Realms of Fire

by Sharon K Gilbert

  “Generally, when I fire a weapon, it’s at fleeing criminals,” he teased her. “But there’s a shoot arranged for Boxing Day. We can see how she does with shotgun noise.”

  Drina nodded. “It’s never too early to start. If you raise them round guns, they’ll be all right.”

  “Is she really mine?” the girl asked again, cuddling the wriggly puppy joyfully.

  “All yours, but she’ll need a name.”

  “Oh yes!” Adele exclaimed. “I’ll have to think about that. Names are very important, you know.”

  “And you’ll have to train her to be careful indoors. Bella will help, won’t you, girl?” said Elizabeth.

  The Labrador kept nosing Della’s hand until she set the puppy on the floor. Immediately, the older dog took the tiny pup into her soft mouth and carried it from the room and towards the main entry.

  Beth laughed. “Bella’s either trying to get rid of the competition or else wants to take her outside for a lesson.”

  “I can take them both outdoors, my lady,” offered Priest, climbing down from the ladder.

  “Don’t go too far, Mr. Priest,” the duke called to the departing servant. “We don’t want Della’s present to disappear into a snow drift!”

  Adele shut the basket and set it before the bright fire. “We’re still finishing the tree, Auntie Drina. Perhaps, you can help.”

  “I’d be happy to, so long as I’m not required to climb that ladder. I fear my limbs aren’t what they once were.”

  “Shouldn’t we wait for Grandfather and the others?” asked the duchess. “Some of the ornaments are from Drummond castle, and he likes to hang them.”

  “What of Mr. Blinkmire and Count Riga?” Adele sang back. “Didn’t they come with you, Cousin Charles?”

  “They’re in the second train with Baxter and your Uncle James,” Charles explained. “Also, there’s a surprise guest. And I should probably explain her to my wife.”

  “Explain her?” Beth asked warily.

  “It’s Cordelia, dear,” he whispered. “She has nowhere else to go. It’s a long story, which is better told upstairs, but I’ve asked Kay to prepare rooms for her. She’s in a very bad way. I’ll want Henry to look at her right away.”

  “A bad way? Has her depression worsened?”

  “Yes, but there are other factors as well. I’ll tell you upstairs,” Charles answered softly. “As for the remainder of the night, I am at your disposal, little one. I’ve left all police work behind until next week. Tonight, we shall have laughter and music and Mrs. Stephen’s fruit cake. Count Riga’s brought his cello and a selection of special music, but we’ll need a singer. If only we knew someone,” he added with a wink at Della.

  Adele jumped to her feet. “I can sing, Cousin Charles! And I can also play accompaniment for the count, if he needs it. He and I’ve practised lots of songs together. But you didn’t mention Mr. Merrick. He is still coming, I hope?”

  “He is, and tomorrow we’ll have a chess tournament. Now, why do I see eggs at Christmas?”

  “I was just asking the same thing,” Adele replied. “They are quite beautiful, and they’re Russian. The tsar sends them to entice Cousin Beth.”

  Charles glanced at his wife. “A tsar plies you with golden treasures as enticement?”

  Beth laughed. “Not in that way, Captain! Tsar Alexander sends them to demonstrate his friendship. If enticement was involved, it had to do with his son, not himself.”

  “You and Nicholas?” asked the queen. “Never. He’s far too timid for Elizabeth’s temperament. Charles is a much better match for you, my dear.” She placed a pair of thick spectacles on her nose and waved her stout arms, motioning to the child. “Bring that largest egg to me, dear. Let me see it.”

  Della complied, and the visitor took the jewelled egg, turning it round slowly in her arthritic hands. “It’s exquisite, isn’t it? May I open it?”

  “Of course,” answered the duchess. “There’s always a surprise inside. Last year’s included a replica of a royal coach. You know, I just realised it’s like the one we rode in for the ball, Charles. Do you remember? The night before our wedding.”

  “Prince Anatole’s coach?”

  “Yes. See if that egg’s in the box, Della. It has blue and red enamel on the outside with golden doors.”

  The eleven-year-old fetched the remaining eggs. At the same time, Stephen Priest returned, covered in snow, holding the puppy inside his livery coat.

  “She dutifully did her business, my lady,” he told the duchess. “Bella served as teacher. I think she’s adopted the puppy as her own.”

  Della took the chilled spaniel to the fire and placed it inside the basket. “What a good little pup you are! Look, Auntie Drina, Bella’s licking her to warm her up! Shall I put the blanket down on the rug, so Bella can act as mother?”

  “The pup’s already weaned, dear, if that’s what you’re thinking,” the queen told her.

  “Bella’s had two litters of her own, so I expect this is old hat to her,” added Elizabeth. “And there’s another litter due in a few weeks.”

  “Really?” asked Charles. “I thought Bella seemed a bit stouter these days.”

  “It’s what comes of letting Briar keep so close,” she told her husband. “Ordinarily, he lives with our gamekeeper. I’ll be pleased to have more puppies from their two lines. Both are such good dogs. Briar’s the finest hunter in the county. Now, let’s see about this tree. Oh, Mr. Priest, do be careful up there! Make sure your boots aren’t still wet!”

  “I’m quite safe, my lady,” the underbutler said as he climbed the stepladder. He carried three strings of glass beads, winding them round and round the graceful branches, to add sparks of gold, red, and silver to the green boughs

  “It’s a beautiful tree, Mr. Priest. You and Troughton have done a wonderful job. This may be the best tree yet,” the duchess told him.

  “Mr. Powers chose a fine tree indeed, my lady,” Priest concurred. “It’s a little fuller than last year’s. Though, last year’s was taller.”

  Elizabeth gazed at the tree fondly. “Last year’s tree was precariously placed for a room filled with revelers. Lord Aubrey nearly fell into it as I recall. Della, do you remember that?”

  Laughing, the girl returned to her chair. “My poor brother tripped over a toy train! We mustn’t remind him, though. Paul’s sensitive about such things. But Uncle James drank so much eggnog that he started singing sea shanties. Do you remember, Cousin Beth?”

  “James often digresses into song at Christmas time,” noted Lady Stuart wistfully. “When he and I were young, he had a magnificent baritone voice. He’d regale all the court with some very curious lyrics. My mother nearly fainted from shock, but I thought it all quite amusing.”

  “You knew Uncle James when he was young?” asked Adele.

  “Oh, yes. Your uncle and I’ve been friends since we were your age. I very nearly married him, you know.”

  “Really?” she asked in amazement. “Would he have been king, then?”

  “Quite likely,” Drina replied. “But then royal blood flows in your family’s veins. Doesn’t it, Charles?”

  Sinclair gave no reply, merely offered her a smile in return.

  Oblivious to the subtle hint, Adele decided to uncover more ornaments and squealed in delight when she reached the bottom of the crate. “A stereo viewer! I have one of these at Briarcliff! Are there any photographs to go with it, Cousin Beth?”

  “Quite a few. They should all be in the same crate,” the duchess answered. “My father loved stereo photographs, Charles. On birthdays and other special occasions, he’d always hire a professional to make them. Eventually, he bought a stereo camera of his own.”

  “Allow me, Lady Della,” Priest said as he descended the ladder. “I believe the photographs are in this box.” Using a prise bar, the
underbutler opened the last crate.

  Della eagerly dug into the box, beholding treasures galore: two albums of stereo photographs, a silver whistle, a board game, chess set with ivory and ebony men carved in medieval dress, a stack of Christmas postcards tied with red ribbon, a jack-in-the-box painted with elephants, zebras and tigers; and a hinged tin container filled with metal discs painted with marching soldiers, dancing ballerinas, and running animals.

  “Oh, this is filled with all sorts of treasure!” declared the youngster as she brought several of the items to Elizabeth. “I found the stereo photos, but I’m not sure what these are.” Adele handed her the tin of painted discs.

  “I’d forgotten all about these,” Beth said happily, showing the queen. “Did you ever own a phenakistiscope, Auntie Drina? These are the discs. I’m not at all sure where the device might be, though.”

  “What’s a phena-kiss-ta...?”

  “Phenakistiscope,” her cousin finished. “You place these painted discs into it, and once the key is wound, the device spins to make the pictures appear to move. Rather like a zoetrope. This set belonged to my father. Connor Stuart was your first cousin, Della.” Elizabeth didn’t bother to add ‘once removed’, since Adele had no idea she was Paul’s daughter, not his sister.

  “I never met Cousin Connor, but his portraits look quite handsome,” the innocent girl answered. “Do you miss him, Cousin Beth?”

  “Every day, darling. Just as Auntie Drina misses her dear husband. But such an earthly parting is only temporary, is it not?”

  “Indeed, it is, my dear. It is ever my hope and prayer to see my darling husband again,” answered the queen wistfully, not speaking his name to keep her disguise intact. The much-missed Prince Albert.

  Charles thought of his own Albert, and how lonely and grief-stricken that Christmas in ’78 had been following his son’s sudden death. “So it is,” he whispered, tightening his grip on Beth’s hand. “Now, let’s have a look through these photographs.”

  Della smiled in delight. “It may take a while, Cousin Charles. There are hundreds of them. I wonder, might Auntie Drina be in any of them?”

  The queen laughed as her dog leapt onto her lap once more. The new puppy had fallen asleep next to Bella on the rug. “It looks as though Dumpling wants to see the photos, too. It’s a shame we can’t all look at them at once. One of James’s inventors should create a device that displays stereo pictures to an entire room, don’t you think?”

  Jack Troughton returned with a wooden trolley filled with tea, coffee, lemonade, and cakes.

  “Our refreshments have arrived and just in time,” said Sinclair. “And you’re absolutely right, Drina. My uncle should underwrite such an invention, but knowing James, he may have already done it. Troughton, what time is supper tonight?”

  “Not until nine, sir, but Mrs. Stephens has prepared something quite special to make up for it. For the present, she’s sent along hearty sandwiches and sweets to compensate.”

  “Thank you, Troughton,” Beth whispered. “We’ll help ourselves. I believe Mr. Priest requires your attention. It looks to me as though this last string of beads has challenged his untangling abilities. Della, why don’t you pour tea for our guest, whilst I look through these photographs to see if any include Auntie Drina?”

  “I should be in several,” the queen reminisced. “I remember one year when your father took all sorts of those stereo pictures, Elizabeth.” She reached for the tray to take two small sandwiches and a jam tart. “No milk in mine, dear. Just sugar. Three cubes.”

  Della served while the duchess sorted through the pictures.

  “Where’s Paul, Adele?” asked Charles after biting into a cheese and cress sandwich. “I thought he’d meet us at the village station.”

  “With Dr. Holloway. Cousin Henry is up there, too. Oh, and Aunt Victoria said that she and Dolly will be down shortly. They’re wrapping gifts, and I think some are for me, because they shooed me from the room. You’re certain Mr. Merrick is really coming?”

  “He is really coming,” the duke assured her. “In fact, they should have arrived by now. I hope the second train wasn’t delayed getting out of London. Victoria Station was terribly crowded. All the ministers were heading home to their country estates.”

  “Which train did you take? Paul’s or your new one?” asked Beth.

  “You knew about that?” her husband asked.

  “Of course, I did. Do you really think my grandfather designed it all? I had a hand in making sure it matched all your needs. I hope you like it, darling.”

  He kissed her cheek. “The Captain Nemo Special will provide a mobile theatre of operations for the ICI, but also a pleasure train for us to use one day. Perhaps, we can take it to Carlisle and spend a week at Rose House.”

  “I’d like that,” she whispered lovingly. “Wait, I think I hear a coach! Look out the window, Della, and see if I’m right.”

  The youngster dashed to the window, her posture eager as she peered through the frosty panes. “It is! There are four large coaches, and Uncle James is getting out of one! Oh, they’re here, Beth! They’re here!”

  She ran from the room, through the foyer, towards the front door, already opened by Kay. Cornelius Baxter led the way up the broad steps, his arm round Cordelia Wychwright as he tenderly aided her through the snow and ice. Close behind was Duke James, talking happily with Blinkmire and Riga. Next came Elbert Stanley, David Anderson, and Joseph Merrick. Two footmen kept close to either side of Merrick, making sure his halting progress never faltered upon the snowy gravel or up the portico steps.

  Once everyone had safely entered and removed their coats, hats, and gloves, Drummond took control. “Now, let’s get all our guests settled, and then we can begin our celebration. Princess, where have you put us?”

  “Kay and Baxter arranged it all,” she told her grandfather standing beside Sinclair in the foyer. “My dear Mr. Merrick, it’s lovely to see you again. And our clever Count Riga and the gallant Mr. Blinkmire. We’re honoured to have you with us for Christmas. Mr. Stanley, I believe you and Mr. Anderson are sharing an apartment. There’s a lift, Mr. Merrick. No need for stairs! Cordelia, I’m so glad you could join us,” she told the pale young woman. “The rail trip from London can be very tiring. Would you care to lie down before supper? Kay, would you ask one of your men to see Lady Cordelia to the west wing? She’ll want to be close to the earl, I should think. The Anjou Suite is vacant. Oh, and ask Ada MacKenzie to fetch a dressing gown and slippers from my closet for our guest, in case she needs them. It doesn’t matter which.”

  “Very good, my lady.” Kay motioned to a young man with prematurely silver hair and bright blue eyes. “Stafford, will you escort Lady Cordelia to the Anjou Suite?”

  By seven, the foyer had emptied; whilst upstairs, footmen and lady’s maids helped guests to unpack. The main floor of the great mansion grew still. It was an eerie sort of silence that seldom happened in the centuries-old home. Unseen and unheard, ghosts patrolled the second east wing, climbing up and down the wooden maze staircase, and inside the upper gallery. The painted eyes of a hundred portraits stared, mutely observing the living inhabitants, as though waiting for something to happen.

  And above it all, upon the highest chimney of the great house, a white owl kept watch, its ice blue eyes fixed upon the horizon.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  10:29 pm – The Branham Music Room

  Supper that night featured a broad selection of Lady Stuart’s favorite foods: roast lamb with rosemary and thyme, pork shoulder in apple sauce, boiled haddock in dilled cream, and three types of potatoes. Raspberry tarts topped with cream satisfied her sweet tooth, and mulled wine allowed the sovereign to grow quite cheerful as the evening wore on. Now, as the family gathered for an hour of music, Lady Alexandrina Stuart looked as though she could drift off to sleep at any moment. Elizabeth took the chair beside the q
ueen, joined by a quartet of adult dogs: Briar, Bella, Samson, and the newcomer Dumpling.

  “It’s beginning to look a bit like a kennel round here,” she laughed as Adele brought her new puppy to the cheerful fire. “If she’s cold, there’s a blanket in the willow basket next to the grandfather clock, Della. Have you given her a name yet?”

  “Not yet,” the girl answered as she draped a Stuart tartan blanket over the animal. “Names are very important. She’ll live a long time with her name, so I want to make sure it’s the right one. Will we open the presents on Christmas morning? Cousin Charles says he’s bought me something quite nice, but I didn’t see it beneath the tree.”

  “We’ve not added our gifts yet,” the duchess answered. “Oh, it’s been a long day! A long, wonderful day; hasn’t it, Drina?”

  “Oh yes,” replied the queen. “Tell me, how is young Seth doing?”

  “Better, so says Henry,” answered Elizabeth. “I apologise for all the activity, Auntie Drina. It never used to be this busy, when I was a girl.”

  “It only seemed less busy because you were just a child, my dear,” the queen admonished. “Adults view the world far differently than children. I’ve spent many holidays here at the hall, and it’s nearly always busy—but a lovely sort of busy. One of my favourites was the spring of ’75. The famous Branham fête! The theme that year was Egypt, and the grounds were filled with people in costume, and there were mummies and dancers and all sorts of games. And your mother played the role of Cleopatra to your father’s Marc Antony. Do you remember it, Beth? Your father’d just come home, and everyone was here. Robby and Angie Sinclair, Rob and Abigail Stuart—oh, Della, your late father was a handsome man. When I was young and a mere slip of a thing, I used to dance and dance with the Stuart cousins.”

  “The Stuart cousins? Do you mean my father and Uncle James?” asked Della. “When was this, Auntie Drina?”

  “Yes, James and Robert. I was sixteen, when I attended my first ball here at Branham. Everyone was there! What a glorious night it was! The late earl was five years older than I, and he outshone every other man on the dance floor. None of you knew Rob Stuart in his youth, but he was a fine figure of a man. You know, Charles has a similar bearing and physique. It’s that Stuart blood, I imagine. True royalty will always show itself.”