Steam & Sorcery (7 page)

“Jamie can’t write, miss.” Wink kept her eyes downcast. “He’s just now learning his letters. I can do his for him.”

“Jamie did his share of the poor behavior, so he shall do his share of the punishment, though his version of a letter may certainly differ from those of the rest of you,” Caroline acknowledged. “Perhaps one of the recipients would appreciate a drawing, with the word
sorry,
which he can copy. Shall we adjourn to the schoolroom? Who can show me where the paper, pens and ink are located?”

Tommy lifted his hand. “I can, miss. And I’ll write to Miss Hadrian.”

“I threw the pea at Mary,” Piers said glumly. “I should apologize to her.”

“Excellent choice, Piers,” Caroline said.

“Cook likes pictures,” Jamie noted. “Gots one in the kitchen she said was from her grandson.”

“Very well. Wink and Nell, that leaves Johnson and Sally.” Caroline stood. “Now come along.”

They all obediently followed her into the other room. Tommy showed her the cabinet containing writing supplies, and she removed six slates and chalk, along with pens, pencils and paper. She distributed the slate and chalks first. On the sixth, she wrote, “I’m sorry for wasting food,” and handed it to Jamie. “Practice copying those words,” she told him, then to the rest, “I want to see your letters written out on the slates, so we can make corrections before you commit them to paper and ink.” She had no intention of making this too easy for them.

As they worked, Caroline patrolled the outside of the table, pointing out errors in spelling or wording, as well as suggesting possible additions to the letters. Eventually she handed Jamie a piece of foolscap and some colored pencils, watching as he carefully wrote his five words at the top and his name at the bottom, then began to draw.

She filled inkwells and distributed paper to the older children once their longer, more detailed apologies had been approved, based on age and skill. Piers’s to Mary was brief and to the point, but Caroline was satisfied that it was heartfelt and hoped the maid wouldn’t end up resigning over the contretemps. Finally, Caroline helped them fold the letters and seal them with small globs of candle wax. Just as they finished, Sally carried in the tray of bread, butter and tea which the children all regarded hopefully.

Shyly, Nell handed Sally her letter as Caroline had instructed. “We’re sorry. We’ll try not to do it again.”

The young woman quickly hid a grin. “All right then. Reckon things happen, sometimes.” Caroline made a mental note to ask if that particular maid could be assigned to the nursery full-time.

“The rest of you will deliver your letters in the morning,” Caroline said. “Now, while we have our snack, I’d like to begin a habit of reading aloud in the evenings. I’ll start off, then perhaps we can eventually take turns. I see a shelf of books over against the far wall. Jamie, do you have a favorite story?”

“Hansel and Gretel, miss. My mum used to tell me that one.”

“And is there a copy of that over there?”

Piers nodded. “I’ll get it.” He hurried over to the shelf and returned with a book of faery tales. “It’s in here.”

“Thank you, Piers.” Caroline found the place and waited until Piers took his seat before she began to read.

Things had been quiet upstairs for over an hour, which was worrisome. God knew what those little demons were up to. He’d managed to talk the maid out of quitting, but it had been a close thing. Now, Merrick had planned to leave for his club, but on his way upstairs to change, he couldn’t resist a side trip to the nursery, which, thank God, was in the opposite wing from his bedroom.

He padded down the hallway and spotted the new governess bending over one of the twin beds in the younger boys’ room. To Merrick’s surprise, both boys were clean and quiet in their beds—and not tied in place, which made their stillness even more suspect.

“Does it hurt very badly?”

“Not much, miss,” Jamie replied with a grin and a yawn.

“Well, good. We’ll have you fixed up in no time.” Miss Bristol tucked the sheets up around the boy’s chin and brushed a strand of hair off his face as Merrick watched from the doorway. Then she moved over to the other bed and plucked a book out of Piers’s hands. “Sleep now. There will be plenty of time for reading tomorrow. You need to get rid of that cough before you start burning the midnight oil.” She feathered a hand across the boy’s cheek before walking over to the dresser and turning down the lamp.

“Good night, miss,” both boys chorused as she turned toward the door.

Good lord, had she mesmerized them?

“Good night. I’ll leave the door open a touch, in case you need anything. I’ll be right across the hall.”

Merrick couldn’t see it, as he had ducked away from the exit before she turned, but he imagined both boys rolled their eyes at the cosseting. He wondered what the so-proper Miss Bristol would think if she could see her new charges wielding swords and fighting a vampyre.

“Is something amusing, Sir Merrick?” She’d slipped out of the room and partially closed the door behind her.

“Nothing at all, Miss Bristol. Do you think you can spare me a few moments of your time?”

“Of course.” She dipped a hint of a curtsey and waited for him to lead the way. Merrick didn’t think most men would have caught the shadow of wariness in her eyes, but then most men didn’t have Dorothy for an aunt. She’d informed him quite plainly that Miss Bristol had suffered advances from more than one employer, and warned him in no uncertain terms to keep his hands to himself—which suited him just fine. The last thing he wanted to do was get tangled up with an employee.

Instead of his library, he led her to a small, second-story sitting room, one open to the gallery at the top of the stairs. Dorothy favored this space for reading and visiting with friends, so a fire was kept glowing in the small marble hearth and the gaslights burned softly. Two chairs flanked a pedestal table near the back wall, and Merrick held one for Miss Bristol before seating himself opposite. A slight tension relaxed from her shoulders as he rested his hands on the tablecloth, in plain view.
Damn,
she had been accosted, hadn’t she?

“How the blazes did you get them quieted down?” In his limited experience, the only time those children were still was when they had passed out from exhaustion—or when they were plotting something.

Miss Bristol smiled. “In the boys’ case, full bellies, warm milk and a bloodthirsty bedtime story. They were nodding off before I reached ‘the end.’ The girls are happily doing whatever they wish for another hour or so, which means Nell is playing with her dolls and Wink is tinkering with her machines—though she said she’ll work on the smaller ones at night while the younger children are asleep, and keep the banging to a more civilized hour.”

“And Tommy?” Merrick meant to spend a little more time assessing the skills of his new ward before the Order’s tutor arrived.

“He is supposed to be studying his geography, but I believe he is cheating your footman and valet out of their wages down in the kitchen.” Behind her spectacles, there was a wry twinkle in her green eyes that suggested she wasn’t too offended.

“And you know this how?” Not that he thought she was wrong.

“Nell was less than pleased that he managed to escape the nursery and she didn’t. Once I got her talking about her dolls, however, she forgot all about it. Did you know she’s moved them all from the nursery to a corner of her bedroom? That one will either grow up to be a governess herself or have a brood of her own. She’s a natural with children. Each of the dolls in the nursery already has a name and a distinct personality. When she sings to them, it’s truly something to hear.”

Merrick chuckled. “Some use for those poor dolls at last. The only girl in that nursery for generations was Aunt Dorothy, and she never cared for girlish toys, though I understand her mother kept trying to interest her, which is why there’s such a large collection. My grandmother was a determined woman.”

“Imagine that.”

He chose to ignore the hint of dry sarcasm, though his lips may have twitched just a bit. Although he really should be leaving for his club, he found he was enjoying her quiet wit, so he lingered. It couldn’t be that trace of lavender and roses he kept smelling that had him mesmerized, or the challenging sparkle in those emerald eyes. No, he told himself firmly, it was simply good form to enquire after his newest staff member. “After having successfully navigated your first few hours, do you have any questions about your charges?”

“Do you truly believe that Nell can see ghosts, or are you merely humoring her?”

“She
can
see and speak with ghosts.” He steepled his fingers and studied Miss Bristol’s face intently, gauging her response. “It’s not a belief, it’s a fact. Will you be able to cope with that, Miss Bristol?”

Her pause for careful consideration pleased him—she was taking the question seriously. “Yes,” she finally said, nodding. “I believe I can. And the others?”

“Before we go any further, Miss Bristol, there are things you should know about this household—and things I may not discuss with you. I’ll need your word that none of this will ever pass your lips to anyone other than my aunt or myself. Aunt Dorothy trusts you. I hope that trust is not misplaced.”

“Unless the secret is a matter of breaking the law, I can give you my word. If the matter is an illicit one, then I suppose I’d like to know whether or not it is designed to victimize others. If you are a crime lord, Sir Merrick, I would prefer to walk away, though I will swear to secrecy regarding what I’ve seen and heard up to this point.”

Crime lord? Merrick gave in to the laughter that rumbled in his chest. “Rather the opposite, my dear. The secrets you may run across in this household are considered to be matters of State. My appointment is to the Crown.”

Her smile was warm and transformed her severely pretty face into one that was vivacious and lovely. Damn, he didn’t want to have noticed that. Back to business
.
“Well, then, you have my word that nothing I see or hear shall pass my lips.”

“Excellent.” How much to tell her? “Suffice it to say that Nell is not the only one of the children with supernatural gifts. Tommy, in particular, possesses talents that make him valuable to the Crown. His tutor will be working with him to develop those skills as well as the more ordinary ones.”

“I see. And the others are, of course, aware of his abilities. So part of my task is to keep them from inadvertently revealing anything to the outside world.”

She was taking this rather well. He nodded. “And helping them adjust to their new position in society, which will take a good bit of work.”

“Not in every case—Wink, at least, has had some formal education. Though getting her to wear frocks instead of trousers may prove difficult.”

“I suspect you are up to the challenge.” He rose to his feet and held out his hand. “Welcome to my household, Miss Bristol. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Thank you, Sir Merrick.” She stood and shook his hand. Once again, even through their gloves, he felt a frisson of…something. Was it true power or simple attraction? He rather hoped for the former. “Have a good evening, sir. I’m off to check on the girls.” With a swish of her biliously ugly brown skirts, she was out the door.

Caroline straightened the covers around Nell, who’d fallen asleep in the rocking chair with one of her dolls in her lap. Fortunately, the girl hadn’t truly woken when Caroline lifted her and put her to bed. Each of the eight dolls had, if not a cradle or toy pram to sleep in, at least a hatbox or carton that had been lined with scraps of cloth for blankets.

With her exotic looks, Nell might have the most difficulty fitting in to British society, but she was sweeter natured than some of her cohorts, which would help ease her path. Caroline tucked the covers in around the girl, then went out into the playroom where Wink was quietly tinkering with a bit of bronze and tin, her faithful companion, George, by her side.

“What are you building now?” Caroline sat in a chair well removed from any mechanism and folded her hands in her lap.

“It’s a spaniel,” Wink answered without looking up. “For Piers. I’d made him a kitten while he was ill, but it was destroyed by a cart horse.”

“From what I’ve gathered, Piers is a very lucky boy to have had the rest of you to look after him last winter.” Caroline had managed to discover that Piers’s bout with pneumonia had been a close call, and that he’d just been back on his feet for the past few months.

Wink shrugged, not looking up from her work. “When their mother died, their landlady sold him to a chimney sweep, and Nell was placed in an orphanage. Her mother and some other ghosts helped her escape. The governors of the orphanage were going to sell her to a brothel as soon as she had her first…” Her fair skin flushed and she stared intently at her work.

“Menses,” Caroline suggested, horrified but not terribly surprised. In that business it was probably considered a kindness to wait that long—many girls were sold off even younger. Though it took some effort, she kept her voice calm and even. “The scientific term is menses, though among women, even society women, you’ll also hear the words courses and flux, along with silly phrases like ‘monthly visitor.’ None of them are considered ladylike to mention in company, but of course women discuss such things with one another. I should hope you could come to me with any questions of that nature.”

“Aye, miss.” She picked up another piece of metal and screwed it to the growing pile on the table in front of her, which still bore no resemblance to a dog. “Mrs. Miller—she ran the teashop I lived above in Wapping—she explained things to me when it first happened. I used to fix things for her, and her friends, for food and a room. She wouldn’t let me share my room with Tommy, and she had to explain why. I didn’t believe her at first; it seemed so silly.”

“Yes, it does at first, doesn’t it?” Caroline couldn’t remember
not
knowing the differences between boys and girls, but she’d been raised on a country estate, spending much of her life watching the farm animals. “How old did you say you were when your father died?”