With that he backed slowly from the room, his head held high, his pale eyes resembling those of a stuffed tiger’s head I had seen in the British Museum.
The Queen turned to Florence. “Do excuse my Uncle’s behavior. Women are forced to tolerate much even after we have proven ourselves. I am certain you agree.”
“I understand, Your Highness,” Florence nodded as she bit her bottom lip.
Once Lord Cumberland had stamped from the room, the Queen turned to Lord Melbourne. “Please see to my Uncle before you leave in the morning.” It was clear she was upset over his intrusion and embarrassed that he dared take her to task at all, let alone in front of guests.
Queen Victoria stood to leave without tasting her dessert. Accordingly, we all rose for if the Queen left, we must all leave the table. I looked down at my plate longingly. The chunk of cake smothered in chocolate sauce looked back at me. It was unrequited love.
From the corner of my eyes, I caught sight of Granny swiping the cake with one finger. She came away with a gob of chocolate, which she popped into her mouth. My grandmother was surely a lady of great experience who knew how to leave her cake and eat it, too.
Chapter 11
Since my intention was to allow Florence time to recover from dinner, I thought to sit at the desk in my room and make use of the pen and inkwell provided in order to bring my journal up to date. The adventure was about to begin! Actually, it had already begun for I had just dined with the Queen! Who in my social set could boast of such a thing? I thought to draft a letter to my parents, but no, let them wonder. Gossip would reach Milton-on-the-Marsh sooner than any correspondence I might send.
Instructing the maid to return in an hour as I wished for time alone, I had just begun to write the first few lines in the journal when there came a soft rapping at my door.
I blotted the page and left the desk assuming it was Florence because Granny had access from the adjoining room. My mouth fell open and my hand flew to my chest when I saw the footman who had aided me in my moments of clumsiness standing there, bearing a small tray with a cloth peaked over the top. There was a merry twinkle in his blue eyes, and a half smile on his lips. “Forgive my boldness, Miss Throckmorten, but I believe you forgot this.”
Removing the tent, I was amazed to see the cake I was forced to leave on the table.
“Such a kindness!” What more could I properly say to a servant? “Thank you.”
He clicked his heels, gave me a mischievous grin, and was gone. I carried the tray back to the writing desk. My journal entries were that much sweeter as I scooped the chocolate with one finger while I wrote of the day’s events.
After careful consideration I thought it prudent not to write about the fortune we would receive from Mr. Averoff for if a highwayman should somehow get hold of my book, he might plan some thievery. I have learned to take care about what I included in my diary.
Three pages were filled with tight lines recounting the day, when I thought to look at the clock. I had not allowed myself very much time to spend with Florence. I blotted the last page, and put the journal in the pocket of my skirt. I listened at the door between my room and Granny’s. She was snoring lightly. Good.
I slipped from the room, sliding in my still buttery slippers, and worked my way to Florence’s room. I knocked tentatively and the door opened. My friend had changed to her sleeping clothes but seemed wide-awake. She carried her book on anatomy, something she was almost never without. I marveled that she had taken it on our journey, for she must have known it by heart.
“What took you so long?” she asked, cocking her head. She beckoned me to enter. Had the room been larger she would have been able to swagger as she led me to a small sitting area near an unlit fireplace.
Adjusting my bell-shaped skirt, I took a seat and waited for her to speak. She took the other chair and clasped her chin in her hand as if deep in thought. “There is the suspicious part of me that doubts this can really be happening. I am not about to question Mr. George Averoff’s motives, but I want this so much that I can’t help but worry.”
She sat up grasping the arms of the chair. “Poppy, I am certain God works in mysterious ways. There is nothing this man could want from me, and he comes with our Queen’s highest regards, so it must be real. Right?” She had the strangest expression on her face; it took me a bit to realize that the unperturbed Miss Nightingale was for the first time, perturbed.
“Tell me what concerns you,” I said.
“First wipe that chocolate off your lips. I won’t ask how you came to snitch the cake, just remember where we are. If Lord Cumberland were the monarch he would easily throw you in the Black Tower for stealing cake.”
“I didn’t steal it.”
“Oh dear Poppy I am teasing you. But let us get serious for a moment. We have a responsibility to the Queen for it seems she has a wolf watching her every action, eager to bring her down. Can you guess who might replace her if she were removed from the throne?”
“No one can remove her. She is the Queen!” The very idea upset me, as Victoria had become my second lady heroine.
“There are politics afoot!” Florence announced, raising her index finger in the air to make a point. “Our beloved Queen has out-maneuvered Lord Cumberland and Parliament in order to help me establish a nursing school for women. Now that the funds for the university will cost the government nothing they have no reason to deny our plans. Nothing is as dangerous as a thwarted politician.” Florence cast me a dark look as she clasped her hands together.
“What are you saying? You worry me!” I felt a quivering in the pit of my stomach.
She lowered her voice to a whisper, “If something should happen to Mr. Averoff’s endowment—if it should be stolen while in our care—the Privy Council would have reason to condemn the Queen for accepting a gift from a citizen of Greece and then misplacing it. They might say she has made England look disrespectful or scatterbrained.”
“Do you think the endowment is a trick?” I thought of that ancient saying…Beware of Greeks bearing gifts. “Could this gift from Mr. Averoff be a larger scheme to weaken respect for the Queen, because of her gender and age?”
Florence shook her head. “Mr. Averoff is known for his philanthropy. I doubt there is any scheming on his part. Once we have his gift in our possession, we must be even more alert than Lord Melbourne. No one will suspect we are on guard, for there are benefits to being a female in a male world.”
Nervously I looked around the room before I spoke, and when the words left my lips even I could barely hear them. “Do you trust Lord M? He’s awfully handsome in a royal way. Can we trust a handsome man?”
Florence reached over and squeezed my hand. “You have a writer’s imagination. Not all beautiful people are suspect. I have known at least two or three striking men who could be trusted. If the Queen trusts him, and it is clear she does, then we must trust him but with caution for we know nothing about the man.”
I nodded. “But what of Dr. Carbuncle? Is it not odd that he is to care for our well-being when he makes it clear he is against all that we are trying to achieve?”
A chill prickled my body. “Should he have a reason to treat me, I shan’t take his elixirs or his advice.”
“He is an odd choice, but since it is too soon to tell you must take care.” Florence made a shooing motion. “Now get some sleep for tonight may be the last comfortable night we spend for a long time.”
I peeked out the door and when it showed the corridor was clear, I slithered back to my room. Once inside, I found my boots sitting on top of my trunk. The clever, big-footed maid had stretched them; the dear girl had come and gone. I had missed her, which was just as well since I was much too tired to engage in even the briefest conversation.
Standing at the basin in the toilette area, I splashed water from the basin on my face and washed my hands. I changed into my sleeping dress and crawled into bed pulling the eiderdown over me.
Chapter 12
The coaches were lined up in the foggy morning light, creating a caravan under the portico at the main entrance of the Palace. Five royal coaches would carry our entourage including maids, Dr. Carbuncle and his bickering wife, plus Lord Melbourne, Florence, Granny and me as far as Dover where we would board a steam ship.
After Florence, I was the next to be handed into the coach. My heart skipped a little beat when I recognized the face attached to the gloved hand that helped me. It belonged to the cake-giving footman. He locked eyes with mine for an instant and I nodded my appreciation, while feeling a blush creep into my cheeks. I reminded myself not to flirt, most particularly with the servants for what would Mama say?
I settled on the seat next to Florence who immediately began to sniff. She wrinkled her nose, as she tilted towards me. Her brows furrowed. Mouthing the words without actually saying them, she lipped, Whiskey!
My hand flew to my mouth in a guilty reflex even though I did not drink whiskey. Granny had entered the carriage close behind me. She took her seat and passed the sniff test. The Carbuncles filled the doorway, and competed for a seat, but although they smelled of ether and dried roses, there was no scent of alcohol about them.
It was then I reminded myself about the helpful maid resizing my boots last night. They had been soaked in whiskey to soften the leather. I could see no way to explain that to my friend; she would just have to wonder until we reached Dover.
Although a bit tight, our carriage held the Carbuncles, Lord Melbourne, Florence, Granny and me. As Lord M took his seat next to the doctor, he leaned forward and whispered in my ear. “There is a surprise for you waiting on the ship.” Startled by his words, I drew in a jagged breath. Had he meant to speak to Florence? But no, his intent was clear. I felt an elbow in my side and it wasn’t Granny. What mischief was his lordship about and did Florence object to his attentions toward me?
The caravan of carriages struck out for Dover and the steam ship that would carry us to Calais. My heart thrummed, as my mind raced through all the possibilities this adventure might offer. I pulled the corner of my bonnet to shield my face from Florence and snuck a peek at Lord M. It was not that I was interested in him in a romantic way, but it was odd that he seemed interested in me. Or was it my imagination?
Granny reached down, took my hand, and squeezed it. “Be careful what you wish for,” she whispered. It appeared Edith Carbuncle heard her, for she cast a nosey glance our way. When no further words passed between us, the doctor’s wife began to struggle, adjusting her ample bottom against the tight fit of her husband’s matching bum.
Dressed in a fur cloak that was much too heavy for the warm day, she wiggled and elbowed her way into place much to the evident irritation of her husband. “I told you there would not be room for you!” he barked. “You should have stayed behind in London.”
“But dearest,” she spoke through clenched teeth, “you know I cannot bear to be separated from you.” Her remark was followed by a snort from him.
Sandwiched between Granny and Florence I was unable to lose myself in the scenery and was reduced to staring at my clasped hands. I wondered if my parents had heard of our adventure. I hoped that Roger was steeping in respect for my noble undertaking. I would show him what a girl—a lady—is capable of without the protection of a man, Lord M notwithstanding.
By early afternoon we had arrived at the docks in Dover. A steamship the size of our manor house lay in wait like a giant white whale prepared to gobble us up. We stepped from the carriage aided by two royal footmen who would accompany us throughout our journey. I felt a tickle inside my cheeks when I noticed that one of the footman was the cake-giving servant from the Palace. Trying not to laugh due to the delight of having a flirtation for the journey, I forced myself to walk with dignity into a courtesy building on the docks where we dined on baked fish, turnips, and bread with butter.
Wine was offered but because Florence declined, I did likewise. My parents allowed me to drink wine with dinner, but since my friend did not approve of alcohol and I had yet to explain why I smelled like a drunkard, I thought it wise to pass. Granny made up for my refusal. “Not too eager to board that huffing-puffing ship, you see,” she explained as she offered her glass for a third refill.
By the time we had finished our light meal, the ship was loaded with our trunks, and we were ready to walk up the gangplank. Taking a deep breath, I held Granny’s arm, watching as Lord Melbourne offered for Florence’s. Again, she managed to wordlessly decline his assistance. Her independence could be off-putting for a gentleman. Gathering her blue crocheted shawl about her shoulders, she proceeded up the gangplank, her head held high, her dark dress swirling in the breeze.
Lord Melbourne glanced over his shoulder. Regarding the trepidation on Granny’s face or perhaps it was my worried countenance, in three giant steps the gallant gentleman was at our side, taking Granny’s arm with his hand, while holding her close. Once on board, I was unable to govern my sigh of relief and let go with a hearty gust.
“You’ve not been on a ship before, Miss Throckmorten?”
“No. This is my first time.” I found his concern touching. “Granny may suffer from the motion, and that is my worry.” I did not wish him to think of me as a fainthearted female hence I blamed my grandmother for the look of terror I was certain I displayed. It was only then that I realized I had a fear of water. Never having been to sea before I felt disoriented and embarrassed to learn of my cowardice. I must overcome it.
“Let me find you a comfortable place to sit above board, while I see to the Dragoons. Should you need anything, there are two footmen about who will see to your needs. Please do not concern yourself with the soldiers, as they will remain below deck. The ship will leave for Calais within the half hour and be at our destination before dusk.” He patted Granny’s hand, and smirked, as she did not jerk away, but actually batted her eyes at him. “Tomorrow you shall experience your first train ride. I think you will enjoy it.”
Lord Melbourne found us a row of wooden chairs placed along the rear of the ship. Once he was certain we were comfortable, he strode away to supervise his men. For the life of me, I did not see why Florence was so standoffish towards him. His behavior had been nothing, if not that of a perfect gentleman. He had teased me about a surprise, and I had to admit my interest was aroused—was he joking?
“Please don’t fuss over me, child,” Granny said. “You go watch the boat leave the dock for I am sure it will be a most enjoyable sight. I will sit here until I find my sea legs—I believe that is what they are called.”
Confirming three times that she wished me to venture to the railing without her, I left my dear gran seated on a deck chair and walked unsteadily to observe our departure from land. The sound of the steam engines drowned out my thoughts, as I looked about but did not see Florence. She was probably directing the captain on the operation of his vessel, for she possessed a little knowledge about many things.
I leaned on the railing feeling as if I were falling sideways as the distance between the dock and the ship grew. For someone who had spent her entire life playing on grass and standing under trees catching her brother, this was a surreal experience.
The ship’s horn made a great loud blast, the most ferocious noise I have ever heard.
Waves lapped the ship, and then rocked it. I grasped the railing with both gloved hands feeling the moisture seep into my palms. I watched my beloved country disappear into the sea like a sliver of green and gray. A silent prayer rose from my lips to the heavens: please don’t let me get my face wet!
“Fancy meeting you here!” I started and reached in my pocket for my India rubber ball.
Chapter 13
“Just dandy,” I exclaimed as I looked into the bright eyes of Roger Broadribbs. Was this Lord Melbourne’s surprise? Did his lordship think he would please me? And how did my childhood friend come to know the Prime Minister of England?
“Close your mouth. Do you want flies to get in?” Roger asked, hi
s voice cracking with controlled laughter. It was clear he was tickled by having surprised me.
“How…?”
“One of the Queen’s people owed my father a favor,” he puffed up like a little rooster.
“I do not know the details but I am connected, as they say.” He attempted to look as if he was reprimanding me. “You can’t imagine how upset we all were when you left. I have been so worried about you that I could not eat or sleep.”
“Roger, I have only been gone for one day. Now you must get off this ship immediately! You are not allowed to be a part of this expedition.” Placing my hands on my hips, I stuck out my chin and faced off against him. He was not about to tag along on my very first adventure and ruin it for me. He was treading on my independence. “Miss Nightingale and I are on a very special mission, and you can’t come!” I studied the horizon; there was no sign of land. “Can you swim?”
“Too late. I have joined this excursion! By the bye, Lord Melbourne knows we are betrothed.”
I cringed with humiliation. “We are no such thing!” No wonder Lord Melbourne kept casting those looks at me. I stewed over this latest turn of events. This was to be my adventure, assisting Florence. I did not need or wish anyone’s assistance. “Just dandy…” I muttered.
“May I be of assistance?”
Turning, I all but fell into the bright blue eyes of the cake-giving footman. “Once again you seem to anticipate my needs. May I know your name?” I could sense Roger sizzling from anger.
“I am called Moon,” he said, nodding politely.
“Well thank you, Moon. This gentleman was seeking directions to the steerage class.”
We exchanged knowing looks and yet there we were, from two different worlds. Again, I felt that tickle where it did not belong.
“Miss Throckmorten is playing at her little games. We have no need for your services.” Roger dismissed the blue-eyed Moon.
Florence Nightingale Comedy Mysteries Box Set Page 5