Love's First Flames (Banished Saga, 0.5) (6 page)

CHAPTER FIVE

“POLISH UP YOUR SHOES, RICH,” Gabriel said as he sat at the foot of his cot. “You don’t want to give Aunt a reason today.”

“Did you see the pile of gifts, Gabe?” Rich asked as he used a sock to wipe away smudges from his shoe, unable to hide the excitement from his voice. “Some of them have to be for us. They couldn’t all be just for our cousins.”

Jeremy nodded, nearly jumping in excitement, as he attempted to tame his cowlick. He licked his fingers and patted at his hair, to no avail.

“Well, let’s not keep her waiting. I’d hate for her good mood to change for any reason,” Gabriel said as he ushered his brothers out of their small room. He led the way upstairs to the formal parlor. A Christmas tree stood in one corner, glass ornaments hung on its branches. The smell of fresh pine filled the air, and Gabriel sniffed the scent appreciatively. A small mound of presents sat near the tree while the fireplace had been decorated with stockings and holly. Only four stockings hung over the crackling fire.

“What could you possibly be thinking, invading my parlor, disturbing us on our most precious of days?” their aunt asked as she entered the room, her plum dress swirling around her ankles and a small bustle at her back giving her rail-thin frame an illusion of curves.

“It’s Christmas, Aunt.” Gabriel looked from the parlor to the dining room, where the sideboard overflowed with delicacies. “You invited us to join you today.” He stood tall, in front of his brothers in an attempt to shield them from her spite.

“If you think I will allow the fact that today is Christmas to prevent me from punishing you for your abhorrent behavior, you are sadly mistaken. You are not welcome here, not after one of you”—she pointed to Jeremy and Richard—“wreaked such havoc yesterday.”

“We did our duties as you asked, Aunt. You can have no reason to complain, nor any reason to bar us from celebrating Christmas with you.” Gabriel stood tall, glaring at his aunt.

“No reason? One of your worthless brothers broke a priceless china cup while dusting yesterday. And did he have the courage to tell me?” She stood with her hands on her hips, glaring at them. She attempted to reach for Richard and Jeremy, but Gabriel blocked her movement.

“Jer? Rich?” Gabriel asked.

“I’m sorry, Gabe,” Jeremy whispered. “I didn’t mean to.”

“He’s sorry, Aunt.” Gabriel met his aunt’s glare with one equally as fierce.

“
Sorry
won’t allow me to serve my important guests in the manner in which they are accustomed, young man. Your brother has seen to that.” She took a deep breath. “Now, for your penance, you will have no Christmas dinner with us, and your gifts will be given to children who are in greater need of them than you.”

“He’s nine, Aunt,” Richard protested.

“That’s not fair, and you know it. My brother made a mistake because you’re having him do work he’s never been trained to do,” Gabriel said at nearly the same time. He watched his aunt’s calculating glance and was filled with impotent rage.

“Well, at least now my family is spared the indignity of your presence on this wondrous day.” She nodded toward the staircase, used only by the servants and turned away from them, effectively dismissing them.

Gabriel spun, grabbed his brothers’ arms and stormed away, down the stairs to their small room.

He slammed shut their door and faced Jeremy, who lay huddled on his cot. Gabriel’s ire leeched from him as he beheld his youngest brother’s misery. “Why didn’t you tell me, Jer?” He moved toward him, rubbing his hand over Jeremy’s head.

Jeremy burrowed into Gabriel’s side, sniffling as he fought tears. “I hid it so she wouldn’t see it ’til after Christmas.”

“You hoped we’d be able to eat the big meal and get our gifts before she meted out her punishment.” Gabriel continued to stroke Jeremy’s head, imparting comfort.

Richard sat on his bed with a thunk. “She never meant for us to celebrate with them. If you hadn’t broken that worthless teacup, she would’ve found another reason.”

“I can’t imagine her agreeing to have us at her table,” Gabriel said in a voice laced with bitterness.

“Does this mean we don’t eat all day?” Jeremy asked.

“In her mind, yes. But I’ll find us some food,” Gabriel said. “I just wish Mrs. Thynne wasn’t away for the holiday. Her replacement isn’t nearly as nice.” He patted Jeremy once more then scooted away. He nodded to Richard as he moved to comfort Jeremy.

Gabriel creaked open the door a sliver and saw no one in the kitchen area. He skulked along the hallway, up the stairs and hid in a deep doorway, until he saw that the maids were busy in the parlor attending the family. He raced into the dining room, grabbing two large linen napkins and piling sweet breads in the first. In the second, he stuffed slabs of ham and chicken. He grabbed the two bulging napkins, scampering to his hideaway in the deep doorway as footsteps approached the dining room.

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 their 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.”