Goblins and Snowflakes

by Melanie Karsak

  “Pleased to meet you,” I said, dropping a curtsey.

  Missus Hawking smiled nicely. “Pleased to meet you, Miss Rossetti. I’m an admirer of your father’s work. Is he here?”

  “No, Missus Hawking. He’ll arrive in the morning.”

  “Good, good,” Master Hawking said. “Well, it looks like Old Horace will have a full house by Christmas.”

  “So many minds,” Violet said, scanning around the room.

  “And one new, brilliant mind to add to our company,” Archie added, motioning to me.

  “Oh, indeed, indeed. Master Boatswain spoke of your invention at our gathering,” Master Hawking said. “However did you master such intricate devices, Miss Rossetti?”

  “It was nothing, really. I studied an advertisement.”

  At that, both Arthur and Violet Hawking laughed.

  “She is most definitely one of us,” Violet said.

  “One of you?” I asked.

  “A thinker,” Violet answered, tapping her head.

  “And a tinker,” Arthur added with a merry chuckle.

  I smiled at Missus Hawking. She had such wide, beautiful brown eyes, and she exuded wisdom. It filled me with pride that someone like her could see something in a slip of a girl like me.

  Master Edwards rang the bell, calling us all for dinner.

  We headed inside. Tonight, I was seated by Archie.

  We settled in to eat a sumptuous feast of roasted pheasant, quail, beef, truffles, roasted root vegetables in rich sauce, and more. The table was heaped with food, and there were now more than three dozen in our party. I recognized many of the people from the meeting earlier today, including Mistress Quickly who sat beside Master Montgomery. The pair spoke in low tones.

  “I’m sorry if you felt awkward earlier today,” Archie told me.

  “I did, but only because I stumbled into something a bit above my head, I believe.”

  “Yes and no. As Master Rossetti’s daughter and Earl Walpole’s niece, it only fits you have a place in the discussion and take part in our…group. It is for your uncle and father to decide of course, but my grandfather suggested it to the other members.”

  I cast a glance down the table at Master Boatswain who was sitting beside my uncle. The pair were locked in deep conversation.

  “And?”

  “Well,” Archie said with a grin. “My grandfather’s word has considerable weight.”

  “I suppose I would know better what to think if I knew what, exactly, this group concerned itself with.”

  Archie pulled off the pin he wore on his lapel and handed it to me. “The care of this realm, and stewardship of her future.”

  “Weighty, but less than specific,” I said with a grin.

  “You’re right.”

  “I’m guessing you can’t tell me more.”

  “Sadly.”

  “Then I suppose I will have to be settled for now. If all else fails, at least I know have a position waiting for me in the village at the Two Sisters.”

  Archie chuckled. “Miss Lizzie sang your praises. They both did.”

  “That was kind of them.”

  “And true. I’d love for you to come work with me on a project when we return to London.”

  “What kind of project?”

  “Well, a version of your mechanical device…but life-sized.”

  “Life-sized? A true automaton?”

  Archie nodded.

  “I must ask my father, but I don’t see why he’d oppose.”

  Archie nodded happily. “Then let’s have a toast, Miss Rossetti,” he said, lifting his cup.

  “And what are we toasting?”

  “Hmm,” Archie mused. “Gnomes. To clockwork gnomes. And to the future.”

  I chuckled. “To clockwork gnomes and the future,” I said, clicking my cup against his.

  Filled with merry conversation, the evening passed quickly. The group lingered at dinner. I was surprised when the grandfather clock chimed ten. I yawned tiredly. I had been awake since before dawn. It was starting to catch up with me.

  “My grandfather…” Archie whispered. “I need to take him upstairs. It’s far too late for him, though the others look like they’ll be at it for hours. You look like you could use some sleep as well. I’ll see you in the morning?”

  I nodded and rose. “Goodnight, Archie.”

  “Goodnight, Scarlette.”

  Archie discreetly took my hand, gave it a soft squeeze, then left me. I worked my way through the room until I found Uncle Horace.

  “Uncle,” I said, catching him between conversation partners, “I’ll retire for the night.”

  “Goodness, Scarlette. I’ve quite neglected you today, I’m afraid. But I see you found a conversation partner,” he added, looking back at Archie.

  “So I have.”

  “Well done,” Uncle Horace whispered. “Well done, my girl. Now, go and get your rest. We’ll see your father here tomorrow.”

  “I can’t wait! Goodnight, Uncle,” I said, kissing him on the cheek then slipping back upstairs once more.

  My heart beating merrily, I removed the lovely gown and slipped into a nightdress. I slid into bed, closing my eyes for the night, happy thoughts of Archie and my future dancing through my mind. But as I drifted off to sleep, the wind rattled my window. And I could swear, for just a moment, I heard a voice amongst the flurries calling, “Come buy. Come buy.”

  Chapter 7: What to my Wondering Eyes Should Appear?

  I woke the next morning just as the sun was rising. I dashed out of bed and quickly began to get ready for the day. This would be the last morning I could visit Lizzie and Laura at the shop. I wanted to get there the moment they opened. It was cold that morning. I went to the window to discover it had snowed overnight. The grounds surrounding Strawberry Hill were covered in a thick blanket of snow. The sunrise cast a pinkish glow on the powdery flakes making them shimmer with rosy, incandescent light.

  Pulling on my boots, I rushed downstairs only to find Master Edwards waiting in the foyer, my red cloak in his hand.

  “Miss Rossetti,” he said softly as he held out my wrap. “The maid brought your cloak downstairs. I warmed it by the fire for you so it would be ready for you.”

  “Have I become so predictable?”

  He chuckled. “Yes. Do keep in mind your father will be here by tea time.”

  I grinned at Mister Edwards. “No one will miss me before then.”

  “Save young Master Boatswain,” he said with a wink.

  “Well, I suppose it is good to be missed at times.”

  “Yes, indeed. Be careful, Miss Rossetti. There is a heavy chill in the air this morning.”

  “Thank you,” I said then pulled my cloak around me and headed out the door.

  The icy winter air snatched my breath away when I stepped outside. I headed down the drive, surprised to find the snow was halfway up my shins. I was suddenly very glad Laura and Lizzie lived in town. It was too cold for them to be out in weather like this.

  Rushing, I made my way down the lane and into the woods. But I slowed as I went, surprised to see the merchant tents had been erected in the woods once more. Everything was tranquil, but a trail of smoke rose up from their fire. I didn’t know where the merchants had gone, but clearly, they were back.

  I remembered Mistress Quickly’s words, how she had said it seemed the merchants had left.

  Indeed, seemed was the right word, for here they were once more.

  Frowning, I rushed down the path and back into town. Thankfully, there was no sign of the merchants. Even Twickenham was quiet. It was still very early, the lamplighters just putting out the lights, the shop owners inside the small shops just beginning to move about as the day started.

  When I arrived at Laura and Lizzie’s shop, I realized I’d beaten them there. Well, it wouldn’t hurt anything to go inside and get the stove fired up. Maybe I could even get a little work done. Moving aside the sign, I pulled out the key and unlocked the door.r />
  The door opened with a merry jingle. I pulled off my cloak and hung it on the peg at the front. I went to the little fire at the side of the room and began to bank up the coals. I stirred them with the poker then lay logs inside the stove. Blowing on the embers, I had the flames crackling in no time. I rose and stood, my hands outstretched, warming them by the fire.

  From the back of the shop, deep in the workshop, I heard a music box chime a strange, discordant note. But it wasn’t just any music box. It was the doll pianist. Now, why was she chiming?

  Grabbing the teapot sitting on the stove, I headed to the back to fill it with water and to see what was the matter. Was my music box malfunctioning?

  When I arrived in the workshop, a strange chill washed over me.

  I stared at the workbench. The long bench, which stretched from one end of the room to the other, had been cleared of all the clutter that usually heaped it. Instead of a muddled mess, the workbench was lined with pretty boxes filled with beautiful dolls, bears, babies, and other toys. All the supplies that had laid haphazardly on the table had been neatly stowed in boxes, bins, and baskets on the shelf. Laura’s pile of orders was done. The boxes, lined with paper, sat neatly arranged. Everything was finished.

  The piano chimed once more.

  My eyes went to the end of the workbench where I usually worked. There, I spotted my gnomes. The clockwork gnome, the little conductor of my troupe, was positioned beside the piano girl, his hand resting near the level that operated the music box. The other little gnomes stood nearby, lined up as if they were surveying the pretty packages sitting on the table.

  “Oh my goodness, did you forget to lock the door? Lizzie!” I heard Laura say followed by the ring of the bell over the front door.

  “I most certainly did lock the door,” Lizzie protested.

  “It’s me. Laura, Lizzie, it was me. I’m here,” I called then turned to go back to the front of the shop. I paused a moment, casting a glance at the gnomes once more.

  My imagination was running away with me, but I could have sworn I saw a strange glimmer in the gnomes’ eyes, a kind of cheerful smile.

  “Oh, Scarlette. You gave us a fright,” Lizzie said.

  “I’m so sorry. I got here early, so I let myself in. I started the fire. I was about to put on some tea.”

  Laura nodded then smiled. “Yes, yes. We best get the tea on. Oh, my old bones are so weary, and it will be a long day.”

  “Yes…but…” I said, looking back at the workbench.

  When Laura and Lizzie rounded the corner, they both came to a complete stop.

  “However did you do it?” I asked them. “You must have worked all night.”

  The sisters looked at one another and then at me. Laughing gleefully, they embraced me at the same time, squeezing me tight.

  “Dear Scarlette,” Lizzie said.

  “Oh, Scarlette. You’re such a blessing. Look at all this!” Laura exclaimed.

  “What time did you get here? Oh, my, look at these packages,” Lizzie said going over to the workbench. “And you tidied the shelves too.”

  “Me? No, I just—“ I began in protest.

  “You’re just an angel. A Christmas angel. My dear Scarlette, thank you,” Laura said then patted me on the cheek. “Now, let me see,” she said, picking up the order sheet. “Wilkens, Rahms, Trelawney, Corson,” and on she went, reading off each order as she moved around the room checking the boxes. “All done. Scarlette! You must have come in the middle of the night. Sweet, wonderful girl.”

  Stunned, I didn’t know what to say.

  The sisters thought I had done the work. I hadn’t.

  But if they hadn’t done the work, who had?

  The toy piano chimed once more.

  I glanced at the end of the table.

  The little conductor was sitting on the bench next to the piano girl.

  “How cute,” Laura said, motioning to the gnome. “Is he accompanying?”

  “I…yes.”

  I stared at the gnome.

  Magic.

  That’s what Master Boatswain had said.

  Magic.

  But magic wasn’t real. Magic didn’t exist. It didn’t make sense.

  “Oh, how merry,” Lizzie exclaimed. “Laura, run to the baker’s shop and buy us some scones and gingerbread. Let’s celebrate. Poor, dear Scarlette must be so tired after working so. Let’s feed her properly.”

  “Yes, you’re right. You’re right,” Laura agreed and moving quickly, she grabbed her coat and headed out of the store.

  “What a gift you’ve given us, my dear,” Lizzie said, shaking her head as she looked over the workshop. “What a gift.” She moved off then to fill the teapot with water.

  My hands shaking, my knees feeling weak, I went to the back of the workshop and looked at the little gnomes. I couldn’t help but notice the thread in the tailor gnome’s pouch was a different color, the tinker’s tools had been rearranged, and there was a smear of paint on the artist gnome’s face that hadn’t been there before.

  Not possible.

  I lifted the clockwork gnome and looked into his beady eyes.

  “Have you done this?” I whispered.

  The gnome stared blankly back at me. But there was a comical glimmer in his glass eyes that hadn’t been there before.

  I sat holding the gnome in my hand. Master Boatswain invented so many miraculous things. Some of his creations defied imagination. Did the master tinker know something I didn’t? I looked at the other gnomes, eyeing the musicians whose faces looked far more jovial than they once had. Their smiles were wider. What, exactly, did Master Boatswain really know?

  Lizzie hummed merrily as she made tea. It wasn’t long thereafter that Laura returned with the bakery items. The ladies took a seat near me, Lizzie pouring us all tea while Laura unpacked the scones and gingerbread. The workshop filled with the sweet scents of bread, sugar, flour, and spice.

  “To Scarlette,” Lizzie said, lifting her teacup in a toast.

  “To Scarlette,” Laura agreed.

  I shook my head. “Would you ladies believe me if I told you it wasn’t me? I don’t deserve the credit at all. I didn’t lift a hand.”

  The sisters laughed.

  “Then who did?” Laura asked.

  “The gnomes,” I answered.

  They laughed once more.

  “The gnomes? Really, Scarlette. I think you’ve spent far too much time at Strawberry Hill,” Laura said.

  “I swear, it wasn’t me,” I protested.

  Chuckling, the sisters gestured for me to lift my teacup.

  I sighed. “Very well. Well then, let’s cheer to jobs well done—no matter whose hands do the work.”

  “We can agree with that,” the sisters said, and we clinked our cups together.

  I turned my cup toward the gnomes, toasting them.

  At that single moment, the clockwork gnome moved his hand as if waving away the compliment.

  I lowered my cup.

  “Did you see that?” I asked, gesturing to the gnome. “It moved.”

  “Earl Walpole has her imagination stirring. Of course it moved, Scarlette. You tinkered it to move,” Lizzie said with a laugh.

  “No…but…no, you see, I didn’t wind him this morning.”

  “Such devices always have an extra chime in them,” Lizzie said.

  “So they do. They chime at the weirdest hours. It’s like a…burp,” Laura said then laughed, her sister howling along with her.

  I chuckled, shook my head, then took a slice of the gingerbread.

  “Well, it’s very rude of you to burp,” I told the gnome with a wink.

  The sisters laughed.

  I looked at Laura and Lizzie. Were they teasing me? Had they done the work and were just making a prank? I shook my head. No. They hadn’t done the work. And neither had I.

  Magic.

  Was it possible?

  Chapter 8: Come Buy

  I spent the next hour lingering over pa
stries and listening to Laura’s and Lizzie’s stories. Feeling confident that their workload was well in hand, I thought it best to head back home before my father arrived. I helped the sisters clear up our breakfast then stopped by the gnomes once more.

  “So, Master Boatswain is a wizard, eh? He talked me into enchanting you. Hagstones for hearts. Now, don’t be coy with me. Show me something,” I whispered to the gnomes.

  They didn’t move, but I felt their laughter hiding behind their eyes.

  Either that or I was going mad.

  “Almost time to open the shop,” Lizzie said.

  I nodded. “I’ll go back to Strawberry Hill. Now, is there anything else you need? Can I do anything for you?” I asked.

  The sisters shook their heads. “No, my dear, oh no. You’ve already done so much.”

  “You know, it really wasn’t me,” I said once again, making both sisters chuckle.

  “Yes, Scarlette, so you’ve told us,” Laura said then helped me on with my cape. “It was the gnomes.”

  “Yes, the gnomes,” Lizzie added with a laugh.

  “Just be sure to wind the clockwork gnome tonight.”

  “Wind him up tonight?” Laura asked, and this time, she eyed me closely.

  I nodded. “Can’t have his spirit running down. I know you don’t believe me, but promise me that you’ll wind him.”

  “All right,” Laura consented.

  I kissed the sisters on their cheeks. “Happy Christmas Eve.”

  “And to you, Scarlette. Christmas greetings to Earl Walpole,” Lizzie said.

  “And to young Master Boatswain,” Laura added with a wink.

  Giggling, I headed back outside. I pulled up my hood then breathed in the crisp winter air. There was a merry feeling all around. A sleigh drove past, the horse’s tail and main trimmed with jingle bells. In the church at the village square, the choir practiced The First Noel. A street vendor was selling honey-roasted almonds. Two children rushed from his stand, clutching parchment paper filled with the roasted confections. I caught the toasty scent of the almonds on the wind. There was another stall near the nut vendor selling mulled wine. It was far too early to drink, but I picked up the hint of the spices used to herb the wine on the wind. I spotted other small stands selling Christmas cookies, hot cakes, and other sweets. Twickenham’s center square was a bustling Christmas market. Everyone was out. Part of me hated to miss the festivities, but the other part of me was dying to return to Strawberry Hill. I had questions, lots of them, for Master Boatswain, Senior.