said. “I’ve never been, so I don’t know what to expect.”
“Do you like to learn and meet other kids?” I asked.
“I think so.”
“Then you’ll love school.” I turned to his little sister. “Did you know you’re going to have a friend to play with here at the house?”
She nodded as she scooped broth into her spoon.
“Lizzie told us,” Li said. “Grandmother was happy.”
Alexander joined us at the table, taking the chair next to me. “Li, please let me know if your grandmother needs anything.”
“Do we have to sleep on the beds?” Li asked quietly as he looked into his now-empty soup bowl.
“You don’t want to?” Alexander asked.
“At home we sleep on mats,” Li said.
“Whatever your grandmother tells you to do is fine with me,” Alexander said. “But I think you might like a bed.”
The kitchen door flew open and Flynn, Theo, and Cymbeline piled into the room, breathless and arguing over who was the fastest skater. They stopped in their tracks at the sight of Mrs. Wu.
“Good, you’re back,” Alexander said. “This is Mrs. Wu. She’s going to be working here with Lizzie. And these are Li and Fai.”
The Wu children looked at the Barnes siblings with fear in their eyes. Who wouldn’t? They were so robust and loud.
Cymbeline bounced over to get a better look. She pointed at Fai’s hair. “Shiny and smooth.”
Fai watched her but didn’t reply.
“I like it,” Cymbeline said as she ruffled her curls with her fingers to make it stand up. “My hair’s curly and I hate it.”
Fai let out a squeaky giggle. “No, pretty hair.”
Flynn sidled up next. “So you’re going to live here with us?” he asked Li.
“Yes.” Li pointed to door that led to the bedrooms. “In there.”
“Do you like baby pigs?” Cymbeline asked. “Because we have some.”
Li shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Flynn flopped into the chair next to Li. “Do you want to see them?” His voice was too loud, I thought. He’s going to frighten this poor child.
“I don’t know.” Li’s shoulders slumped as he looked around the table.
Theo had joined us by then. “We have a cow and chickens, too.” He spoke softly, as if he knew Flynn was a little too much.
“Cow,” Fai said with much enthusiasm. “I go.”
Poppy and Josephine came through the door next, carrying all the skates. “You all forgot your skates in the sleigh,” Josephine said before stopping to stare at Mrs. Wu.
Li looked at me as if to say, “How many are there?”
“There’s a lot of them,” I said to Li. “You’ll grow accustomed to their noise.”
Alexander introduced the Wus to Josephine and Poppy. They smiled politely at Mrs. Wu, then came to the table to inspect the children.
“Poppy and I will take the little ones out to the barn if it’s okay with Mrs. Wu.”
Li spoke to Mrs. Wu in Chinese. She responded back, nodding her head. “She says we can go look at the pigs.”
“Great. Daylight’s burning. We need to go now, or it’ll be too dark to see anything.” Flynn bounced up from the table.
“Put the skates in the mudroom,” I said. “All of you, Flynn, not just the girls.”
“Give them here,” Flynn said to his sister.
They all left in a mad rush, Flynn and Cymbeline fighting about who could sh
ow Li what first and Josephine holding tight to Fai’s hand.
“I think I’ll stay inside.” Theo slumped against the back of a chair.
“Do you feel all right, Theo?” I asked.
“My throat hurts,” he said.
I motioned for him to come closer and then felt his forehead. “He’s warm,” I said to Alexander.
Alexander went to him and placed his hand on the boy’s forehead. “She’s right. Let’s get you to bed, young man.”
I expected him to protest, but instead he went limp against his father, who lifted him in his arms.
“Lizzie, will you make him some tea with honey?” I asked.
“Yes, yes. I’ll bring it up,” Lizzie said.
As I followed Alexander up the stairs, I heard Mrs. Wu speaking in rapid Chinese.
Chapter 24
Alexander
* * *
I gazed at Quinn across a candlelit table. We’d started the meal with a few of Mrs. Wu’s sausage-stuffed dumplings and were now enjoying roast chicken. I’d had Jasper bring up a good bottle of wine from the cellar, which he’d decanted and poured before disappearing to check on Theo. He’d been sound asleep when I came down for dinner.
Quinn ate heartily and drank often from her glass. For such a sliver of a thing, the woman had quite an appetite.
She caught me staring at her. “What?”
“I enjoy your enthusiasm for a meal.”
She set down her fork. “It’s embarrassing how much I love Lizzie’s food. And those dumplings were the best thing I’ve ever eaten. Don’t tell Lizzie.”
“She would never forgive you,” I said.
“I’m feeling rather guilty about leaving her with all of the kids tonight, plus two more with the Wus,” she said. “And we took away her day off.”
“She offered,” I said. “Knowing the Wus would need her.” I’d promised to make it up to her next week with an extra day.
“Christmas is coming soon. We’ll kill one of the turkeys to eat for supper.”
“I hate thinking of the poor dears as supper,” Quinn said.
“They’re delicious dears. And anyway, that’s what they’re born for.”
“They live only to be slaughtered. How sad.”
I laughed. “It’s best to know one’s purpose.”
“I suppose.” She dipped her chin before tucking back into her piece of chicken.
When we’d finished, Jasper swept in to take our main course plates and replace them with a dessert of pound cake.
“What are your traditions at Christmas?” she asked after a scoop of cake.
“We attend church on Christmas Eve,” I said. “And then wake up in the morning to open gifts. In the afternoon Harley and Poppy join us for a meal. It’s the one day of the year I’ve convinced Jasper to allow the staff and the family to eat together. You?”
Tears moistened her eyes as she glanced toward the windows. “We also go to church and then home to a meal. Nothing like the feasts Lizzie makes, I can assure you. But a special day, nonetheless.”
“You miss them?” I asked, knowing the answer.
“Yes. Every day. Christmas will be strange without them.”
“I understand,” I said. Someday, when I’d gotten her to agree to be my wife, I would bring them here. All in good time, I told myself.
Chapter 25
Quinn
* * *
I woke with a start. Something was wrong. I bolted upright and swung my legs to the floor, the space between my ears thudding with my heartbeat. The sound of a child’s cry pierced the silence. Theo. I must have heard it in my sleep.
The room was mostly dark, without even an ember in the fireplace to help. However, a sliver of moonshine made it possible to see objects in the room. I reached with my fingers over to the bedside table to find the matchbox and pulled one out, then struck it against the rough side of the table. It lit, thankfully, and I used it on the lantern.
The clock read just after midnight. I ran out to the hallway, my nightgown swirling about my legs. Toes numb from the cold floors, I rushed to the boys’ room. Theo thrashed around on his bed, moaning. A quick glance toward Flynn told me that he was sound asleep.
I went to the side of Theo’s bed. His eyes sprang open, wide and scared. Damp curls clung to his forehead. Sweat soaked the collar of his pajamas.
I placed my cool hand on his forehead. His fever was much hotter than it had been that afternoon.
“Miss Quinn. I don’t feel well.”
“I know, sweet prince.” I ran out of the room and down the hallway to Alexander’s room, then pounded on the door. “It’s Theo. He’s worse.”
Seconds later, Alexander appeared, wearing pajamas.
“He’s burning up,” I said.
We rushed to Theo’s bed. His ragged breathing and glazed eyes turned me cold with fear. “Alexander,” I said, more of a croak than words. “What do we do?”
Alexander picked him up, his face pinched with worry. “Let’s take him into the library.” We rushed down the stairs. I almost slipped in my socks but grabbed the railing just in time. In the library, Alexander placed the little boy on the settee.
“Let’s give him more aspirin,” Alexander said. “There’s some in my desk.”
I rushed over to the table where the liquor was kept and poured a glass of water. Alexander dumped a teaspoon into the glass, and I stirred to dissolve the powder. He lifted the boy against his chest and pressed the glass to his mouth. “Please, Theo, swallow. This will make you better.”
Theo’s eyes remained closed, but he opened his mouth like a baby bird and drank.
“We need cold compresses,” I said. “I’ll get them from the kitchen.”
As I ran out of the library and down the stairs, it occurred to me for the first time that I was wearing my dressing gown. My toes were completely numb and my breasts, for what they were, completely bare under the thin flannel fabric. This thing was nearly as old as I, too short, with a frayed hem.
Lizzie came out from the door that led to the bedrooms at the same time I entered in the kitchen. She was dressed in a thick robe and wool socks. “Is it Theo?” she asked.
“Yes. He’s taken a turn for the worse. How did you know?”
“I heard your footsteps on the stairs and figured.” Lizzie pulled two white cloths from a stack by the sink and ran them under cold water. “Take these up. I’ll make tea.”
I flew up the stairs. By the time I returned, Alexander had Theo out of his soaked pajamas and covered with just a light blanket. Theo shook so violently that his teeth chattered.
“He’s always been prone to terrible chest colds,” Alexander said. “He was small when he was born.”
I knelt on the floor next to them, my embarrassment over my attire long since forgotten, and placed the cold compress on his forehead. Theo groaned and shuddered.
I continued with the cold compresses against his forehead and chest, hoping it would cool him. The room was so cold, we could see our breath.
“How did you know he was sick?” Alexander asked.
“I heard him cry out.” I pushed aside his damp hair, which stuck to his flaming pink cheeks.
Lizzie came up with a sweater that she insisted I put on. She also brought a pot of regular tea. “Thank you, Lizzie,” I said, and squeezed her hand.
“Whatever I can do to help,” she said. “Call for me and I’ll come.”
For an hour, Alexander and I alternated between the cold compresses and medicinal tea. The aspirin seemed to have no effect, so we gave him a little more. Another hour passed with no improvement.
“Should we send for the doctor?” I asked as I dabbed a clean, dry cloth over his sweaty skin.
“He won’t do anything,” Alexander said. “Other than look at him and declare him feverish. The man’s a quack.”
I didn’t argue. Most doctors were. Selling their wares and miracle cures to the hopeful and desperate. I’d spent hard-earned money just last yea
r for my mother’s breathing problems. None of the powders did any good.
I was growing desperate when Lizzie returned. This time she brought a strange-smelling tea with her. “It’s from Mrs. Wu,” Lizzie said. “She says it’s an ancient Chinese cure for fevers.”
“What is it?” I asked.
“No idea,” Lizzie said. “Some kind of herb mix that she added to hot water and stirred.”
“Should we try it?” I asked Alexander.
“Nothing else is working. Some herbs can’t hurt him.” Alexander helped to get Theo upright. He took the cup from Lizzie’s outstretched hand and lifted it to Theo’s mouth. “Take a few sips. It’ll soothe your throat.”
“Here, let me try,” I said, taking the cup.
Theo opened his mouth, obedient even while incoherent with a fever. I tilted the cup just enough that he was able to take a small amount. After the third sip, Theo shook his head and collapsed against his father’s arms. Alexander guided him gently back onto the pillow.
“She said he has to drink all of it,” Lizzie said. “Use this.” She handed me a spoon.
“You sit him up and I’ll feed it to him,” I said.
Spoonful by spoonful, I fed him the strange-smelling concoction. Finally, the cup was empty, and Theo collapsed back onto the pillow.
After a few minutes, he calmed somewhat and stopped thrashing about. He curled on his side, moaning softly in his sleep. We continued with the cold compresses. I winced over the way they made him shiver.
Finally, around three in the morning, his fever broke. We wrapped him in warm blankets and took him upstairs to his bed. Lizzie had changed his sheets while we were downstairs. Once Alexander had him settled, he sat on the edge of the bed and caressed the boy’s cheek. I sat on the other side of him, watching the man and his son, both of whom had captured my heart the very first moment I met them. If I’d only known what was waiting for me here. All this love.
Theo opened his eyes. “Hi, Papa.” He turned to me. “Miss Quinn? Why are you both here?”
“You had a high fever,” Alexander said. “But you’re better now.”
The Sugar Queen Page 21
