“You two draggletails clear off,” she shouted in a rough, ugly tone. “This is a respectable establishment. We don’t want the likes of you dirtying the place.”
“We’re not… whatever you said,” replied Odette, her shaking starting to come more from anger than the cold. “We lost our mount—”
“Enough of the fairytales. No respectable woman would be out and about this time of night. And that one,” she said loudly, smirking and pointing at Cara, “looks to be in a family way. I said clear off and do it now, or I’ll set Bill on you.”
“You foul old woman,” growled Cara, her Irish up. She started toward the couple on the steps, and Odette noticed that the hidden rucksack did indeed make her look “in a family way.” The man lifted the truncheon. Odette pulled her back before he could take a swing. They both beat a hasty retreat out of the courtyard away from the promise of warmth and food and, according to Odell, help. Cara was still cursing at the large woman.
One of the hostlers looked up with a grinning leer. “You darlings just wait by the post there and when we’re done, we’ll bring something to warm you up.” Cara took a kick at him. “But not her,” he added. “I hear that when a slag is breeding she gets mean.” Odette had to pull a furious Cara out into the dark street.
“Oh, I wish you’d let me have a crack at that Boiler Hag and that smirking ape!”
“I don’t think it would have turned out well for us. And I think we’d better get moving before any of those men decide to come out and “warm us up.” Suddenly a wave of despair hit her and she groaned, “Odell said there would be someone who could help at that inn and we can’t even—”
She felt Cara tap her shoulder. “What is it,” she said, looking up. Cara was pointing down the street to the spot where they had landed. Directly behind that spot there swung, in the gentle glow of a lamp, a sign. It said, “The Ferrous Swan.”
“It’s an inn,” said Cara. “And we were put down right in front of it.”
“Oh,” said Odette.
After slogging back down the road, they stood trembling with cold, fatigue, and a certain amount of unease before the heavy oak door of The Ferrous Swan.
“Well, go ahead, knock,” said Cara.
Odette raised her fist and did just that. They waited. No one came. Then she saw on the darkened door what looked to be a bell pull. She pulled it and was gratified to hear the sound of a raucous bell echoing from inside. She pulled it again and again with a deepening sensation of fear and frustration. She was about to give up when the door swung open.
Light and warmth poured out on them like a blessing. And in the middle of it stood a creature that looked for all the world like an angel. He was tall, fair, holding a lantern, and wearing a robe. But the angelic effect was ruined when he frowned deeply at the sight of them.
“What do you two want?” The tone was gentler than the large woman’s at The Whistling Pig, but it contained all the same distasteful assumptions.
“Please, we are in desperate circumstances. My brother said we could find help here.” Cara gasped at her words and Odette knew she was taking a chance, but she would do or say anything to keep that door open.
“Your brother?” He swung the lantern close and scrutinized her face. He sighed resignedly and asked, “What is his name?”
At that point, Odette hoped like hell that her brother had chosen to use his real name. “Odell Speex. I’m his sister Odette and this is our friend, Miss Cara Mills.”
He sighed again, but before he could speak a voice sounded behind him.
“Gabriel, what are you doing holding the door open like that? I could feel the draught all the way into the kitchen.” It was an older woman with a round pleasant face and button-bright blue eyes. She stopped speaking as soon as she saw Cara and Odette. Her sympathetic gaze took in their condition immediately without, Odette noticed, any distaste at all.
“Gabriel,” she said. “Have you been making these poor lassies stand outside in the cold all this time? They’re freezing, poor things.” She surged forward like a gentle hurricane, gathered them up and hustled them into a very comfortable, brightly-polished, wood-paneled common room. With a bar, and tables and chairs set before a banked fire that still produced a very effective amount of warmth.
She got them settled in the chairs before the fire murmuring, “Poor, poor dears.” She chaffed their hands and pulled off their shoes. When she tried to take Odette’s greatcoat, Odette pulled it closer. But the woman did get a glimpse at what was underneath.
“Oh,” she said, her eyebrows raised. “Well, my dear, we’ll get you something else. My daughter Barbara has some things that might fit you in a pinch. She then took Cara’s coat revealing the rucksack. She blinked and laughed. “My lord, you do know that it made you look as if—”
“I was in a family way. Yes. I know,” said Cara with a weary smile.
“My name is Josephine Wright. I own this inn. This is my son, Gabriel. And I have a few words to say to him.”
She turned to face him with her hands on her hips. “You were going to send them away, weren’t you?”
He frowned even deeper at the accusation. “Yes… no… she’s Odell Speex’ sister.”
“Well, of course she is. She resembles him. You were going to send them away. Tell the truth.”
“Mother.” He tried to sound stern but failed. Instead he sighed and looked at her wearily. “It’s not good for you to be known as someone who takes in disreputable strangers. I was trying to protect your good name.”
“In this town my name is good enough to withstand most anything.”
“Mother—”
“Go get your sister. She is in the Norvell’s rooms helping with that colicky baby. Drove Mrs. Norvell mad all day. And her husband going to the iron springs tomorrow early, with no rest. I sent Barbara up with a decoction of valerian and peppermint, watered down of course. Can’t take any chances with a baby. Now go.”
Gabriel nodded reluctantly and went out.
After he’d gone, Mrs. Wright patted Odette’s hand and said, “Please forgive my son. He’s caught himself a disease called respectability, at least on my behalf. He thinks I should be received by the rector’s wife at one of her tea parties for the gentry. Well, he might as well give up on that.” Then she smiled. “I’ll tell you truth, if anyone in this family is going to rise in the world it will be my Gabriel. He’s a lawyer, what they call a special pleader which is halfway to being a real barrister. He argued your brother’s case in front of a judge. He did so well. I was that proud of him.”
“Not good enough for Uncle Caswell to offer a barrister’s position in his chambers. That he has reserved for cousin Dean.”
Gabriel had come back trailed by a tall young brunette with rosy cheeks who slapped his shoulder and said, “Cousin Dean will have to lose the stutter. Once Uncle realizes that’s never going to—”
Her mother interrupted, “Barbara, how’s the baby?”
“Oh, little bit’s fine. Sleeping away. Her mother is that relieved.”
“We have some unexpected visitors. This is Miss Odette Speex, Odell’s sister and their friend… ah…”
“Miss Cara Mills,” Gabriel said.
“Since we’re all full up, Barbara, I thought you might let them have your room for the night, and you can trundle with me. Also, I think they need nightclothes and Miss Speex a bit more than that. Unless…” Mrs. Wright threw a glance of inquiry toward the rucksack.
“No,” said Odette, “there’s just some notebooks and money in there. We… we can pay…”
“My dear, we’ll discuss all that in the morning when you’re rested.”
Barbara Wright led Cara and Odette up three flights of steps to a small, cozy room with a bed that would just about accommodate two slender women. She kept up a cheerful line of chat as she rummaged through a big cedar chest and pulled out fresh bed linens and two flannel night gowns.
She only stopped when Odette took off the greatcoat
and revealed the negligee beneath. Her eyes widened and she whistled. Finally she said, “That’s the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.”
Odette blushed as she slipped out of the sheer silk and into the flannel. “I prefer this one,” she said. Then in an effort to change the subject to almost anything else, she said, “The Ferrous Swan, that’s an unusual name isn’t it?”
Barbara laughed. “You know an inn can be named any old silly thing like The Whistling Pig down the road.”
“Yes. But why two inns so near each other? Surely there’s competition.”
“Oh no, we cater to a different clientele entirely. The Pig’s a coaching inn for travelers overnight that don’t stay longer than the next morning’s coach. It’s hustle and bustle all times of the day or night. My father built The Swan to accommodate visitors who come to Hampstead for the iron springs, sick people with their families and the elderly. They don’t want all that noise and rush. And we let out suites of rooms big enough for families to stay a while in comfort. We have the best food and the best ale, even the locals come here for that.”
“The iron springs?” said Cara.
“You’ve never heard of the famous Hampstead iron springs?”
“No.”
“Doctors all over England send their patients here to take the waters. That’s why father named this The Ferrous Swan. He liked the name The Swan, but there were too many of the same. Ma suggested The Iron Swan in honor of the springs, but Pa thought that sounded ugly till his brother, who’s an apothecary, suggested using the Latin for iron which is ferrous. And he liked the sound of that.” She giggled. “Funny thing though most of the locals and our clientele call it The Fairest Swan instead. It causes no end of confusion. Drove poor Pa to distraction.”
“So,” said Odette, “this is Hampstead.” She tried to make it a statement rather than a question. She didn’t want to appear too ignorant since she had said Odell sent them here on purpose.
“Oh yes,” replied Barbara. “You’ll like it. Your brother did. He was a sweet boy. Just a bit odd.”
Odette and Cara exchanged smiles on hearing Odell described as odd and sweet to boot.
Cara asked the next question, “And how far is London from here?”
“Oh, just a few miles. Gabriel swears that it won’t be long before London swallows us up. But I’ll believe that when I see it.”
As soon as the friendly young woman let them alone, Odette sat on one side of the bed and dug into the rucksack. There were some gold coins and, in a large bundle, Bank of London notes of all dominations and none dated later than 1756. She couldn’t begin to know how he had obtained such riches, perhaps antiques dealers.
“I have a plan,” Odell had told her.
A plan, thought Odette with a twinge of despair. You never told me your plan. Then she remembered Odell’s “notes.” She grubbed in the bag again and under the money, was a small, leather-encased notebook. She sighed with relief and opened it and there indeed was Odell’s neat script which she proceeded to read.
In the meantime, Cara snuggled down beneath the bedclothes. She turned a sleepy head toward Odette. “What are you doing?”
“I’m reading Odell’s notes. Then I’m going to work on a story.”
“A story?”
“Yes, a plausible, believable story. We’re going to need one.”
The story she told to the three listening Wrights the next morning as they sat in Mrs. Wright’s small parlor was as much of the truth as she could safely tell without being branded a lunatic. Her brother had fallen into the clutches of an evil and powerful man. She had attempted to rescue him but was discovered by one of his henchmen. She and Cara had barely escaped with their lives. She did not know if Odell was dead or captive. And she dared not name their nemesis or reveal any detail of their plight until she knew for sure, fearing it would only endanger Odell more.
With this rule established she could deflect any questions regarding where they came from or their background. It was something, she could tell, that frustrated the skeptical young lawyer. His frown deepened throughout her recital, whereas his sister sat wide-eyed, captivated by the “romance” of the tale. Their mother just seemed to take it all in as if Odette were describing something as mundane as plucking a chicken.
“Well, my dear, what can we do to help?” asked Mrs. Wright, ignoring a sputtering expostulation from her son.
“You’ve done so much already,” replied Odette. “And we do have the money to pay you. In fact, if Mister Wright could help me bank our money and assist us to more permanent lodging and, of course, clothes. That would be sufficient.”
“Aren’t you afraid that this 'evil' man will find you? Don’t you want us to help you hide?” asked Gabriel his blue eyes narrowed, and his finely cut lips stretched into a thin line. Odette couldn’t help but notice how much he still resembled an angel, albeit a stiff and disapproving one.
“Oh no, I want to make myself as visible as possible.”
He raised his eyebrows skeptically. “Oh?”
“I won’t use my real name. It seems Odell has made Speex rather notorious and too well known. It may put people off at first,” she replied. “But I have no intention of hiding. To find Odell, I need to find this man or he needs to find me. And I don’t want to be found without resources or… friends.”
She cast her eyes down. And Gabriel couldn’t help thinking how well she did it. For her appeal caught at his heart as did her large golden eyes, her elfin features, her slender figure, her shining hair. It was making him angry.
“In fact, I was thinking of going on the stage,” she continued. “My mother was a dancer and sent me to the finest dancing masters in Europe.”
Gabriel, his face growing red, burst out, “A dancer! A… a dancer is no more than—”
“An artist,” said Odette proudly. “I am an artist. And so was my mother.”
Chapter 11
Barbara sat with her dark head bent over the stiff fabric. Her fingers were cramped from the hundreds of tiny stitches she plied across the ribbed bodice. She had never seen such a costume as the one Cara had designed and on which she now worked.
Made of heavy white silk, the bodice was embroidered in gold thread with intertwining vines of green. Barbara had watched in awe as Cara drew the design across the expensive fabric and then expertly outlined it with the gold and green thread.
The skirt, if “skirt” is what one could call the crisp, gauzy confection, was made mostly of a stiff taffeta. It was made even stiffer by carefully applied blue starch.
“We need a good laundress,” Cara had announced only days after their arrival and after they had ventured to London on an extravagant shopping trip. “Only an experienced laundress can apply the starch properly and keep it from dragging down the skirt.”
The scene at the laundry was one Barbara later recounted with much laughter to her mother. The delicate and beautiful Cara, now perfectly clothed and coiffed, had stood with Nan, their local laundress, discussing her precise instructions for processing the expensive fabric. The typically blunt, no-nonsense Nan was struck dumb by the “gentry lady” who seemed to know more than she about laundry and starching techniques. But Barbara could tell by the thin line of her tightened lips, that Nan was none too pleased at being told her business. Still her feathers were significantly smoothed when Cara announced the job “masterful” and paid her an extra five shillings for her trouble.
The day after Odette and Cara’s arrival, the Norvell’s and their colicky baby vacated the family suite in the inn’s quiet west wing. The suite was one of their best with a large bedroom, a small cozy sitting room, and a well-appointed parlor for eating and receiving guests. It overlooked the lovely park and gardens that were one of the most charming aspects of The Ferrous Swan. Odette thought it wonderful, and she and Cara proceeded to fill it with purchases.
Barbara was surprised that their trip to London had not included visits to mantua makers or fashionable modistes. Instead
they ventured into a decidedly unfashionable, albeit busy, part of the city. Here the stores were stocked to the rafters with bolts of fabric and long trays and drawers filled with all manner of lace, thread, buttons, clasps, and appliqués. Again she watched Cara’s display of knowledge. She refused to deal with sales persons at all and cowed the proprietors into giving her exactly what she needed at the exact price she demanded.
Barbara was awed at the change in Cara. From the obviously frightened and disoriented woman who had arrived only days before, she had morphed into a commanding yet strangely gentle presence. At the inn she was unfailingly kind and polite. This won her a devoted following among the servants and many of the guests. But when it came to business, and especially Odette, Cara brooked no nonsense, twice even calling Gabriel on the carpet for a perceived slight to her darling.
Barbara’s lips twitched with amusement. Observing Gabriel was almost as fun as watching Cara in action. That first morning with Odette’s story laid out before them, he could barely contain his disbelief and suspicion. Her brother, half brother really, usually had a strong sense of the ridiculous. He was always ready with a witty remark and easy laugh. But when it came to their mother he could be… well… he could be as protective as Cara was of Odette.
During Odette’s recital, Barbara watched as he struggled with his natural skepticism and their mother’s desire to help two women in obvious need of friends. That Josephine Wright had once been such a woman was never far from her mind.
“Gabriel, don’t look so grim.” Their mother had laughed at him after Odette and Cara retired to their rooms. “They’ve obviously omitted a great deal, but we’ve no right to pry.”
Odette Speex: Time Traitors Book 1 Page 9