Howls and Hallows: A Steampunk Fairy Tale (Steampunk Red Riding Hood Book 5)

by Melanie Karsak

  “This is Emma,” Harper said, introducing the maid who dropped a curtsey. “I told her we didn’t need any help, but she insisted.”

  “Agent Harper is just being kind, but Lady Charlotte told Missus Carroll to send me up. I’m almost done with Agent Harper. I can assist you next, Agent Louvel. I dare say, we’ve never had any agents of Her Majesty’s Red Capes here except Sir Edwin. How exciting.”

  “Does Sir Edwin dine here often?” I asked.

  “Not much recently, but in earlier years, yes. He and Sir Edison get along quite well.”

  “And Lady Charlotte, did she get along with Sir Edwin quite well too?” Harper asked, sparing me the embarrassment of being overly nosey about Edwin’s past.

  “The three are always very merry in one another’s company. The late Lady Cabell liked Sir Edwin very much. And Sir Edwin’s godmother, Lady Chadwick, often comes to visit.”

  Godmother?

  “I see,” Harper said, giving me a knowing look.

  “But I don’t remember seeing Sir Edwin here since the last ball,” the maid mused as she finished the last lace on Harper’s gown.

  I suddenly felt like I was sinking into the fen. So, Sir Edwin and Lady Charlotte had a bit of history. I suspected as much. After all, he was Sir Edwin, and she was Lady Charlotte. Of course, they’d consider a match if the families liked one another, especially this mysterious godmother whom Edwin never bothered to mention.

  I suddenly felt very annoyed with Edwin.

  My eyes flicked to the red dress once more. Again, the image of Lionheart looking up at me from under that lock of blond hair crossed my mind, my stomach twisting with the memory of him.

  Hell’s bells. Was he ever going to come back? I needed him to just come back already.

  “There you are, Agent Harper,” the maid said as she tied the last lace on Harper’s dress. “Do you need anything else?”

  Harper gave the dress a spin. “Well, what do you think?” she asked me.

  “Fetching,” I said with a smile. In truth, she looked very pretty. The purple gown, trimmed with black lace and lovely beadwork, made Harper’s eyes sparkle

  “Good. I spent a month’s salary buying two dresses just to come here. I didn’t want to embarrass myself,” Harper said with a laugh that the maid and I both joined.

  “They meet in the parlor before dinner if you’d like to do down while I dress Agent Louvel,” Emma said.

  Harper nodded. “Shall I go warm them up?”

  “Please.”

  Harper nodded to me then headed out.

  I turned to the maid. “Well, let’s see what you can do to make this one-eyed pirate presentable.”

  “How did you—if you don’t mind me asking—how did it happen?” she asked, casting a glance at my mooneye.

  “I got into a tangle with a wolf.”

  The girl laughed, but when she saw my sincere expression, she paused. “Seriously?”

  “Yes. Seriously.”

  “That’s horrifying.”

  “It certainly was. But I got the better of him in the end.”

  “You’re so brave, Agent Louvel.”

  “Maybe. But I’d rather go fight another wolf than go downstairs for dinner.”

  The girl giggled. “Lord Edison is very kind. Never mind Lady Charlotte. She’s all bluster and show, just like her mother was before her.”

  I gave the girl a knowing wink then started to strip off my armor. It was going to be a very long night.

  * * *

  Finally looking somewhat presentable, I headed to the parlor. The maid had pulled up my hair, affixing it with the small butterfly pin Grand-mère had sent. The little pin, which was clockwork in design, worked in such a manner that the wings wagged gently up and down. It looked a little like I was going around with a bug in my hair, but Grand-mère insisted it was fashionable. So there I was, in my Christmas gown with a torn hem and a burn on the sleeve, in October, with a bug on my head, about to have dinner with the fashionable Lady Charlotte.

  A footman opened the door for me, and I entered to find Lord Cabell, Lady Charlotte, Harper, and an older gentleman I didn’t recognize waiting for me.

  “Ah, Agent Louvel. Very good. We were worried about you,” Lady Charlotte said. “It’s nearly time to go in.”

  “My apologies. I returned from the fens a bit late.”

  Lady Charlotte smiled, but I saw lines of annoyance around her eyes. “No matter. May I present our nearest neighbor, Lord Samson? We invited him to dine tonight.”

  I inclined my head to the man. From his elegant manner and the way he was looking down his nose at me, I could tell he was a man of means and title. “Sir.”

  “Agent Louvel, was it?” he asked, the snobbery in his voice as thick as gravy.

  “Yes, sir.”

  He shrugged, raising and lowering his brows in the process. “Two lady agents. Well, Edison, can’t be much to worry about if they’ve sent two ladies along to investigate.”

  “Sir Edwin tells me they are the best on his team,” Lord Cabell said, smiling apologetically toward Harper and me.

  “Indeed? Well, if he says so, but Sir Edwin has always been something of an odd duck,” he said then turned to Lady Charlotte. “How lovely you look tonight, my dear.”

  I gave Lady Charlotte a once-over. She was wearing a chocolate-colored gown with elegant beading and lace. The gold, silver, and bronze-toned beads on her bodice were sewn in the shape of leaves. She wore a small comb with golden oak leaves in her hair.

  “Why thank you, Lord Samson,” she said, smoothing down the front of her gown. “It’s nothing.”

  Nothing. Just perfectly in line with the season and of the latest fashion. Nothing at all.

  “Dinner is served,” Frances, the butler called from the door, motioning for us to adjourn to the dining room.

  “Ladies,” Lord Cabell said, extending his arm to Harper. He led her from the parlor, the pair walking just ahead of me. A moment later, I heard Lord Cabell say, “You’re looking very lovely tonight, Agent Harper.”

  “Oh,” Harper said as though she’d been caught off guard. “Um. Thank you.”

  The rest of their conversation was drowned out by the sound of Lady Charlotte complaining to Lord Samson as they walked behind me.

  “It’s such a disruption to the ball preparations, but it can’t be helped, I suppose,” she said, sounding exasperated.

  “Have they found anything at all?” Lord Samson asked.

  “Not yet.”

  Lord Samson harrumphed.

  “I know, I know,” Lady Charlotte said then sighed. “Hopefully Mister Aaron finds whatever it is out there prowling about and just shoots the bloody thing.”

  “No doubt he will. I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about.”

  “Yes, well, we shall see what the agents discover,” she said. And while she was behind me, I could practically hear her roll her eyes.

  “There, there,” Sir Samson said sympathetically.

  Lady Charlotte giggled lightly.

  Yep, definitely disliked Lady Charlotte. Most definitely.

  “Oh! Agent Louvel, hold a moment, my dear. I think you brought in something from outside with you. Is there something in your hair?” Lady Charlotte asked, gently taking my arm.

  I paused, turning to her. “Sorry?”

  “I think… Is that an insect?” she asked, reaching toward the pin.

  I lifted my hand to my hair. “It’s… Oh. No. It’s a clockwork butterfly.”

  Lady Charlotte pulled her hand back and stared. “Oh, yes, I see now. Heavens. That’s very…whimsical.

  “Indeed it is, indeed it is,” Lord Samson agreed.

  “Charlotte?” Edison asked. “Anything the matter?”

  “No, no. False alarm,” Lady Charlotte said. When she let me go, I saw her eyes dance over the sleeve of my gown, noticing the burn stain thereon. For a brief moment, she wrinkled up her nose, but her better breeding made her catch herself, and she forced on
a smile. “My mistake. Let’s go in.”

  My emotions swishing from rage to humiliation, I turned from her and headed into the elegant dining room.

  Yep, definitely hated Lady Charlotte.

  Chapter 12: At Least She Knows it’s not a Dinglehopper

  While I’d been exposed to many gruesome ways to die—sucked dry by a vampire, throat chewed out by a werewolf, spooked to death by a spirit, and even cursed by fairy magic—I never knew death by dinner party was a possibility.

  I stayed quiet, enjoying the sumptuous meal—mutton, fish, rabbit, truffles, and more wine than I had any business drinking—listening to Lord Samson and Lady Charlotte talk for an hour about almost nothing while Harper and Lord Cabell discovered a shared interest in farming, clockwork windmills, and a taste for travel abroad. As I ate, I gazed around the fancy dining room, taking in the elaborate candelabras, the table dressed with grape vines and coordinated purple and green flowers, and watched the footman as they worked, wondering for the first time whether or not any of the fleet of servants happened to have six fingers. Like ghosts prowling along the edges of the seen world, the staff had made themselves so invisible I’d forgotten to even question them.

  Rookie mistake.

  “You’re lost in thought, Agent Louvel,” Lord Cabell said. “I’m afraid we’re odd-numbered tonight. I’m sorry we’ve left you in want of a dinner partner.”

  I choked down a chuckle. Dinner partner. How absurd. “Not at all. I was just thinking through the case. Would you mind if I question the servants after dinner?”

  “The servants?” Lady Charlotte asked.

  “No cause for alarm, Lady Charlotte. I just wanted to see if they have seen or heard anything.”

  “Of course,” Lord Cabell said then turned to the butler. “Frances, can you ask the servants to stay in the hall after their dinner?”

  I looked at Frances, a dignified man with white hair and perfect posture.

  He coughed lightly, swallowing any misgivings he had, and said, “Of course, sir.”

  “Lord Samson,” Harper said, turning her attention to the gentleman. “Lord Cabell tells me your property touches the Cabell estate.”

  “So it does.”

  “And have you ever had any troubles on your property?”

  “No,” Lord Samson said with a shake of the head. “Thank heavens, no. But the Samsons were not involved in that matter back in the sixteenth century.”

  “Thus, not cursed,” Lord Cabell said, his tone a bit darker than I expected.

  “Are any standing stones on your property?”

  Sir Samson thought for a moment. “There was a ring of stones out there at one time, but they were pulled down and incorporated into the foundation of the village church.”

  “How very heathen. I’m surprised it was permitted,” Lady Charlotte said, sipping her wine.

  “Heathen, but practical,” Lord Samson said with a laugh. “Cabell Manor is a bit more rural than Granfield Place. Our estate is quiet—dreadfully quiet—which is why my wife and daughter are both in London.”

  “But they’ll be back in time for the ball?” Lady Charlotte asked.

  “Of course, of course.”

  “Didn’t you have some trouble a few years back, though?” Lord Cabell asked. “Someone poaching on the property?”

  “Oh yes. There was that. The poaching. For a stretch of time, six or seven years back, someone was poaching my sheep. But my tenant saw to that. He and some of the lads removed some vagabonds from an unused farmstead. Nothing occult about it. Simple vagrants.”

  Harper nodded. “About seven year ago?”

  “Yes. From what I remember, the trouble went on for a bit until we found the culprits.”

  “And when they were found, did they go quietly?” Harper asked.

  “Indeed they did. And all the better for them. I was going to have them all arrested, but they were gone before we came around with the local law.”

  “That’s a relief. Luckily, we’ve never had any vagrants here, so to speak,” Lady Charlotte said.

  “No, just howling hellhounds.”

  “Edison, don’t be so morbid. Ah, here is the pudding,” Lady Charlotte said, clapping her hands together as a footman arrived with a truly delicious looking confection.

  I was following a train of thought, my mind puzzling over Lady Charlotte’s choice of words—we’ve never had any vagrants here, so to speak—when the dessert arrived. The sight of cherries and icing on the delicious looking pudding made whatever I was chasing vanish in a puff.

  When the footman set my dessert plate in front of me, I felt happy for the first time since the dinner began—despite the pudding’s disappointing portion size. I slid my spoon into the dessert then took a massive bite, clearing half the plate in the process. The tastes of sugar, molasses, and spice lingered on my tongue. And in that moment, I didn’t even care that Lady Charlotte had tried to embarrass me. Nothing sweeter had ever met my lips.

  Well, maybe, save a kiss.

  Chapter 13: Meanwhile, Downstairs

  After dinner, Lord Samson and Lord Cabell went off for cigars and brandy. Harper, bless her, went with Lady Charlotte for a digestif, and I escaped with Frances the butler down the back stairs to the servants’ hall. For the first time since I’d arrived, I heard genuinely happy laughter in the house.

  “Busy place,” I commented to Mister Frances.

  Maids and footmen rushed up and down the hallway.

  “With the ball coming, we’re all hard at work preparing the rooms, the ballroom, the décor, the food… It takes days to prepare for just one night.”

  I passed a workroom where a maid was busy arranging bouquets. The valet and a footman were in the next room ironing and mending clothes. In a third room, two young lads were busy hollowing out pumpkins and gourds and carving the faces of jack-o-lanterns. Mister Frances led me to the servants’ dining room at the very back of the house.

  “One moment,” he said then rang a chime summoning the servants to the room.

  The servants’ section quieted, and a few moments later, the servants entered their dining hall, all of them eyeing me skeptically.

  There were twelve servants in all. Mister Aaron was missing, but I already knew his story. Niles, the sympathetic footman, was there, as was Emma, the young maid who’d attended Harper and me. The servants whispered to one another as they cast suspicious glances at me.

  “Sorry to disrupt your work. This is Agent Louvel of Her Majesty’s…” Lawrence began then trailed off, at a loss for words.

  “Of Her Majesty’s Red Cape Society,” I finished for him. “I have just a few questions, if you don’t mind.”

  “What about?” a younger, blond-haired footman asked.

  “Don’t get fresh, Bryant. Agent Louvel is here investigating the odd noises in the fen,” Mister Frances answered.

  “The curse,” one of the kitchen maids whispered, her eyes wide.

  I nodded. “Yes, the curse. I was wondering if any of you have heard the strange sounds in the fen at night?”

  They all looked at one another cautiously then nodded—all of them.

  “Have any of you ever seen anything?” I asked.

  The head cook, a sweating woman in an apron, crossed herself. “Heavens, no.”

  I looked at the others, meeting each of their gazes in turn. As I scanned them, I focused with my mooneye, looking for any tremor or glow. The ones who met my eyes looked scared, staring at my scarred face and me suspiciously. The others quickly met my eyes then looked nervously away.

  “Heard, yes. Seen, no,” Bryant, the outspoken footman, said looking around at the others who nodded in agreement.

  “So no one has seen anything?” I asked.

  Everyone shook their heads.

  “Is this all the staff?” I asked Mister Frances.

  “There is Mister Marrow, the gardener, but he’s gone to bed already. Save Mister Aaron, whom you met this morning, yes.”

  “I
have an odd request. Please forgive me. As you can guess, in my line of work, we are prone to ask unusual questions. But, if you please, would you all mind holding out your hands—no gloves—for a brief inspection?”

  “What for?” Bryant asked.

  “Silence, Bryant,” Lawrence said, scolding the boy. “Please do as Agent Louvel requests.”

  Now, more nervous than ever, all the servants held out their hands in front of them.

  I took a deep breath then made my way around the room. One of them could easily be a shifter. If they were good at the game, they could have learned how to hide it. A witch, in the nineteenth-century sense of the word, would be almost impossible to detect. I didn’t get the feeling that any practitioners of black magic were present, and I didn’t feel the tell-tale signs that one of the preternatural was in our midst, but there was something here. I felt something…odd. Someone’s gaze carried the heaviness of magic. Someone in the room knew something that they weren’t telling.

  “Beg your pardon, m’lady, I’ve been cooking all day,” the kitchen maid said when I glanced over her flour-covered hands.

  I smiled at her. “Please, no ‘m’lady’ needed here. Did you happen to make the pudding tonight?”

  The girl beamed a smile at me. “I did. Did you like it?”

  Ten fingers.

  “It was perfect,” I said with a smile. “Wouldn’t happen to have any left, would you?”

  “We do. Emma can bring you an extra plate,” the girl said with a grin.

  “With a normal person’s sized serving this time,” I said with a laugh.

  The others chuckled, and I felt some of the tension in the room lift.

  “If you liked that, wait until the ball,” the head cook, who was standing just beside the girl, told me.

  “I can hardly wait. I admit I have a weakness for sweets,” I said with a smile as I glanced over her hands.

  Ten fingers.

  “Well, there are worse vices in the world,” Bryant, who was standing beside to cook, told me.

  “Indeed?” I asked with a playful smile.