“Good morning,” I said.
“You’re all looking lovely.” He sat back in his chair, rubbing his temples.
“Papa, what’s wrong?” Josephine asked. “Are you ill?”
“No, darling. I had a terrible night’s sleep. I’ll have to have a nap after church.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. If Lord Barnes had proven to be a drunk, I’d have been extremely disappointed to learn that my first impression was wrong.
Fiona and Cymbeline led me over to the head of the table. “This is where you should sit,” Cymbeline said to me. The table was set with places for seven, with shining silver utensils and delicate china painted with a pattern of pink roses.
“But first you have to get a plate of food,” Josephine said.
The boys were at the buffet with Jasper, who was scooping scrambled eggs onto their plates.
“Have whatever suits you for breakfast,” Lord Barnes said.
My stomach rumbled in response. The scent of bacon and coffee had me salivating and light-headed. Taking a cue from the girls, I loaded my plate with eggs, bacon, and slices of toasted bread spread with butter.
Now that I looked more closely at Jasper, he also looked tired and sad. What had happened after I went to bed last night?
The boys had already taken places on either side of their father. A chandelier made of glass hung over a rectangular dining table. Dark walls and almost crude-looking furniture, including a buffet and hutch, seemed rustic and rich all at once. A bank of windows looked out to a world covered in a white blanket. Thin winter sunlight filtered through the glass. Outside, sparrows leapt between pines and firs with branches laden with snow.
As directed, I sat at one end of the long table. My eyes met Lord Barnes’s briefly before I directed my gaze toward the two little girls who were squabbling over who was granted permission to sit next to me.
Lord Barnes returned to his coffee and book. This house did not seem to have rules about children being seen and not heard. Perhaps this was part of Nanny Foster’s concern? Myself, I liked to hear children’s voices and thoughts, even if this wasn’t really the way of most households.
“I’ll sit between you.” I patted the places on either side of me. “One here. One there. Will that do?” I asked.
They both nodded and climbed onto the chairs. Josephine shot me a conspiratorial look as if to acknowledge how naughty the “children” were. She took the chair next to Cymbeline.
To my alarm, the Barnes children dived into their food. Weren’t we going to say grace? And why was Lord Barnes reading at the table? Children being allowed to talk was one thing, but this was quite another.
“Are you not hungry, Miss Cooper?” Josephine’s fork was poised midair as she peered at me.
Flynn, with a bite of toast in his mouth, mumbled something I couldn’t decipher to Theo. Fiona hummed softly and swung her legs under the table while spreading jam on her toast. Cymbeline pushed her eggs around her plate, presumably to make it look as if she’d eaten.
Lord Barnes looked up from his book. “Miss Cooper? Is something wrong?” He looked so utterly done in and sad I lost my will to educate them on proper breakfast behavior.
“I don’t know if I should say,” I said.
“No, please. If something’s troubling you, just come out with it,” Lord Barnes said.
I cleared my throat and used my best schoolteacher voice. “First, one shouldn’t read at the table during meals. Secondly, grace should be said before anyone even thinks about picking up a fork. Third, Flynn, we don’t talk with our mouths full.”
A flicker of guilt mixed with amusement crossed Lord Barnes’s face as he closed his book and set it aside. “Anything else, Miss Cooper?”
“Not at the moment,” I said, emboldened by the way the children had all paused in their fevered consumption to stare at me.
“You’re quite right on all counts,” Lord Barnes said. “Would you do the honors, Miss Cooper?”
I nodded. “Put down your forks and bow your heads.”
To my surprise, the children did as I asked. There was a great clattering of forks against china before they all bowed their heads obediently.
“Dear Lord, thank you for the bounty we’re about to enjoy,” I said. “Please watch over us today. Amen.”
A chorus of “amen” came from around the table, before the enjoyment of the meal resumed.
I took a bite from my toast and almost fainted at the divine taste of freshly churned butter on warm bread.
Flynn’s head tilted to one side. “Miss Cooper, how come people can’t talk with their mouths full?”
“Because it’s rude,” I said. “Bad manners.”
“Nanny Foster told us that already,” Theo said to his brother.
“I never heard her,” Flynn said.
Lord Barnes lifted his gaze toward me. “You’re looking well-rested, Miss Cooper.”
“Thank you. I am. The bed in my room was the most comfortable I’ve ever slept on.” I had to hold back my praise of the indoor plumbing. Instead, I ate from the creamy eggs on my plate.
“Were you warm enough, Miss Cooper?” Josephine asked, sounding much too grown-up for thirteen.
“Oh yes. The feather comforter kept me cozy,” I said. “Merry ran a hot bath for me, which was heavenly.” I leaned close to Fiona and whispered, “I was able to wash my hair.”
“I like your hair,” Fiona whispered back.
“I like your hair,” I said. There was a spot of red jam in the middle of her chin. I reached over with my napkin to swipe it away. “But we can’t have a sticky face now, can we?”
Fiona giggled. “I love jam.”
“Jam is one of life’s best things.” She was so dear. The child had no mother, no woman to love her and nurture her.
Jasper approached with a silver coffeepot in one large hand. “May I offer you coffee, Miss Cooper?”
I almost squealed with delight. “Oh my. I haven’t had a decent cup in ages. Yes, please.” Jasper poured a steaming cup for me. The rich, toasty aroma filled my nose as I took a happy sip. An appreciative grunt escaped before I could censor myself. “Oh my, that’s delicious.”
I looked up to see Lord Barnes smiling at me from over his own cup. “I see you enjoy your coffee as much as your food.”
Laughing, I set the cup back into its saucer. “This was worth the train ride.”
I’d just finished my second piece of bacon when Lizzie came into the room with another tray of toast and set it in the middle of the table. “The boys always want more toast,” she said, glancing in my direction. “Hollow leg, these two.”
She winked at me, and I smiled back. In the light of day, I could see she was older than I’d first thought. A sparkle in her eyes and the quick way she darted around a room made her seem youthful. I guessed her to be somewhere in her thirties, although her fair skin was virtually unwrinkled and her hair untouched with gray. Faint lines around her eyes hinted of a more mature woman. She wore a plain gray dress with a large white apron over the top. I’d have given a lot to fill out a dress in the way Lizzie did.
“How will we get to church?” I asked. Before I’d agreed to stay at the house, I assumed I’d walk everywhere. Now I wasn’t certain, especially given the massive amount of snow on the ground.
“We’ll go in the sleigh,” Lord Barnes said. “Just as we will tomorrow morning for the first day of school.”
“What about me?” Fiona asked. “What will I do when everyone’s at school?”
Lord Barnes frowned. “You’ll stay with Lizzie.”
“I want to go to school.” Fiona stuck out her bottom lip. “Everyone has fun without me.”
“You’re too young, love,” Lord Barnes said. “We’ve been over this.”
Tears welled in the child’s eyes, and her bottom lip quivered. “I want to go.”
“Can she go for me?” Flynn asked.
“And me?” Cymbeline asked.
“She may not,”
Lord Barnes said. “It’s a privilege to go to school. One in which I’ve invested a lot of money and effort on your behalf. You’ll go, and I’ll hear no more about it.”
I suspected Lord Barnes wasn’t often stern with them, because the twins exchanged a nervous glance and Cymbeline busied herself with a piece of toast.
“Eat a bite of eggs,” I said to Cymbeline.
Her big eyes widened, then hardened. “I don’t like eggs.”
“They’re good for you,” I said. “They help grow your brain and make you strong and fast.”
“They do?” Cymbeline asked.
I nodded and motioned toward her untouched piece of bacon. “Bacon too.”
“I can’t eat that,” Cymbeline said, shuddering. “It’s from Harry.”
“Harry?” I asked.
“Our pig,” Josephine said. “Our pig who was not a pet.”
“He was raised for food,” Theo said, speaking for the first time. “But Cym loved him. She loves all animals.” His tone was serious, as was the concerned wrinkle of his forehead. “There are two types in this family. Those who like books and those who like animals.”
“Papa likes both,” Josephine said. “And we don’t yet know about Fiona because she’s too little.”
“I’m big.” Fiona scowled as she held up three fingers. “I’m this many.”
“You’re a very big girl,” I said. “And big girls don’t make a fuss.”
Fiona continued to scowl but consoled herself with another piece of toast and jam.
Cymbeline tapped my forearm. “Do you see this?” With her other hand, she raised her fork to her mouth and took a bite of eggs.
“Good girl,” I said. “I can practically see you growing.”
Cymbeline grinned and took another bite.
“And you?” I asked Josephine. “Books, I’m guessing.”
“That’s correct.” She lifted her pointy chin and granted me a prim smile. “One can go anywhere in a book.”
“In case you want to know, I’m the animal type,” Flynn said. “And the type who doesn’t want to go to school when there’s adventures out there.” He pointed toward the window.
“School can be an adventure,” I said. “Learning new things brings adventure, anyway. You can’t expect to go out into the world without knowing how to read, write, and do arithmetic.”
Flynn sighed. “If you say so.”
“I like books,” Theo said. “Animals do not smell good. I have a sensitive nose.”
I laughed. A sensitive nose? Where had he heard that from?
“What about you, Miss Cooper?” Flynn asked.
“I happen to like both,” I said.
“Just like Papa,” Josephine said. “What a great coincidence.”
Chapter 6
Alexander
After breakfast, I shooed the children out of the dining room. I needed to talk to Miss Cooper about last night for several reasons, the most important of which was to ask if she remembered seeing anything before or after the gunshots. Harley had not, remembering only the shot and then trying to control the horses. The Higgins brothers had come along minutes after the crash. They’d been at the station to pick up an item sent from Denver. Harley had seen them arrive as he left with Miss Cooper. This kept them from being suspects in the murder of Samuel Cole.
I looked at Miss Cooper from across the table, helpless as to how to start. Weariness washed over me like a series of waves. I wished for my bed. I wished I didn’t have to go into town and tell everyone at church that my neighbor was murdered in his own yard. I wished Miss Cooper would remain ignorant of the dark undercurrents of our community.
Just tell her directly, I thought. She’s not a child. “The gunshots that scared the horses were directed at my friend and neighbor. He was found by his wife minutes later dead near his woodshed. Two bullet wounds through his chest killed him.”
Her hand flew to her mouth. “No.”
“He left behind a wife and three young children. Someone in this town murdered him.”
“But why? Who would do such a thing?” she asked.
“Do you remember seeing anyone during the drive?”
“No, it was dark, and I was sleepy. I didn’t wake up until the shots rang out.” She hesitated. “They did seem close, though.”
“You were near his place. If the weather hadn’t been so bad, you would have seen the lights from his house.”
“I wish I could help,” she said. “When did you find out?”
I told her about Rachel showing up at my door. I left it at that. She didn’t need to know how we’d spent the night shoveling away snow and then digging into the cold ground.
“I don’t want this to scare you,” I said.
“I’m not scared.” She blinked several times but squared her shoulders. “I am, however, grateful to be living here at the house. Thank you, again.”
“No need, Miss Cooper. It sets my mind at ease to have you with us.”
After church, I’d have to go out to see Rachel. For now, I needed to get the children loaded into the sleigh and off to Sunday service.
Chapter 7
Quinn
Merry helped the girls and me get bundled up in coats and scarves and hats. When ready, we went out to the covered awning on the side of the house where a horse-drawn sleigh waited.
Flynn and Cymbeline were already outside, tossing snowballs at each other and making a great deal of noise. Harley, with his left hand in a bandage, stood near a different set of horses from the night before, petting their noses and speaking softly into their ears. Next to him, a little girl in a gray cloak waved to us.
“That’s Harley’s sister, Poppy,” Josephine said.
“They’re our friends,” Cymbeline said.
“I met Harley last night,” I said.
“Merry likes him,” Josephine whispered.
“But he doesn’t know I’m alive,” Merry said under her breath.
Harley held up a hand and reached into the sleigh, then held up my hat. “I’ve saved it, Miss Cooper.”
“Thank goodness,” I called out to him. “I was about to make my debut in town hatless.”
He sprinted over to me, presenting it like a crown.
I snatched it from him and happily set it upon my head, securing it with the pins.
Harley took off his cap, revealing a head of wavy brown hair. “Little ladies.” He bowed to them, causing them to giggle. He straightened and nodded at Merry.
“Hello, Merry.”
“Hi, Harley.” Merry’s cheeks flushed bright pink.
“Miss Cooper. Are you feeling all right?” he asked me. “I feel terrible about what happened.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” I said. Knowing what I did now, I was sure this was true. “Are the horses well?”
“Yes, they were fine,” Harley said. “You took the brunt of it—popped out of there like a ball from a cannon.”
I laughed. “I should never have fallen asleep.”
Poppy had come up behind him, peering around his waist. “This is Poppy,” Harley said. “My sister.”
“Nice to meet you, Poppy,” I said.
She bowed her head. “Nice to meet you.”
“How old are you?” I asked.
“Thirteen,” Poppy said.
Her answer surprised me. She was small for a girl her age.
“Poppy’s my best friend,” Josephine said as they clasped hands.
Harley placed his bandaged hand on top of Poppy’s knit cap. “We’re lucky to have such good friends and employers.”
Poppy and Josephine exchanged a smile.
Flynn and Cymbeline ran up, out of breath and glowing from the cold and exercise. Snow dusted their coats and boots. Behind me, the door opened, and Lord Barnes joined us.
“Have you met Oliver and Twist, Miss Cooper?” Lord Barnes asked.
“We’re giving Prince and Pauper the day off,” Harley said. “Since they had a scare.”
Fly
nn patted Twist on his neck. “He’s a good boy, this one.”
“Papa named them,” Theo said. “After the Dickens character.”
“I had a suspicion,” I said.
The children clambered into the sleigh. The boys squeezed into the back seat while Harley helped the three girls into the middle. Lord Barnes held out his hand to assist me into the front row, behind the driver’s seat. As Harley jumped up, Lord Barnes smoothed a blanket over my lap.
The children were a jolly bunch by the time we set out from the house. Laughter and high-pitched chatter mingled with the jingle of the horses’ bells as we glided through the snow. With the sky a bright blue, brilliant against the white backdrop, it was hard to believe that a blizzard had come through hours before. I turned back to take a good look at the house. Made of red brick, with two large pillars in the front, the house was as pretty as any I’d ever seen, even in the most expensive parts of Boston.
“However did you build such a beautiful house in this remote place?” I asked Lord Barnes.
“One brick at a time,” he said. “It took me several years. I brought Ida out from New York after that. She didn’t want to come out here before it was completed.”
Being this close to him gave me a strange sensation—excited and safe at the same time. Drifts of snow had settled in his dark eyebrows, making them appear white. Fortunately, my arms were firmly tucked under the blanket or I might have been tempted to brush them away.
I looked away, toward the white field and red barn. “This is like a painting.” I said this as a way to break this magnetic pull between us. Even so, the statement was true. I’d never seen a prettier landscape than the one before me now.
“Do you like it?” he asked.
“Very much. There’s something so calming about the snow, don’t you think?”
He nodded, but his eyes lost focus, as if he had slipped behind a curtain. “My late wife hated the snow. She never adjusted to our winters.”
Oliver and Twist neighed cheerfully as we turned right onto what appeared to be a road of packed snow, made slick by the passing of other sleighs.
“Ida was from New York,” Lord Barnes said. “She couldn’t understand my love of this place. The way the air is so crisp and sharp and the sky this remarkable blue, even in the winter.”
The School Mistress (Emerson Pass Book 1) Page 7
