“Let’s clean up this mess, Ella, and then I will have another surprise for you.” What the surprise would be, I had no idea at the moment, but I would think of something while I tried to get the ink spots off Ma’s previously clean floor.
By the time my room was set to rights, I had thought of something she might enjoy—and if not, at least I would have given Priss and the kittens a bit of rest. I set my journal on the shelf of the wardrobe, where it would be out of reach, and turned to Ella.
“Would you like to see Professor Conn’s laboratory?” I asked her, trying to imbue the words with the impression I was doing her a favor to offer this treat.
“What’s that?”
“The place where I work. It’s full of all sorts of inventions and machinery.”
“That sounds boring.” She made a face.
“That’s what I thought when I first saw it,” I told her, “but it is a lot of fun to put little bits together. I’m sure the professor won’t miss a few gears and screws.”
Her eyes lit up. “Really? I can make things?”
“Sure.” I held out a hand to her. “Why not? But only touch what I tell you is all right to use. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
I retrieved my key to the laboratory, and we went downstairs. I’d been neglecting my duties of late with all the running around for Bridget. There was a light coating of dust covering everything—how quickly it accumulates.
“Will you do me a favor and dust a bit while I collect the things we’ll need?”
Ella nodded. I was a little surprised to see her so cooperative. Perhaps she was trying to make up for pulling the page from my diary.
I tied my apron around her and handed her my duster.
“Start over there.” I pointed to the rear of the room. “By the time you do the shelves, I’ll have collected enough things to play—to build something interesting.”
She stepped to the indicated section of the room, and I turned my attention to the bins of bits and gears. Humming to myself, I picked out several dozen, as well as a variety of screws, nuts, bolts, and a little piece of board that was full of holes. That would be useful for connecting things. I kept one eye on Ella, not wanting her to explore beyond the door into Alistair’s rooms. It was not my place to go introducing Phaeton to random people, even though I had the day before. Still, Augusta had been a fellow inventor, not a ten-year-old girl.
“I’m finished with the dusting,” Ella said, plopping the duster beside me on the counter. “Can we make stuff now?”
I pulled out a pair of stools and helped her up on one.
“Here are your components,” I told her, carefully spilling the things I had collected on the counter in front of her. “Here are some tools…” I handed her a tiny jeweler’s screwdriver and a pair of pliers. “Have at it.”
She giggled, picking up a gear and a screw. She attached the gear to the little board, and then added a second one so that its teeth meshed with the first gear. The assembly turned under her finger.
“Look!”
“Good job!” I encouraged her. “Try some more.”
It was good to see her happy.
We spent an hour or two fiddling with the bits and bobs in Alistair’s workshop. Ella was very happy with her creation by the time we decided to call it a day. We started up the stairway, Ella twirling her little gadget as she chattered about ways she might improve on the design next time.
I had my hand on her shoulder as we walked. Smiling down at the girl, I was contemplating what I should do next to entertain her. It was still several hours until dinner, and I was almost at the end of my resources.
I could take her across to meet Vanessa, also offering me a chance to check on Aunt Emily. Perhaps Ma had some chicken soup I could take her…
“Would you like to meet some friends of mine?” I asked the child.
She shrugged. “I guess.”
“You’ll like Aunt Emily,” I assured her. “And maybe she’ll have something for you to play with.” It struck me that, considering the shrine Lavinia’s bedroom had become, there might be some toys in the attic or storeroom that Ella could borrow.
We hurried into the house and got a crock of Ma’s wonderful soup to carry over across the street. Ella also washed her face and hands, which were filthy after playing with all the gadgets and gears.
She skipped beside me as we crossed the street.
“Is this your Aunt Emily? If she’s your aunt, how come you were in an orphanage? Is she like my Uncle Thad? Some relative that can’t have you?” She didn’t even take a breath between questions…
“No, she’s not really my aunt. I don’t have any relatives of my own, like you do. She’s just a very kind lady who asked me to call her that. You should call her Mrs. Estes unless she says differently.” I knocked on the door.
Vanessa answered, drying her hands on her apron.
“Who’s this then?” she asked, bending to get a good look at Ella.
“Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Estes,” the little girl replied politely.
“No—” I began.
Vanessa straightened with peals of laughter.
“Bless you, love! I’m not Mrs. Estes.” She glanced at me. “Mrs. Emily is still not receiving visitors, Miss Jo, but Mrs. Conn is in the dining room if you would like a spot of tea.”
I wasn’t really sure I was up to another meeting with Leonora, but—on the other hand—I did owe her a thank-you for the lovely clothes she’d sent. And I could tell her Alistair was well and should be home soon.
“That would be lovely, Vanessa.” I handed her the soup. “We brought this for Aunt Emily. Ma sends her best.”
She took the crock.
“Thank her for me.” Her eyes were glistening. “Now, you go on into the dining room, and I will be right out with your tea.”
As she headed for the kitchen carrying the crock, I saw her swipe at her eyes with the corner of her apron. I hoped Aunt Emily wasn’t more ill than she was letting on.
Leonora looked up from a pile of correspondence as we entered the dining room.
“Jo, dear!” She rose to her feet and held out her hands in welcome. “I was just wondering if you’d received my little gift, and here you are. Doesn’t that frock look darling on you? Much better than it did on me. Although…what is that smudge on your face?”
Oh my stars! Did no one think I might need to know that I should wash my face too?
“I’m afraid we have been busy inventing things,” I told her, placing a hand on Ella’s shoulder. “This is my good friend, Ella. Ella, this is Professor Alistair’s mother, Mrs. Conn.”
“How do you do?” Ella asked, using her best company manners.
Leonora smiled at the girl fondly.
“Very well, thank you. What a charming child!” she said to me.
“She is the niece of my friend Mother Mary Frances.”
“Indeed? Isn’t that interesting? Have you had tea?”
“We met Vanessa on the way in,” I assured her. “Tea is on its way.”
“Excellent.” She reseated herself at the table. “Do sit down, my dears. Emily is still a bit under the weather, but her doctors say she will be better soon.”
I hoped she was telling us the truth.
“What have you been doing with yourself since we last met, Josephine?”
I filled her in on everything—except the fact that Alistair had been kidnapped. If he wanted her to know that, he could tell her himself.
“Alistair should be returning any day now,” I concluded. “He assured me that the trial is nearly completed.”
“I am very glad to hear it,” she said, as Vanessa entered the room with a heavily loaded tray. “I don’t get to spend nearly enough time with him.”
We tucked into the tea, and by the end of it, we were laughing and joking like three old friends. Leonora could be a good influence on Ella, I realized.
When we finished the goodies Vanessa provided, Leonora pushed bac
k from the table.
“I used to know a little girl like you,” she told Ella solemnly. “Her name was Lavinia. Isn’t that a pretty name?”
Wide-eyed, Ella nodded.
“When she was just about your age, I asked her to look after my dear friend Hortensia. She did for a very long time.” A shadow flitted across her face. “And now she can’t anymore. Would you like to take care of Hortensia now?”
“Might I?” Ella asked me shyly. It was a side of her nature I hadn’t seen to date, and it was very sweet.
“I suppose it is up to Mrs. Conn—and Hortensia,” I added hastily, following Leonora’s lead in the matter.
“Let’s go and ask her, shall we?” Leonora rose to her feet, holding out her hand to Ella, who placed her own in it without question.
I followed them from the dining room and up the stairs to the hall containing the bedchambers. I expected Leonora to turn into the room I considered “mine” when I stayed here—Lavinia’s old bedroom. Instead, she opened a door down the hall.
“When Lavinia let down her hems and put up her curls, she felt she was too old for toys, so Emily moved them all here, to the nursery.” She gestured Ella into the room ahead of her.
It was filled with amazing things. There was a rocking horse nearly the size of a pony, a dollhouse that mirrored the big house down to the slightest detail, trains on a fixed track that fit under the eaves.
But Ella was drawn like a magnet to a large doll sitting in front of a tea set just right for a little girl.
“You found her!” Leonora said, clapping her hands. “I believe Hortensia was waiting for you.” She followed Ella across the room. “Here is her trunk, see? And all the dresses and other things that go with them. You must take the tea set as well; otherwise, how will you two get to know one another? It’s always best to make new friends over tea. Don’t you agree?” She winked at Ella, who nodded furiously.
Leonora helped her pack up Hortensia’s things, chatting and laughing all the while. How could I ever have been intimidated by this lovely woman?
When everything was packed to their satisfaction, Leonora went to the head of the stairs and called to Vanessa. “Could you have Roderick step up here, please?”
The maid did as she was bid, although I saw her throw a look over her shoulder that said she wasn’t terribly pleased to be doing it. I imagine Vanessa had grown used to one mistress, and wasn’t terribly happy with two.
Roderick hefted the doll’s trunk to one shoulder easily and carried it across the street and up the stairs to my room. Unpacking and exclaiming over every item in the case kept Ella busy for the rest of the afternoon, and she climbed into her cot at bedtime without a murmur of protest, Hortensia clutched firmly under one arm.
Both were dressed in linen and lace bed-gowns—I had tossed the homespun nightgown she had brought with her into the far corner of the wardrobe and claimed it was lost.
“Goodnight, Miss Jo,” Ella murmured sleepily, as I pulled the coverlet up under her chin. “I’m glad I came here. It’s ever so much more interesting than the convent…”
Her eyes closed, and she drifted off to sleep. I wasn’t far behind her.
“I am telling you, Constance—my heart was pounding so hard!”
“What did you say?”
“I pretended I had been looking for him and lost my way.”
“Did he see the painting had been moved?”
“I’m not sure. I had pushed it back into place as soon as I heard his voice. But I did see the safe. If he has your ring, that’s where it will be.”
Constance sighed. “What good will it do me to know that?”
“If we can expose him for the cur he is, no one will heed his accusations.”
-- Garrett Goldthwaite
Analytical Amy and the Case of the Covetous Cad
Chapter 14
The next morning, Ella and I showed Hortensia all around her new home. We were just about to start down the basement stairs when I thought I heard my name. The last time that had occurred was not a pleasant experience, but this voice I knew.
“Jo!” cried the welcome voice again, from the street behind me.
I whirled. My heart leapt up high enough to choke me at the sight of him. I took a deep breath to force it back down.
“Alistair—you’re back.”
“Indeed.” He ran toward me, and I thought…for a brief instant…that he was going to sweep me into his arms as he had at the warehouse, and I was most looking forward to it.
Instead, he grabbed my free hand and pumped it enthusiastically. I will admit to a wave of disappointment, but I schooled my face into a bright smile.
“We finished the trial earlier than expected—when I told the judge about the abduction to prevent my testimony, it decided the matter at once in our favor and I took the next airship back. Paul Blessant is going to prison for a very long time. Herbert and Fred had already managed to procure transport for their materials, so they came in by air as well. They’ve gone straight to Herbert’s warehouse to prepare for the Pearl’s arrival, but they will be back here in time for dinner…” His stream of words finally ran down as he noticed my companion for the first time. “Who is this?”
“This is my friend Ella…Grey.” I realized at the last moment that I really didn’t know what surname she went by, and it didn’t seem prudent to give Bridget’s. Luckily, Ella was a bright girl, and she didn’t contradict me. “She’ll be staying with me for a few days.”
“Pleased to meet you,” she said, bobbing a quick curtsey.
She’d definitely been taught manners, then, even if she didn’t always use them.
I slipped an arm through Alistair’s to distract him—and, truth be told, because I was so glad to have him home safe after the harrowing events of Wednesday evening. I was happy to see he looked no worse for wear.
He would be able to advise me on what to do about this blackmail problem. Alistair always knew what to do—or at least provided a sounding board that let me work things out to my satisfaction.
“How is your head?” I asked him.
“It’s fine. Let me just stow my things downstairs, and we’ll all go in to Ma. I’m starving.” He pulled away from me and retrieved a pair of carpetbags from the walk.
“You have a very nice workshop,” Ella commented, skipping down the stairs beside him.
He looked over at me and blinked.
“Th-thank you, Ella. Has Miss Jo been showing you everything?” He was looking at me pointedly over her head.
“Oh yes,” she said blithely. “We’ve been inventing.”
“I see…”
“We didn’t touch any of your things, Alistair, just some of the loose gears and bits.”
“Technically, those are my things, Miss Mann,” he answered, voice stiff with disapproval. “What on earth were you—”
Ella was gazing up at him with wide-eyes, and he reined himself in.
“We will discuss this later,” he concluded.
It really was time for luncheon, so as soon as Alistair had put his bags in his bedroom, we trooped upstairs to the main house. Ma hugged him with an ease that gave me a twinge of jealousy, especially since he was angry with me. She sat us down at the dining room table—as it was a “special occasion”—and began putting food before us.
“Ma, if you keep feeding me like this, I’ll need another new wardrobe,” I complained with a laugh.
“If them frocks were taken in, I bet I can let them back out. Now eat.”
I stifled a sigh. I really was putting on weight under the influence of Ma’s cooking, but she would hear none of my protests.
“Look at ya, perfessor. Looks like ya ain’t et the entire time ya were gone. You finish that right up.”
When she went to the kitchen for the next course, Alistair turned my way.
“So, Josephine, what have you been up to while we’ve been gone? Apart from ransacking my workshop?”
“I just saw you night before
last, Alistair.”
“Well, yes, but we didn’t have time to catch up. How have you been filling your time?” he persisted, spoon halfway to his lips.
“Blackmail,” answered Ella before I could couch a response.
Alistair choked, spoon clattering into his bowl.
“Not doing it, Alistair,” I hastened to explain, glaring at Ella, who batted her eyelashes at me. “Trying to stem it.”
“I think you had better start at the beginning.” He resumed eating, but his hand was noticeably shaking.
I collected my thoughts, and quickly filled him in on the events of the last few days.
“And you say this Smythe fellow is a real estate broker?”
“Apparently. At least, that is the word in the press.”
“Interesting. Perhaps I should buy some property.”
“Don’t be silly, Alistair. You don’t need any…oh!”
“Exactly.”
I finished my meal.
“I’ll come with you.”
“But you already met him, Miss Jo,” piped up Ella. “He might recognize you.”
I was beginning to think “Miss Grey” had an unfortunate tendency to spend a lot of time at keyholes. I was almost sure she had been out of the room when Bridget and I discussed our plans and their result.
“She has a point, Jo.”
Of course he would side with the child. For one thing, it would stop me from accompanying him.
“I was wearing a nun’s habit and wimple. He didn’t see my hair, which is my most distinctive feature. If I wear my own clothes, I doubt sincerely he would recognize me. It’s certainly worth a shot.”
“Do you really think that merely changing your costume will work?”
“Probably. If he really does sell real estate for a living, he won’t look too hard at a prospective buyer.”
“You don’t know much about business, do you?” Alistair said dryly. “He will be assessing anyone who comes in as a potential buyer to see if that person has means to purchase what properties he has to offer; he will be looking for tells as to how to better get in the buyer’s good graces; he will be looking for any advantage he can exploit…”
The Nearly Notorious Nun Page 10