Goblins and Snowflakes
Page 6
But then I remembered what I had seen from my room that night. Had it really been them standing outside the gate at the end of the lane? Even if it was, surely they couldn’t have seen me from the road. Or had they? But how?
One answer presented itself.
Magic.
That wasn’t possible.
No, this was just a coincidence.
But I didn’t believe in coincidence.
Serendipity, then.
That had a better ring to it.
It was just a matter of good luck, that was all. Nothing to fear. It was just…good luck.
But something about the exchange didn’t feel lucky.
Scowling, I tried to set the conundrum aside. First, I stopped by the bakery. Thomas was out on deliveries, but his father took my order and arranged for plum pudding to be delivered to both Annabeth and to Strawberry Hill.
“Tell your deliveryman to expect an earful at the castle,” I told the baker. “Missus Ronald will not be pleased. Just tell them it was a request from Miss Rossetti.”
“Indeed, Miss Rossetti. Thank you.”
“And watch for merchants in the woods between here and Strawberry Hill. They’re such a nuisance.”
“Merchants?”
“A wandering band.”
“Oh. I hadn’t heard of any trouble on the road. Thank you, Miss Rossetti.”
“Of course,” I said then headed back outside. I crossed the square to the tailor’s shop. There, I placed an order for jackets for both of Annabeth’s boys. I didn’t know their exact sizes, but I made my best guess. When I was done, I stopped by the seamstress where I ordered cloaks for mother and daughter. As I had done at the bakery and the tailor’s shop, I arranged for all the goods to be delivered to Annabeth directly. I hoped that she would be able to smuggle them into the house on behalf of Father Christmas without the children noticing.
When I was done shopping, I returned to Laura and Lizzie’s shop. The place was so full that both sisters were busy at the counter. I wasn’t sure they’d even noticed me come in. I headed back to the workshop. Setting the box of hagstones aside, I eyed over Laura’s work. She had her orders set out but hadn’t started work on the next batch just yet. I eyed the table, making sense of what she had set aside, then read over her orders.
“Okay, one teddy bear at a time,” I whispered then got to work.
An hour had passed before Laura appeared beside me.
“Scarlette, when did you get here?”
“Oh, a while ago. These are done,” I told her, motioning to the bears. “I was just about to work on this boy,” I said, picking up a baby doll that still needed his face painted.
Laura chuckled. “I’ve got him. Busy, busy, busy. It’s a madhouse here.”
I slid out of Laura’s seat then went to the end of the workbench where my gnomes waited.
“The village is all astir,” I said. “I could barely push through at the bakery.”
“No doubt! Oh, I’ll have to send Lizzie to get some bread before we close. I say, I scarcely remembered to eat yesterday.”
“Laura! Do you need anything now? Can I bring you something?”
“Oh no, dear. I’m fine. Just fine. So, what do you have there?” she asked as I opened the lid on the box containing the stones.
“Hagstones.”
“Hagstones?” she replied, surprise in her voice.
“Master Boatswain said my gnomes needed a little magic, a little heart. Hagstones, he said, have magic at their very core.”
Laura laughed. “My old mum told me that you could look through a hagstone to read elvish.”
“Elvish?”
Laura laughed. “My mum had quite the imagination. Full of fairy stories, that one.”
“And are her daughters any less imaginative?”
“No,” Laura replied with a light chuckle. Settling in, she smiled at the baby doll. “Now, let’s give you a little sparkle.”
I headed to the other end of the workbench. I pulled out a spare square of red cloth and cut little hearts from the fabric. Lifting one gnome at a time, I cut a tiny slit in their chests. Removing a little stuffing, I slipped the hagstones into the gnomes. When I was done, I stitched their chests closed then sewed the red hearts over the top. The work took some time, but when I was done, I felt a great sense of relief. All this time, the gnomes had felt unfinished. Now…well, now they had hearts. I looked at their little glass eyes. Something about them seemed entirely different. They seemed more…alive. Maybe Master Boatswain was right. Magic.
“Come close to me,” I whispered, setting the gnomes on the table in front of me. “Are you really alive now? No answer? I didn’t know gnomish men were the peevish type. Very well. Don’t tell me. But if you are alive, I have a job for you. Tonight, finish all of Laura and Lizzie’s work and tidy up the shop.”
Taking out the windup key, I set the clockwork gnome in motion. How jolly the little band of gnomes looked in the Christmas finery with their little red hearts.
“She’s back here, Master Boatswain,” I heard Lizzie say, a gleeful lilt in her voice. “Just here.”
I froze for a moment then turned to look. Archie was standing at the entrance to the workshop, his top hat in his hand. He was so tall that he had to bend a little not to hit his head on the ceiling.
“Archie?”
“When I realized you’d gone, I knew where to look. And I wanted to meet the doll-making sisters. Miss Rossetti speaks very highly of you both,” Archie told Laura and Lizzie.
Lizzie was smiling happily at the tall man, a joyous expression on her face.
Laura stared at Archie over her spectacles. She looked dumbfounded.
“Laura, this is Master Archibald Boatswain III,” I said.
Laura swallowed hard then rose. “Pleased to meet you, sir.”
“My grandfather wanted to come, but it was too much of a walk. Is this the pianist?” Archibald asked, eyeing the doll at the end of the table. “May I see it?” he asked Laura and Lizzie.
“Of course. It’s all Scarlette’s work,” Laura said. “All born of her hands.”
I motioned for Archie to follow me. I set the doll on her seat, readied the music box, then turned the windup key. At once, the pianist began to perform. When she tapped her hand on the keyboard, she tripped the switch for the music box hidden inside the piano. Her hands moving, it appeared as if she were genuinely playing.
“I’ve been thinking of how her movements could be timed to press the keys in truth,” I said. “It would take precise movements, but I think it would be possible.”
Archie stared at the doll, nodding as he thought. “Very well done, Miss Rossetti. Marvelous.”
“Thank you,” I said, feeling a blush creep up on my cheeks.
“I…I was wondering. It’s very nearly time for afternoon tea. Are you planning to return to Strawberry Hill? I thought I could walk with you. That is unless you have more work to do here.”
“Is it?” I asked. “I’d swear there is a time disturbance in this shop. How the hours escape me here. I should go back now. Have the others missed me?”
Archie shook his head. “They’ve been in conference all morning.”
“Indeed? Laura, Lizzie, do you need anything else? Can I be of more help?”
“Oh no, dear. Oh no. Please go on ahead,” Lizzie said, still smiling wistfully at Archie.
“We shouldn’t have kept you this long. Miss Rossetti is such a helpful girl, Master Boatswain. And quite ingenious,” Laura added.
I cast a quick glance at her, not missing her chance to advertise me a bit.
“So I see. Well, there is a wonderland of material to work with here. I can hardly blame her,” Archie said, motioning around the workshop.
The sisters smiled widely.
“I’ll get my things,” I told Archie.
He nodded to me then turned to Lizzie. “Was that a carousel in the front window? May I see it?”
“Oh, yes. Of course. If you p
lease,” she said then motioned for him to follow her back to the front of the shop.
After he left, Laura came and stood beside me. “What a gentleman. He came to admire your work. He looked like he was very impressed with the doll.”
“I hope so.”
Laura laughed. “Well done, Scarlette. A very bright prospect, my dear. Very bright. And handsome at that,” she added with a chuckle.
“Were you ever married, Miss Laura?” I asked her in a whisper, eyeing Archie who was touring around the shop with Lizzie.
“Lizzie and I were both married. We married twin brothers,” she said with a laugh.
“Did you?”
“And had many happy years. Sadly, they died within a year of one another. Influenza. I miss him still. Love of my life. Now it’s just Lizzie and me.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Life is precious and fleeting,” she said with a sigh.
I patted her gently on the shoulder then picked up my outdoor wraps. I slipped on my cape, fastening it at the neck. As I pulled it on, I grinned at the little gnomes. “Now, remember my request,” I said, tapping the clockwork gnome playfully on the nose. “And I’ll see you all tomorrow.”
“My father will be here soon. I’ll try to come in the morning to wish you Happy Christmas Eve, at least,” I told Laura.
“Don’t worry about us, my dear. Just be with your family,” Laura said.
“Dear Laura, you are like family after all these months.”
Laura patted my cheek.
I joined Archie who was slipping a wrapped package into his pocket.
“Shopping?” I asked him.
He nodded, pointing to one of the wind-up ducks on the shelf. It was a simple toy. One merely wound up the mechanism inside and the duck would move about the room on the rollers underneath. “A Christmas gift for Grandfather. He’ll love it.”
I chuckled. Master Archibald Boatswain was the greatest mind, the greatest tinker, the world had ever seen. And his grandson had bought him a wind-up duck for Christmas.
“Goodbye, Lizzie. Goodbye, Laura,” I called, then Archie and I headed back outside. He offered his arm to me, and we made our way back to Strawberry Hill.
“Will you return to London when you father comes?” Archie asked.
I nodded. “At least for a time.”
“Grandfather and I will also be in London for the winter. There are some happenings with London Tinkers Society, and Grandfather wants to take part. Are you a member?”
“Of the London Tinker’s Society? Goodness, no. My father travels with the Artisans Guild. I haven’t spent much time with the tinkers.”
“You should join. I… I could escort you to the meetings.”
“But I’m no tinker.”
Archie laughed. “Scarlette, your mind comes by it naturally. I don’t think you realize what you’ve done. Imagine what you could tinker with a little training.”
“No. Not me. I’m not really adept in any one thing. I like art, mechanics, history, philosophy, folklore. I’m eclectic.”
“Hmm,” Archie considered. “A diverse mind is an excellent thing.”
I realized then that Archie was concocting a way to meet with me in London, and I had very foolishly dissuaded him.
“But you’re right. I should join. I’ll ask father. As you said, who knows what I could invent. Automaton street sweepers, perhaps.”
Archie chuckled. “Now you have it!”
We entered the forest. At once, my eyes went toward the merchant camp. Much to my surprise, it was gone. And not only that, but Mistress Quickly was tromping through the woods from the direction where the tents had once been.
“Master Boatswain, Miss Rossetti,” she called.
I couldn’t help but notice her slip her dagger back into her belt.
“Mistress Quickly,” Archie said. He removed his top hat and tipped it toward her.
“I was tracking down your merchants, Miss Rossetti,” Mistress Quickly said.
“Their tents used to be just there,” I said, pointing. “They seem to be gone now.”
“Seem,” Mistress Quickly said, gazing as she looked toward the former site of the camp.
“Any sign of them?” Archie asked.
Mistress Quickly frowned. “Hard to say. I’m headed into town for a look around. Miss Rossetti, please let me know if you see them again.”
“I will.”
At that, Mistress Quickly nodded then headed off in the direction of town.
“I know what I want. I want her job,” I said. “Isn’t she some sort of constable?”
“Private security is the best way to put it. Your mind is curious about everything, Scarlette.”
“Isn’t yours?”
He laughed. “Perhaps, but my range is limited.”
“Limited to genius.”
He grinned. “I’m glad you think so.”
I smiled up at him, gazing into his light green eyes. “I do.”
To my surprise, a flash of red colored his cheeks. “Thank you.”
We crossed the lawn, returning to Strawberry Hill once more. When we entered the house, we found everything very still, very quiet.
“They are in the library,” Mister Edwards said. “Closed door. No servants,” he added, giving me a perplexed look.
Not understanding myself, I shook my head.
“Your grandfather inquired about you, Master Boatswain,” Mister Edwards told Archie.
“Ah, that means I’m late,” Archie said.
“Sorry,” I said, then motioned to him that we should go.
Hurrying down the hall, we quickly found ourselves at the library. Archibald opened the door, and the pair of us slipped inside.
“Master Montgomery is right. We must expand our council and form an active force to patrol the realm, London in particular. Building on the established tradition of this order, this force will marshal this land,” said Lady Wiloby, an elderly matriarch who had a business in the north of England that had something to do with rail carts.
“A separate order from ourselves. Controlled by us but not necessarily associated,” Master Montgomery said. “Mistress Quickly can begin the preliminary training and ordering of this division, and King George has already promised Archibald he would support the endeavor.”
“A named force,” Master Donne agreed, nodding stoically. “To give legitimacy. A public face for our private work.
“How about the Red Capes?” Uncle Horace said then motioned to the back of the room where Archibald and I were standing.
Everyone turned and looked at me.
I was, in fact, still wearing my red cloak. Master Edwards, so befuddled by the servants’ exclusion to the meeting, had forgotten to take mine and Archie’s wraps. And I’d been in such a hurry to get Archie to his grandfather that I’d forgotten too.
The room fell silent.
“I…I should go,” I stammered, fully realizing this was no social gathering. This was some sort of meeting. They were talking about the king.
To my great relief, those gathered there—and there were several newcomers in the crowd—smiled warmly at me. Several people in attendance chuckled.
“Red Capes,” Master Montgomery said. “I rather like that. Thank you for the idea, Miss Rossetti, but I believe we’ll see you again at dinner,” he said with a wink.
I nodded, cast Uncle Horace a sheepish and apologetic glance, then backed toward the door.
“I’ll see you soon,” Archie whispered to me.
I nodded, and with a smile, closed the door behind me.
With the door shut, I was unable to hear the conversation. Uncle Horace spoke once more, followed by Master Boatswain, but I couldn’t make out their words.
All my life I knew that Uncle Horace and Father were involved in something, but what? Something that concerned the king? And the leading artists and tinkers in our land? What in the world?
Suddenly feeling like I’d been left out of something exciting, I hea
ded back to my room feeling out of sorts. If this business in which my family was involved was of such a serious nature that the king was aware of it, then it was no wonder I was kept in the dark. After all, Uncle Horace thought I was off buying dolls and gallivanting about town all day long. No wonder he didn’t consider me high-minded enough to be let in on any secrets.
But Archie did.
Archie saw something in me.
I pulled off my outdoor wraps, grabbed my journal, and settled into the window seat. I hated feeling like something was happening just under my nose. But as I thought back, I realized it had always been like this. There had always been unusual people floating about, secret documents, and clandestine rendezvous. I just thought it was normal. Aren’t all artists, thinkers, and investors always a bit odd?
Maybe.
But maybe there was more to it than that.
Sighing, I leaned back into my seat. Light snow began to fall. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve. My father would come to Strawberry Hill. And then what? Back to London? Back to parties, teas, and social calls? No, thank you. The truth was, I loved working for Laura and Lizzie. I enjoyed puzzling out problems and keeping my hands busy. I loved reading the strange books in Uncle Horace’s library. Whatever was going on, I wanted to know more. I wanted to know.
I reluctantly kept myself busy until a maid came to help me change for dinner. Selecting an emerald green gown and brushing my hair up into a bun, I primped for the event. I returned to the parlor once more. To my surprise, the place was busier than ever. At least a dozen more people had arrived.
Archie met me at the door.
“Scarlette,” he said, offering his arm to me. “Come, I want you to meet someone.”
I hooked my arm with his, bidding my cheeks not to redden at his touch.
“Master Hawking,” he said, approaching a handsome young man with a mirthful laugh.
“Ah, Archie,” the man said, clapping Archibald on the shoulder. “There you are. And who is this?”
“This is Miss Scarlette Rossetti. Miss Rossetti, may I introduce Master Arthur Hawking and his wife, Violet,” Archie said, motioning to the dark-haired woman beside him.
Master Hawking, much like Master Boatswain, was a renowned inventor. In fact, if I remembered correctly, Master and Missus Hawking worked with airships.