The Complete 1st Freak House Trilogy: Box set (The 1st Freak House Trilogy)

by C. J. Archer

  "I wish she'd told me you were the companion and not the daughter," he said, shaking his head. "When Bollard told me that he'd heard there were two of you confined to the attic, I naturally assumed you were being passed off as his daughter, and she the companion."

  "Is Vi his daughter?"

  "I don't know."

  "She may be illegitimate," Sylvia said. "Perhaps he's ashamed of her and what he did. What do you know of Lady Wade, Hannah? Did she look like Lady Violet?"

  "I don't know anything about her." Indeed I was beginning to question everything I thought I did know.

  "It was fortunate that you got the right girl in the end, Jack," Sylvia said cheerfully. "I'm certainly glad we have Hannah and not the other one. She sounds like she can't be trusted if she was indeed part of Hannah's kidnapping." The fact that most of the people in the room had been part of my kidnapping seemed to have escaped her notice.

  "That's not what you first thought when you found out we didn't have an earl's daughter under our roof," Jack said.

  She sniffed. "Don't be ridiculous." She smiled at me and patted my arm. "Hannah is delightful company. I can't imagine anyone else I'd rather have as my friend."

  I smiled at her, but it wavered a little when I recalled Vi saying something very similar.

  "Why did you take her and not Violet?" Sylvia asked Jack.

  "The governess described the one to collect, but gave me no name. She simply called her 'that fire girl.' Nor did she tell me the one I wanted was the companion and not the lady." The color of his eyes deepened as his gaze held mine. "Besides, I felt a connection with Hannah. It was like I was being pulled toward her. What better evidence is there that we are alike?"

  "Then you must have felt the same connection to Tate."

  Jack said nothing. Langley, Sylvia and I turned to him. Even Bollard's gaze slid to Jack's.

  "No," Jack finally said. "I felt nothing around Tate. Only you, Hannah."

  A little jolt shot through me and my face heated. Only you. I smiled at him, and his lips quirked up at the edges. Then he frowned and looked down at his hands.

  "Those children have to be gone by tomorrow," Langley said.

  "What children?" Sylvia asked. "Oh, yes, Patrick's friends. Your friends," she said to Jack.

  We'd told him about the children coming to us, and how they had no adult to care for them. He'd expressed his concern that they might wind up thieving to survive. We'd come to the conclusion on the journey home that something needed to be done, but we'd not decided what.

  "Can't they stay here?" I asked.

  "Not all of them!" Sylvia said. "There's far too many, especially with half the house in ruins."

  "They're noisy and disruptive," Langley said. "I can't work with the two of them running about, let alone dozens."

  "We'll need to find somewhere for them in London," Jack said.

  "We ain't going to the workhouse!" The boy, Sniffles, stood in the doorway. He wiped the back of his hand across his nose. He looked neater than the first day he'd arrived. His hair had been combed flat and he wore clean clothes that were too large but looked warm.

  "I won't let you end up at the workhouse, Davey," Jack said, going to him. "There must be a charity school you can attend."

  Davey pulled a face. "I hate school."

  Jack made as if to clip him over the ear, but nudged him affectionately instead. "Go on. Go find Tommy and annoy him. Let us sort out where you'll go."

  "You sort it out, Jack," the boy said. He wrinkled his nose at Langley and Bollard. "Not them." He darted off.

  Frowning, Jack watched him go.

  "How many more of them are there?" I asked.

  "Dozens. I'd been sending Patrick money, and he was supposed to be taking care of them." He came back inside and shut the door. "There's no room for all of them here, even if they weren't disruptive, but there's no one to look after them in London. They'll have to be separated and families found for each of them."

  "Is it necessary to separate them?" I knew what it was like to be wrenched from the only family I knew, and I was eighteen. It would be horrible to do that to little children.

  "Is that even possible?" Sylvia asked.

  "It is with the right amount of money," Jack said. "No one will take in extra children without an incentive."

  "I'm not sure you'd encourage people with good hearts that way," I said. "The greedy ones, on the other hand, would be falling over themselves."

  Langley grunted. "I'll provide whatever is needed."

  Bollard said something to Langley with his hands. The rapid movements were smooth and elegant, his fingers dexterous in their twisting and pointing. I'd never seen him communicate with Langley, it had always been the other way around. It made the servant more human, but only just.

  When Bollard finished, Langley closed his eyes. He didn't open them or speak for some time, and I grew anxious that he would dismiss us all and make the boys leave Frakingham. What Jack would do in that situation was anyone's guess.

  "There's a charity school in London," Langley finally said, opening his eyes. "Its patroness is a lady named Emily Beaufort, the wife of Jacob Beaufort. She's a most interesting woman, quite the sensation about eight years or so ago."

  "Why?"

  "She was a girl of dubious parentage who married the son of a prominent viscount."

  "Is that all?" Sylvia scoffed. "It may be unusual, perhaps a curiosity even, but to describe it as a sensation...hardly."

  "She can also communicate with ghosts."

  Sylvia snorted through her nose. "Are you serious?"

  "Have you ever known me to joke?"

  She paled. "No. But are you certain she's not a charlatan? I've read of many accounts in the papers where spirit mediums have turned out to be false."

  "You mean like the one you visited last year?" Jack asked.

  Sylvia gave him a withering glare. "I would have thought a viscount's daughter-in-law would conduct herself in a manner befitting her station."

  "So would I," Langley said.

  "What has her ability to see ghosts got to do with the charity school?" I asked.

  "Nothing," Langley said. "The two facts aren't connected. Why don't you write to her, Sylvia, and request she look into the situation with the children?"

  She brightened, and I suspected she was glad to be given something to do. She bustled out, and I followed. Jack remained behind.

  I went to my room to freshen up after the journey and ate a sandwich of cold meat delivered by one of the maids. I tried to rest too, but couldn't. The events of London were too fresh, too frightening. I went in search of Jack instead and wasn't surprised to find him near the lake. He stood with his back to me. The breeze ruffled the ends of his hair, but otherwise, he was very still. Serene. I didn't want to disturb him, so I turned to go.

  "Wait, Hannah." He was beside me in the moment it took me to turn back. "I'm glad you came. I wanted to talk to you."

  The now familiar warmth of desire spread through my body, lighting every part of me along the way. It didn't feel wrong or uncomfortable, but so very delicious.

  "Oh?" I whispered. "What about?"

  "About my past." He looked toward the ruins. "Come with me."

  We sat side by side on a low, crumbling wall of the old abbey. Jack's feet touched the ground, mine did not. I waited for him to begin again, even though I knew what he wanted to say. Tommy had already told me some of it, but I wanted to hear it from Jack's lips. He had to do this on his own, without prompting. It must be wholly his own decision.

  It meant so much more that way.

  "I used to live with those children in London. Tommy and I both did. I was one of them. An orphan with no home, nowhere to go. I don't remember a time before that. I had no family, or so I thought. Tate confirmed that they knew me as a baby, so that's something at least. Perhaps I really am Langley's nephew, although he won't say how I came to live on the streets."

  "You've asked?"

  "Ye
s. When I first got here, I would ask every day for information about my parents, my background, but he would give only evasive answers until finally he snapped altogether and threatened to send me back to the streets. I couldn't go back to that life. Not then. And now I'm just used to not knowing. I've decided I don't want to know."

  Because he might not like the answer. I nodded, understanding completely. "Tell me about being on the streets with the other children."

  "When we were small, the bigger children took care of us. We thieved for them, picked pockets, whatever we could to survive as a group. They were like a family to me, I suppose, but life was hard and some of those older children...they were cruel. But not to me. I had these." He waggled his fingers. "As I grew older and I realized the power it gave me, I began to take charge. Since I was the only one who could keep the entire group warm in winter, no one argued against me. Besides, I was a capable fighter by then."

  I nodded. I saw how good he was against Ham. That man had been huge, but Jack had held him off and got some swift punches in.

  "We had to steal to live," he said. "It never bothered me much. It was just something we did to survive. Then one day Bollard showed up and everything changed." He huffed out a wry laugh. "Most of the children were terrified of him. He gave me a note. It told me to go with Bollard, and I'd be given all the food I wanted and a warm bed. The warm bed wasn't so enticing, but the food was. Tommy insisted on coming with me, and when August tried to send him away, I refused to stay. If he had to go, I would too. August gave in, grudgingly."

  "What explanation did Langley give for thinking you were his nephew?"

  "He gave none. He said I was his nephew and my name was no longer Cutler. When I asked him how he found me, he said he simply asked the right people. Like I said, evasive answers."

  Neither of us spoke for a long time, but something bothered me. I didn't know how Jack would react when I asked, but I suspected it was something he'd already considered so I asked anyway. "Do you think Mr. Langley made a mistake and got the wrong boy?"

  He shook his head. "He questioned me thoroughly about my parents. Their names, where they were from, what they looked like. I didn't remember them, but I own a knife with a distinctive handle. I assume it came from them as it's always been in my possession. I showed August, and he said he recognized it."

  "May I see it?"

  He blinked at me from beneath the hair that had tumbled over his forehead. "It's in my room."

  We hopped off the wall and walked as close to each other as possible without actually touching. It was enough to warm but not overheat me. Neither of us wore coats or gloves, and I doubted I ever would again. Miss Levine had tried to force me, but I no longer saw the point.

  "Jack," I said.

  "Hmmm?"

  "I'm so glad you abducted me."

  He chuckled. "So am I."

  "And thank you for telling me about your childhood."

  "It was either I tell you or you'd find out from Sylvia anyway. She has a loose tongue."

  I laughed and hoped he never found out it was Tommy who'd given me more information than Sylvia.

  I gazed up at Frakingham House ahead. The builders had begun to erect scaffolding on the eastern wing in preparation for the repairs, and already the network of wood and steel looked like a complex spider's web. A man stood on the driveway, his head tilted up to look at the burnt section of the house. A suitcase sat at his feet.

  "Who is that?" I asked.

  Jack squinted. "Gladstone?"

  "Good lord, it is. Samuel!" I called.

  He turned and I waved. He left his suitcase and came to meet us. "Good afternoon, Lady Violet, Mr. Langley." He tipped his hat. "What a pleasure it is to see you again."

  "Actually, my name is Hannah." At his raised brows, I added, "It's a long story to be told over tea. So what brings you to Frakingham?"

  "I hear they call this place Freak House." He shot a grim glance at the building. "I thought it might be somewhere I would fit in."

  Jack crossed his arms. "You mean to stay?"

  "I hoped to speak to Mr. August Langley and propose a research project."

  "How exciting," I said. "Are you not working with Dr. Werner anymore?"

  Samuel frowned. "No."

  "What makes you think August would be interested in your proposal, Mr. Gladstone?" Jack asked.

  "Call me Samuel. I believe your uncle has an interest in neuroscience. I thought perhaps he may want the chance to work with a real hypnotist."

  "August is very busy," Jack said. "And neuroscience is not his field of expertise."

  "I'd like to speak to him anyway."

  Jack held out his hand for Samuel to go ahead. We entered the house and Tommy showed Samuel up to Langley's room. Jack, Sylvia and I waited in the parlor.

  "How odd," Sylvia said. "I wonder why he left Dr. Werner's employ."

  "Perhaps he was thrown out," Jack said.

  Sylvia eyed him suspiciously. "You don't appear to like Mr. Gladstone very much. Why?"

  Jack looked to me then away. "He's too self-assured."

  It sounded so absurd coming from someone of equal confidence that I snorted a laugh. He glared at me.

  Finally Samuel returned. His smile was so broad it almost stretched to both ears.

  "What did he say?" Sylvia asked.

  "He said I may stay here while I conduct my research."

  Sylvia clapped her hands. "Splendid. It appears our little household is growing."

  "This is good news," I said, lifting my eyebrow at Jack in a challenge.

  After a moment, he sighed and clapped Samuel on the shoulder. "Welcome to Freak House."

  THE END

  Playing With Fire

  (Book 2 of the 1st Freak House Series)

  C.J. Archer

  Copyright 2013 C.J. Archer

  Visit C.J. at http://cjarcher.com

  CHAPTER 1

  Frakingham House, Hertfordshire, December 1888

  "There are simply too many men," Sylvia announced. "We need another woman. A single one, preferably of middle age for Uncle's sake." She sighed and scanned the piece of paper in her hand for the third time since joining Jack, Samuel and me on the front lawn of Frakingham House. Her sigh said it all. It would seem she couldn't conjure a spare unattached female from her list of invitees.

  "I'm not sure your uncle would care one way or another," I said, dipping my paintbrush into the blob of indigo on my palette. "Is he looking for a wife?"

  "I'm not trying to marry him off, Hannah. I want a perfect dinner party, and you can't have the perfect dinner party with an unbalanced number of ladies and gentlemen."

  "Are even numbers an absolute must for the perfect dinner party?" Jack asked, twirling a dueling pistol around his finger. It wasn't loaded, nor was Samuel's, but Sylvia did not take her gaze off it.

  I'd made the two men hold them and stand a little apart, their backs to one another. My painting was going to be titled Pistols at Dawn and have a dramatic, swirling sky, but I wasn't a very good artist. It was particularly difficult to render the house in the background since it was still covered in scaffolding.

  "Honestly, Jack," Sylvia said with a shake of her head that made her blonde curls bounce, "I can't believe you have to ask me that." She pulled the fur collar of her coat up to her ears and huddled into it. "On second thought, perhaps I can believe it, all things considered."

  Jack caught the pistol's handle, halting the twirling. His mouth flattened and his gaze flashed in Samuel's direction. Fortunately the meaning behind her words appeared to be lost on our resident hypnotist. Either that or he was too polite to ask for an explanation. He simply remained standing side-on to me, his pistol at his chest in the pose I'd asked him to assume for my painting. I knew that Sylvia was referring to Jack's past as an orphan living on the London streets. Dinner party etiquette was not something he was overly familiar with. Nor was I. As the orphan daughter of servants and living most of my eighteen years in Lord Wade
's attic, I was lucky that I had received food at all. Parties had occurred downstairs, out of my hearing and sight, and very much out of my world.

  "Tell them, Samuel," Sylvia said, sniffing. Her nose had gone red from the cold, and I was surprised she was still with us. She hated being outdoors now that autumn had slipped into a freezing winter.

  I, on the other hand, loved the cool air whispering across my warm skin, and I couldn't abide wearing gloves. Jack too. As fire starters, we didn't feel the cold like normal people.

  "Samuel?" Sylvia prompted when he didn't answer. "Do not tell me that dinner parties are foreign to you too. How can that be? You're a gentleman."

  The implication being that Jack was not. Samuel made no indication that he understood the slight, which indeed confirmed that he was a gentleman in every sense. Not that it mattered. Jack wasn't listening. He cocked his head to the side and frowned, intent on something in the distance. I looked about, but all seemed as it should be. The foreman stood at the base of the scaffolding in discussion with one of his workers, and two other men tapped away at the newly rebuilt turret. They'd had to tear down the old one after the fire that ravaged the upper level of the eastern wing had rendered the turret unstable.

  The fire that I'd accidentally started.

  "I've attended my share of dinner parties," said Samuel, oblivious to Jack's distraction. "Of sorts." Samuel Gladstone had joined us a mere two weeks earlier after leaving the employ of a premier London neurologist as well as his studies at University College. He'd come to the country to conduct hypnosis research, but I'd yet to learn the exact nature of it and why it necessitated him being here, or if it had anything to do with his natural hypnosis ability. He'd been born with a talent for coercing people with little more than his voice and eyes, something which he'd hidden from most people, including his former employer.

  "Whatever do you mean?" asked Sylvia.

  He rubbed the pistol's ivory handle with his thumb. "Dinner was served, and they were indeed parties."

  Sylvia looked to me askance, and I shrugged. I hadn't any idea what he was saying either. "What was your mother's opinion on the matter of equal numbers of gentlemen and ladies?" she asked.