Love's First Flames (Banished Saga, 0.5)

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Love's First Flames (Banished Saga, 0.5) Page 5

by Ramona Flightner


  He silently made his way to the basement and his room, entering unseen by any of the help. “We won’t have any of the fancy cider, but I did get us some of the food,” Gabriel said, holding high the two napkins in triumph.

  Jeremy and Richard gave two small hoots of joy as they scooted over toward the desk where Gabriel placed his loot. “Should we eat it all now, Gabe, or save some for later?” Rich asked.

  Gabriel squinted as he thought over his answer. “Let’s eat it all now, and then I’ll put the napkins in the laundry. That way, if Aunt comes, she won’t find anything here.”

  Jeremy and Richard reached for pieces of ham and chicken, gorging themselves. Gabriel waited until they slowed down, eating the scraps that were left over. They ate the bread at a more moderate pace. Richard poked his head out toward the kitchen and waved at Gabriel upon seeing it empty. Gabriel walked toward the laundry room, thrusting the napkins at the base of the laundry pile.

  When he returned to the room, Richard had a glass and a pitcher of water in the room. “What about presents, Gabe?” Jeremy asked as he lay on his side on his bed.

  “There won’t be any this year, Jer,” Gabe said. “But I know when Uncle Aidan arrives, he’ll bring gifts that will make even Henry and Nicholas jealous.”

  “When do you think he’ll arrive?” Jeremy asked.

  “I don’t know. I bet the bad weather affected his ship, and he wasn’t able to return the way he thought he would. But he’ll return to us. I’m certain. He won’t abandon us here to live with Aunt.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Boston, August 1895

  RICHARD SAW THE YOUNG WOMAN with curly black hair kick at the storefront door, a low moan of distress escaping her lips before she clamped her mouth shut. She raised her hands, cupping one to either side of her face to better peer into the darkened interior of the bakery.

  “Excuse me, miss,” Richard McLeod said with a gentle hesitance in his voice. “The sign says they are closed for remodel.” He leaned over her shoulder, his tall lanky frame boxing her in place for a moment. Ebony hair fell over one eye and curled at his nape, longer than the current style. His work clothes were clean, but rough, with a patch on one thigh of his black pants and patches at the elbows of his steel-gray jacket.

  She met his gaze with startled blue eyes hidden behind a pair of wire-framed glasses.

  Richard raised one of his hands, his long narrow fingers tracing the words behind the pane of glass. “The sign? It says why they’re closed.”

  The young woman moved away from him, placing more than an arm’s length of distance between them. “I can read the sign.” She glanced away down the street toward the approaching street sweeper. “I need pastries.” She grimaced as Richard raised an eyebrow at the plaintive tone to her voice.

  “I know another place, nearly as good. It’s not far from here.” He pointed down the street, holding out his elbow for her.

  “That’s very kind of you. I thank you, Mr. . . .”

  “McLeod. Richard McLeod. I must find a bakery too or never return to my aunt’s house.”

  The woman’s smile dimmed as she realized he was serious.

  “My aunt is expecting very important people to tea, and she must not be disappointed.”

  “Mrs. Kruger also needs her cakes for tea,” the young woman said as she placed her gloved hand in his elbow and walked at a moderated pace beside him. “She believes if I am one of the first to arrive as the bakery opens that I will receive the best the baker has to offer.”

  “For a special occasion?”

  “No, for herself. No one ever visits her.”

  “Are you her niece?”

  The young woman looked away, a flush blooming on her pale cheeks, but not before he saw a wistfulness enter her eyes. “No, I’m her maid.”

  Richard paused for a moment to study her clothes. She wore a plain navy skirt and pale blue shirtwaist covered by a light tan coat. “I see.” He smiled, flashing a dimple in his left cheek. “And do you, maid to the elusive Mrs. Kruger, have a name?”

  “Oh, of course. Florence. Florence Butler.”

  “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Miss Butler, on this fine morning. And here we are.”

  Florence glanced up at a shop window filled with an assortment of pastries. She sighed with delight at the cakes and cookies in the display window. “This fruitcake will do nicely. It is Mrs. Kruger’s favorite.”

  After she and Richard purchased their pastries, they departed the store together. Richard watched her with open fascination as she tucked black curls behind one ear. “I hope we meet again, Miss Butler.”

  “As do I, Mr. McLeod.” She gave him a faint smile before turning away.

  Richard walked toward his aunt’s house but, after half a block, turned to race after Florence. “Miss Butler,” he called as he approached her.

  She turned, a half smile playing about her lips. “Yes?”

  He returned her smile, gasping slightly after his mad dash, and stood tall as he met her amused gaze. “Meet me tomorrow? At the sweet shop?”

  Florence inhaled sharply, and Richard saw trepidation and fear play across her face before determination overrode all other emotions. “Yes. Yes, I will.”

  He beamed at her. “Good, see you tomorrow.” He tipped his hat to her as though she were a fine lady, and she blushed before she turned away. He watched her until she disappeared from view, waving the one time she looked over her shoulder at him. He spun to return to his aunt’s house, whistling as he walked.

  ***

  “WHAT’S THE MATTER with you, Rich?”

  “Nothing, Gabe.” He glared at his eldest brother as he paused between mouthfuls while gobbling down his breakfast. “I’d eat while you have the chance.”

  Gabriel grunted and shoveled food into his mouth. Richard had almost finished eating, and Gabriel’s plate was a third full when their aunt burst into the basement kitchen.

  “What is the meaning of this?” She snatched away their plates from in front of them, moved into the side room and dumped them into the sink. Gabriel had a forkful of food in his hand, which he ate before setting the fork on top of his napkin.

  “Aunt, always a pleasure to see you at breakfast,” Gabriel said. His azure blue eyes flashed irritation and resentment.

  “Why are you eating so late? Richard, you should have returned hours ago. Instead, you gallivant about the city, failing to purchase the cakes necessary for my prodigious guests. And then you decide to eat me out of house and home. It is not to be borne!

  “And you!” She spun to face Gabriel. “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you with that awful man for your apprenticeship? Unless he’s found you to be as useless a dunce as I’ve always known you to be.”

  “Aunt . . .” Richard began.

  “And why are you hungry? I saw the bill for the second-rate bakery you decided to visit today. Did you gorge yourself on sweets while there and think to swindle me? I will not have my charity abused in such a way, Richard McLeod.” She swatted him on the head with a metal spatula, and he yelped in discomfort.

  “Aunt, the other bakery was closed.”

  “A likely story. One you and your horrid brother most likely fabricated in an attempt to humiliate me in front of my esteemed guests. It will not work, I tell you. I have already sent someone else, someone who is not an incompetent McLeod with no sense, to purchase the necessary pastries. I only hope they are not venturing forth too late in the day to obtain the high-quality confections my guests have come to expect when visiting such a fine home as mine.

  “As for the disgusting pastries you brought home, I’ve discarded them. A waste of good money. What could you have been thinking, Richard, to believe I would ever find those acceptable?”

  “Aunt,” Gabriel interrupted.

  “Have I given you leave to speak to me? I have no desire to listen to malicious lies coming forth from your lips. Why your parents ever saw fit to have you is beyond me. Why would anyone want you as the
ir children?” She glared at both Richard and Gabriel. “And I, the greater fool for taking those such as you in. I should have placed you in that orphanage, hoping you’d be sent on one of those trains or to sea to die as your uncle did.” She sniffed as she glowered at her nephews. “Good riddance.”

  “I’m sorry I disappointed you, Aunt,” Richard said in an attempt to appease her.

  “You always disappoint me. You were born a disappointment.”

  “That’s not true, and you know it. Our parents loved us and were proud of us,” Gabriel snapped.

  “Are you calling me a liar, Gabriel McLeod? Your own dear aunt, who took you crying, penniless orphans off the street, saved you from the horrors of an orphanage? A liar? I’d hate to think you were that uncharitable. But then I’d expect nothing less from children spawned from one such as your father.”

  “He was an admirable man, devoted to family,” Gabriel said as he scooted his chair back from the table. “I don’t have to listen to this.”

  “You leave before I’ve excused you, and you won’t be welcomed back into my home and my good graces.” She pinned him with her most severe glare. “You will learn to respect me, Gabriel.”

  “Respect is earned, Aunt, and you’ve done nothing to earn it.” Gabriel clenched his fists at his side as he and his aunt had their daily glaring match.

  “You know nothing about who is deserving of respect, you cretin.” She reached over to hit him on the head with the spatula, but he grabbed it as she lowered it toward him.

  He shook his head side to side once with a forbidding glare before wrenching the spatula from her grasp. “I’m not a child to be treated so, Aunt. I’d learn that lesson if I were you.”

  “And I hope you learn that my patience with your presence in my home is wearing thin.”

  Gabriel glanced for a moment at Richard before tilting his head toward the kitchen door. Richard spoke after a few second’s hesitation. “Aunt, if we may be excused so that our presence does not ruin your exalted event this afternoon?”

  “Of course. Leave this instance. And I do not want you to return until at least six o’clock! I wouldn’t want anyone of importance to see relatives such as you.” She held her hands on her hips as they turned to leave. “Ensure that your horrid brother Jeremy is aware to remain away too. I don’t want any of you here with the possibility of causing me any further disgrace.”

  Richard and Gabriel walked down the darkened hallway and up the back steps into the fresh morning air. “Do you have a lot of work to complete?” Richard asked Gabriel as they walked quickly, their long legs forming great strides. From behind, they could have been mistaken for twins, each young man reaching over six feet in height with broad shoulders. Their black hair blew in the soft breeze, and, after a few blocks, they boarded a trolley and sat, continuing their conversation in a low whisper.

  “Yes. I’ve many commissions now that I’m a Master.” He came closer to Richard and lowered his voice further. “Not that I want Aunt to know that I’m anything other than an apprentice. We don’t have the means to leave yet, and I worry she’d throw me out were she to discover I had a trade.” He watched Richard with concern. “I’m surprised you aren’t already at the smithy. I’d hoped you’d take your apprenticeship more seriously after it took so long to find work.”

  “I’m only going to be a few minutes late, Gabe. And the first bakery really was closed.”

  “That’s not what’s got you in a fine mood today. You didn’t even join me in my fight with Aunt. For once, I was the one about to come to blows with her rather than the one calming you down. What’s going on, Rich?” Gabriel turned to stare at him with avid curiosity, concern hidden in his gaze.

  “Nothing, Gabe. It’s just a fine day, and I realized that, if things go well with my apprenticeship, we might be able to move out soon.”

  Gabriel sighed with pleasure. “Wouldn’t that be wonderful? Jeremy’s about done with school. And you and Henry can’t seem to stop whaling on each other. I can’t think of too many more excuses for your ripped clothes to give to Aunt.”

  “He’s a snotty little . . .”

  “I know, Rich. But if you keep fighting him, we’ll all be thrown out, and we won’t have enough to live on.”

  “You’re a Master of your craft, Gabe.”

  “I know, but that doesn’t mean I make enough for us to live on. Not yet. And I couldn’t bear it if . . .” Gabriel broke off, unable to voice his worst fears.

  “We won’t be separated. I know you won’t allow that to happen. You’ve done everything you can to ensure it. I don’t know how you’ve managed not to kill her in all the time we’ve been in her house.”

  “She complains about us being such burdens to her, but I think she enjoys the free labor we provide. And the fact she can extoll her virtues to her exalted friends.” He mimicked his aunt’s tone and shook his head in disgust.

  “Listen to you. You’ve been reading your fancy library books again,” Richard teased with an elbow to Gabriel’s side. “I finish at six. I’ll come by the workshop.”

  “Yeah, that sounds good. Jer always stops by anyway. He’d rather be there with me than at Aunt’s place.” He nodded to Richard as he departed a few stops ahead of Gabriel’s. Gabriel watched Richard maneuver his way around a woman with a baby carriage, his smile brighter than usual, and frowned again with concern.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “HELLO, MISS BUTLER,” Richard said as he matched his longer lope to her shorter stride. He met her at the corner he’d seen her disappear around the previous day. “How are you this fine morning?”

  She smiled at him, a hint of a blush warming her cheeks. She wore the same clothes, although it appeared she had attempted to tame her wild curls into a stylish bun. “Well, sir, I thank you.”

  “Where are we off to? The bakery?”

  “Yes. Mrs. Kruger thought the cake I brought home yesterday was particularly delicious and wanted to thank the young man who helped me find a new bakery. If you are ever free to call on her, she’d be delighted to meet you.”

  Richard held out his elbow, and she slipped her arm through it. They walked at a leisurely pace, each step becoming a bit slower so as to prolong their time until they reached the bakery. “Where does Mrs. Kruger live? I’d like to know where I should call.”

  “In Chester Square in the South End.” Florence fought a smile, biting her lip.

  “What’s it like? Living there with her?”

  “She’s a nice woman. She treats all of us who live with her well and wants us to have the chance to make more of our lives than that of a life in service.” Florence paused as they approached the bakery and attempted to pull her hand from Richard’s arm.

  He used his other hand to hold hers in place. “She sounds like a nice woman. I’m glad you ended up with her rather than with someone like my aunt.”

  Florence’s eyes clouded as he mentioned his aunt. She freed her arm from his and preceded him into the bakery. “I can’t imagine she’s that bad. At least you have family.”

  “If you want to call her that,” Richard said. Any further questions he had were forestalled by Florence turning to the baker and ordering fruitcake. He watched as she charmed the baker’s assistant with her smile.

  “Are you purchasing anything today?” Florence asked.

  “No, nothing for me,” Richard said. He led her out of the bakery and continued the short walk toward the corner she turned down to return to Chester Square. “What did you mean, at least I have family?”

  “You’re not alone in this world, and that’s a blessing,” Florence said.

  “With or without my aunt, I’m not alone, Miss Butler. I’ve my brothers. They’re all the family I need.”

  Florence turned toward the South End. “Then you are even more fortunate that I realized. Good day, Mr. McLeod.”

  ***

  “WHERE DO YOU GO in the morning, McLeod?” Henry demanded as Richard and his brothers returned home that night
.

  “Henry, if you have any sense, you’d stay out of my way until I’ve bathed. Or else you’ll . . .”

  “Or else, what, you worthless pile of horse manure?” Henry taunted, throwing a punch and missing as Richard ducked. “You think you can tell me what to do in my own home? I ask the questions, not you.”

  Richard feinted to the right and left a few times as Henry threw wild punches, and then Richard leaped forward, tackling his cousin in a full-body blow that left Henry winded and Richard on top, pummeling him with his fists. “I was going to say, you idiot, whose mother wasted a fortune on education trying to instill some sort of knowledge in a brain with less intelligence than that of a warthog, that I was covered in soot, and you’d do better to let me pass and wash.” He grunted as one of Henry’s knees hit his thigh. Richard rose with lithe grace, no worse for the wear after his tumble with Henry.

  Henry, on the other hand, had black splotches of soot on his previously pristine pants, shirt and coat, and sported the beginnings of a black eye. “My mother will hear of this!” Henry cried as he clutched at his eye.

  “Yes, acting just like a grown man. Running to Mummy to have her kiss it better and fight your fights. You gutless wonder,” Richard taunted.

  “Rich,” Gabriel warned but stayed out of the fray as Henry launched himself at Richard. Richard sidestepped his cousin’s stumbling attack, and Henry slammed into the wooden shed. His howl of pain at the sound of a crack as his hand connected to the wood caused all three McLeod brothers to cringe.

  “Well, that’s sure to get Aunt’s attention,” Jeremy said with a shake of his head. “Weren’t we just saying how we didn’t want her to notice us for a while? I’d wash up fast before she takes that away from you, along with dinner.”

 

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