The Brynthwaite Boys - Season One - Part One

by Merry Farmer

  She gave Mrs. Wood a smile, then both of them turned to get on with things. Flossie crossed back to the stairs and called up, “Frank.”

  “Yes, ma’am?” Frank paused nearly at the top to glance over his shoulder.

  “Come talk to me later.”

  She didn’t frown or speak harshly, but Frank blushed and said, “Yes, ma’am.” At least he knew what he would be told off for.

  When Flossie turned to head to the desk, Samuel was staring at her with narrowed eyes.

  “I am most certain that I reserved a room with a lake view.” The gentleman was still at it.

  “Oh for heaven’s sake,” the older woman in line behind him huffed. “The brochure says that all rooms have an exquisite view. Can’t you just take what you’re given?”

  “I beg your pardon, ma’am,” the ruffled gentleman said.

  “What seems to be the trouble here?” Flossie approached the desk.

  “Nothing you need concern yourself with, Flossie,” Samuel said, addressing her like he was her better.

  Flossie responded with a bright smile, even if she did want to give Samuel a look as sour as his own. The gentleman grabbed at his chance to get someone else on his side.

  “I’ve been given the wrong room,” he said, even as he looked her up and down, then wrinkled his nose as if concluding she was just another lowly maid. “This upstart won’t fix things.”

  “Let’s just see what we can do for you, sir.” Flossie walked around the desk, took a look at the reservation book, then said, “Ah. We are all booked up for the weekend, sir, but perhaps we can do a little finagling for you.” To Samuel she said in a soft voice, “See, if you just switch the guest in room fourteen for—”

  “Excuse me,” Samuel snapped at her. “Who went and made you queen of the castle?”

  Flossie lost her smile. “I’m just saying that—”

  “Mr. Throckmorton, sir.” Samuel raised his voice and glanced around the guests waiting at the desk.

  Flossie turned to see Jason striding in through the open door from the garden. He cut a fine figure in his suit, the sunlight surrounding him. It only took one look at the line growing longer at the desk for him to lose the pleasant smile he wore.

  “What’s all this?” He strode across the lobby to the desk.

  “Just a bit of a misunderstanding about room assignments, sir,” Samuel said with a serpentine smile, turning his venom on Flossie. “Which for some reason, Flossie here seems to feel the need to take on herself.”

  Flossie held her breath as Jason met her eyes. Without blinking and without hesitation, he said, “Samuel is the concierge. Let him do his job and you do yours.”

  The sting of his dismissal brought a flush to Flossie’s cheeks. “Yes, sir,” she murmured, stepping away from the desk.

  She made it a few steps away before Jason stopped her with, “Flossie, I’ll see you in my office.”

  She froze, then turned and walked meekly back behind the desk. Samuel gave her a smug smirk, as though she was in trouble, as she passed him and crossed through the open door to stand in Jason’s office.

  “What seems to be the problem?” Jason asked, his voice calm and businesslike.

  “I booked a lake-view room, but I wasn’t given one,” the gentleman at the desk said, as if exhausted from explaining so many times.

  “I’m sorry, your name sir?” Jason asked him.

  “Kent. Percival Kent.”

  “Ah yes.” There was a pause. Through the doorway, Flossie watched Jason lean over the reservation book. “Samuel, give Mr. Kent room fourteen. We’ll move the guest due to occupy that room to room twenty.”

  Around the corner, out of Samuel’s sight, Flossie grinned in victory, especially when Samuel muttered, “Yes, sir.”

  “I do hope you will enjoy your stay here, sir,” Jason said to the guest, then turned to stride into the office. “As for you….” He shut the door.

  As soon as it was closed, he let out a breath.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, posture melting as he leaned toward her. “I had to be hard on you. It is Samuel’s job to handle the bookings.”

  “I know,” Flossie sighed. “And you weren’t any harder on me than was right.”

  “I just don’t want any of the staff to get it in their heads that I’m giving you favorable treatment,” he went on, worry clouding his brow.

  “Sir, you’ve already given me increased responsibility. Not a soul has questioned that.”

  “Because they know you are competent, and it makes sense to them that I would rely on you,” he finished her thought. “But I don’t want to let it go any further than that.”

  “No inviting questions,” she agreed.

  “Exactly.”

  She nodded, her smile returning. He met and held her eyes with sudden affection, breaking into a smile. The understanding between them was intact.

  “Now have the good sense to look chastised,” he said in a low voice that held far more heat than it should have.

  “I will, sir,” she replied, on the verge of breaking into giggles.

  She could tell by the look in his eye that those giggles would be contagious. He forced and frown and said, “Stop it.”

  She curtsied and assumed an air of being put in her place. “Yes, sir.”

  By the time Jason opened the door and shooed her out, anyone who had been in the lobby would have assumed that Flossie has just been given a dressing down. Samuel’s grin had grown even more smug, and he practically crowed as Flossie scurried out from around the desk and headed for the stairs.

  “Rev. Albright.”

  Jason’s cheery greeting stopped Flossie where she was between the stairs and the front door. Dora was on her way down, and the two of them turned to watch as Jason strode across the lobby to meet an unassuming older man who had just stepped over the threshold. Flossie had never seen Jason’s eyes light up quite like that. It dropped at least ten years from his age and sent her heart racing.

  “Rev. Albright, you made it.” He reached the man and took his hand, pumping it enthusiastically.

  “Young Jason,” Rev. Albright returned the greeting with a wide smile. “Look at you, dressed so fine and acting the gentleman.”

  “I’m not quite the rascal you pushed out the door of the Brynthwaite orphanage all those years ago, am I?” Jason stood tall and proud, then instantly dropped the pose for cordial informality.

  “Lor, who’s he?” Dora whispered in Flossie’s ear.

  Flossie shrugged, beyond curious.

  “I was surprised to get your invitation,” Rev. Albright went on. “A fussy old man like me.”

  “Nonsense,” Jason said. “There’s no one else I would rather have with me on this grand day, Rev. Albright. You were practically a father to me growing up.” He sent the briefest of looks to Flossie.

  Flossie got the message. Jason wanted her to know this man was important to her. Warmth spread through her chest.

  “Thank you, my boy, but I’m not a reverend anymore, you know,” Rev. Albright said, lowering his voice.

  Jason made a face and a noise as though dismissing the suggestion. “You’ll always be a man deserving the highest respect to me. I could never think of you as anything less. Come. Lawrence and Marshall should be here any moment. I’m certain they’d love to see you again.”

  Jason escorted not-Rev. Albright back outside. Flossie heard him continue their conversation, but couldn’t make out the words.

  “What do you suppose that means?” Dora asked as the two of them headed upstairs.

  “What what means?”

  “That he’s not a reverend anymore,” Dora said. “I thought that once you were a reverend, you were a reverend forever.”

  “I guess not.” Flossie shrugged.

  “And that about Mr. Throckmorton not wanting to think any less of him. What do you suppose happened?”

  Flossie laughed. “Why should anything have happened?”

  “I dunno. It see
ms odd to me,” Dora went on.

  They reached the top of the stairs. Flossie spotted Frank halfway down the hall, rushing back with empty hands.

  “I’ll tell you what seems odd to me,” Flossie said, raising her voice a bit. “Bellboys who flirt with the kitchen maids until both of them forget their duties.”

  Frank turned bright red. “I’m sorry, ma’am. It won’t happen again, ma’am.”

  “You’d better see that it doesn’t,” she scolded him, not unkindly. Frank tipped his hat as he rushed past her and downstairs, and Flossie turned to Dora. “Now we’d better finish checking the remaining rooms before all the guests arrive.”

  Matty

  Stepping through the gate into the front garden of The Dragon’s Head hotel was like stepping into a world that Matty had only ever dreamed about. Even without her memory, she was certain that nothing had ever looked so fine. The flagstone path leading from the arched gateway to the hotel’s door was lined with flowerbeds that were packed with bright purples and pinks, and accented by shades of yellow and gold. Rose bushes lined the walks closer to the hotel, curving around the building’s two wings to beckon guests into a world that was like something from a fairy story. A tall, white gazebo sat in the center of the back garden, a group of musicians playing cheerful music to entertain the gathering guests.

  “I made that trellis over there.” Lawrence pointed to a gorgeous, high trellis, climbing with roses. There were roses and leaves worked into the design, so that Matty wasn’t sure where nature ended and art began. But that was Lawrence’s way. “Jason told me to make something that would inspire his guests to consider having a marriage ceremony at the hotel.”

  “How romantic,” she sighed.

  Lawrence laughed. “Far from it. He knows just how much money there is to be made by hosting a full wedding party. Jason is the shrewdest businessman I know.” He paused, steering her around an older couple who stood in the middle of the path, staring up at the slope of the hill to the upper garden, where guests could look out over the hotel to take in a view of the lake. “I suppose Jason had to be as shrewd as they come to start out with nothing and end up with so much.”

  “I never thought of it like that,” Matty said. The statement was next door to ridiculous. She wasn’t sure she had ever thought of much before.

  They continued through the back garden, climbing the stairs to the observation deck.

  “I made those as well,” Lawrence said, pointing to short poles with hooks on top through which strands of electric lights were woven. There were electric lights all throughout the garden, and once the sun had gone down, they would get to see the spectacle of a lights show.

  From the wide, flat stand of land carved into the hill about a story above the roof of the hotel, the view was spectacular. At that height, Matty looked down not only into the entirety of the hotel garden, but into the town as well. And directly in front of the hotel was a view of the lake that was so breathtaking in its beauty that she pressed a hand to her chest. The late afternoon sun sparkled off of the lake’s still water. Beyond that, on the other side, hills rose up to a blue sky.

  “What a spectacular view,” one of the other guests voiced the thoughts Matty was having.

  The woman was young and regal, and dressed in a gown of lace over some soft violet fabric. Her hair was done up in the latest fashion. Matty found herself patting her own hair, wondering if it was up to scratch. She had it done up in a simple style with just a ribbon for ornament. Her dress, though newly made from the fabric Lawrence had bought her, was simple as well. Next to the majority of the other guests, she looked as though she might have escaped from the kitchen rather than having walked through the front door with an invitation.

  “What’s that look for?” Lawrence asked, taking her hand and drawing it into his arm. He strolled along the edge of the upper garden with her to one of the side paths that circled down around the edge of the property to the lower garden.

  “Nothing,” Matty sighed. “I’m just admiring all of the fine people who have come out tonight along with the fine view.”

  Lawrence chuckled. “Coming up short?”

  She didn’t answer out of bashfulness. She had no right to complain about her clothes or her hair or anything at all considering the state she’d been in two weeks ago. Besides, Lawrence was dressed just as simply. His clothes were clean, but they were just trousers and a shirt with a vest. He even had his sleeves rolled up, as if going on a stroll in the woods instead of to the event of the summer. He stood out amongst the crowd of men buttoned tight in suits and squeezed into shiny shoes as the most handsome and relaxed man in attendance.

  Matty’s cheeks burned at the thought of Lawrence as handsome. Facts were facts, but she couldn’t help but feel a warm stirring in her gut, knowing that she was on his arm. He’d been unfailingly kind to her these last two weeks. She’d slept in his bed, slept beside him, and not once had he crossed any lines. Even though she kept hoping….

  “I think I see Mary Pycroft,” Matty said, her voice an uncomfortable squeak. She cleared her throat.

  “Yes, that’s them,” Lawrence said.

  “Mary was looking forward to the party tonight. All of the girls were,” she went on. She’d spent a few afternoons with the Pycroft girls in the last week, much to the gratitude of Dr. Pycroft who had used it as an excuse to send the aunt from London packing. Matty suspected that wasn’t the last they would see of that aunt, though.

  “Do you want to go down and meet them?” Lawrence asked.

  “Yes, please.”

  Unlike the stairs that led straight up from the hotel’s back garden and the gazebo, the side path—and it’s twin on the hotel’s opposite side—arched gradually around, carved into the hillside and planted with flowers, shrubs, and trees to mimic wilderness. It was like a grand, double stairway in some estate’s front hall, only blended so perfectly with nature that it seemed as though God Himself had designed it. Lawrence seemed in no hurry to make the descent, even though Dr. Pycroft had caught his eye and nodded to him. Matty didn’t mind his leisure. She rather liked the feeling of her arm in his.

  The side path let out through a small arbor, under branches of fruit trees that had been planted to create a short tunnel effect. From there, a flagstone path led back toward the hotel’s front door. Lawrence and Matty were no more than a few feet along the path when Mr. Throckmorton came striding toward them with an older gentleman by his side.

  “Rev. Albright,” Lawrence exclaimed before Mr. Throckmorton drew near enough to introduce the man. Lawrence’s whole face broke into a mask of joy. He broke away from Matty to meet him. “This is a surprise.”

  “Lawrence,” the older man, Rev. Albright, said. He picked up his pace to grasp Lawrence’s hand. “It’s good to see you, looking as much like the wild thing that you are as I expected.”

  Rather than just taking the man’s hand, Lawrence pulled him into an embrace. Matty blinked at the overflow of affection and glanced around. Indeed, a few people were watching the meeting with curiosity.

  Lawrence let go of Rev. Albright and turned to Mr. Throckmorton. “You didn’t tell me you’d invited Rev. Albright.”

  “I couldn’t reveal all my surprises now, could I?” Mr. Throckmorton replied with a conspiratorial wink. Lawrence’s smile widened at the wink and he paused to study his friend.

  “I should remind both of you that it’s not Reverend anymore,” Rev. Albright smiled. “Just Mr. Albright now.”

  “And a crying shame that is too,” Lawrence said with a sudden fit of frustration.

  Rev.—Mr. Albright shrugged. “Who am I to question the hand of fate? My secrets were all uncovered, before God and man. I have none now, and that in itself is a relief.”

  “But still,” Lawrence went on, frustration clear in his expression. “To be deprived of your livelihood for such a petty and insignificant reason.”

  “We shouldn’t talk of this,” Mr. Throckmorton said with a somber expression,
lowering his voice.

  “I agree,” Mr. Albright followed. “This is a night for celebration, not remorse. And I have not been left without a livelihood.”

  “No?” Lawrence asked.

  “No. I own a small shop up Grasmere way, a garden shop, actually. I sell—”

  You’re worth nothing, Mathilda Wright. You’re just a jumped up shop girl who can’t keep her tongue where it belongs. Well, young missy, I’ll show you how a tongue should be used. And if you’re not grateful for it, I’ll cut that tongue right out of your head. What’s this? I’ll have no back-talking from you, you little wench, or your mother. You’re a sorry pair, the both of you. Filth that don’t deserve to be treated any better than—

  “Matty? Matty?”

  With a gasp, Matty snapped out of her memory. She wasn’t sure how long it had had her in its clutches. In the space of what could have been a few seconds or an hour, she’d gone cold. Her heart trembled in her chest, and her stomach flopped over itself, but along with that, the long-gone ache of blows and bruises flared. Beside that, the faint remembrance of heat, desperation, and a scream that faded away, fell back into the mist with the rest of her memory.

  “Matty, love, are you all right?”

  She didn’t realize that Lawrence had closed his arm around her until she caught the strange look of one of the hotel’s other guests.

  “Oh dear,” she breathed, righting herself and pushing away from Lawrence. As comforting as his arms were, it wasn’t seemly for him to hold her at such a public gathering. “I felt faint for a moment there.”

  An awkward pause followed. Mr. Albright’s brow was furrowed as he glanced from Matty to Lawrence to Jason.

  “Forgive me, Rev. Albright, this is Matty, a friend who has been staying with me these last few weeks. “Matty, this is Rev. Albright. He was one of the staff at Brynthwaite Municipal Orphanage when Jason, Marshall, and I were growing up there. Unlike the other staff members, he truly cared about us.”