The House of Hidden Wonders

by Sharon Gosling

  Sadie would give her good teeth for just a few hours on the other side of those gates, she thought, as she waited for the door to open. What sort of life would it be, to walk into a place like that whenever you felt like it?

  The butler had obviously been expecting her because, when he opened the door, he merely gave her a brisk look up and down and then let Zinnie in. She stepped through the door and stopped dead. For a moment she could do nothing but gape.

  Everything in Montague House screamed expense. A glittering crystal chandelier hung above her head. Carved gold lilies wound round the banisters edging the huge staircase that led up to the first floor. In fact, there was gold everywhere, encircling mirrors and gilding the candelabra standing upon the gleaming dark wood cabinets. In places it was shot through with a piercing turquoise-blue and a deep purple, colours that shone from the heavy drapes gathered beside the windows and the fat cushions on elegant seats that looked as if no one ever sat in them. It was like being enveloped by a peacock’s tail feathers.

  There were curious flashes of strangeness too. The walls were peppered with carved wooden masks, feathered headdresses and pieces of huge jewellery in frames. Three curved gold daggers were displayed on a small corner table. The hat stand seemed to have spears resting in it instead of umbrellas and there was some kind of brightly coloured bird perched atop it. A second later, Zinnie was startled as the bird, which she’d assumed to be stuffed, proved to be very much alive. It gave a single unholy squawk and opened its scarlet wings, soaring up the staircase and out of sight.

  “This way,” said the butler, with a touch of impatience.

  Zinnie followed him into another beautiful room, where the mistress of the house was waiting. Lady Sarah Montague turned out to be an extremely tall woman with a strong, smiling face and thick blond hair. She was sitting in a high-backed armchair beside the fire, but stood up as Zinnie was shown in. The dress she wore was embroidered with hundreds of tiny colourful flowers and probably cost more money than Zinnie would ever see in her life.

  “Well now, you must be Zinnie,” said Lady Sarah, before the butler could open his mouth. “I know absolutely nothing about you, but Arthur says he needs you to be here and so here you must be. Perkins, send up some tea, would you? And send up Dorcas too – Zinnie will need to meet her.”

  “Come, sit,” said Lady Sarah, as the butler bowed and left.

  Zinnie looked down at the grubbiness of her tattered trousers and then at the white seat of the chair Lady Sarah had indicated.

  “My dear, please don’t trouble yourself,” said Lady Sarah, seeing her hesitate. “You should see the kinds of messes I’ve brought back with me to this house time and time again and it has always survived. Furniture is really quite resilient, you know, as long as you don’t take a match to it. And trust me, on occasion, I’ve even done that when it’s been necessary.”

  Zinnie wasn’t quite sure what to say to that, and couldn’t even begin to work out whether it were true, but she did as she was told and perched on the chair. Her eye was then caught by something on the floor. At first she thought it was an odd-shaped rock, but then it moved and she was shocked to see that it had a stone-coloured head and four stumpy legs. She jumped and gripped the arms of the chair.

  “Oh!” said Lady Sarah, leaning down to scoop up the strange creature. It immediately retracted its head and legs so that it looked even more like a stone. “You’ve found Algernon! He’s a tortoise. I brought him back with me from China – someone wanted to make soup out of him for me, but I wouldn’t allow it. He does have an enclosure – but he prefers to roam round the house, looking for lettuce and surprising my guests. Isn’t he such a peculiar, beautiful thing?”

  The door behind them opened before Zinnie could think of a response and a maid came in with a silver tray loaded with a teapot and cups.

  “Ah, Anne,” said Lady Sarah, as the girl set the tray down. “Take Algernon, would you, and get cook to let him have some peas? He does love peas.”

  The maid gingerly took the tortoise in both hands and bobbed a slightly awkward curtsey before she left again.

  “Now,” said Lady Sarah, “I hear that Arthur needs you to be one of my maids in attendance at the seance tonight, is that right? Am I permitted to know why?”

  Zinnie blinked in surprise. “He hasn’t told you?”

  “Not a thing. I just got a note to say you were coming and what he needs you to do.”

  “And you just … did it?”

  “Oh, dear Arthur,” said Lady Sarah fondly. “I can never refuse that boy anything. Bless him, he thinks he’s going to be a doctor, but he’s obviously destined to be an author. He tells the best stories of anyone I know. Whatever he’s up to, I’m all for it.”

  “He … wants me there to listen,” Zinnie said. “In case there’s anything said that might mean something to me that means nothing to anyone else.”

  “I see,” said Lady Sarah, nodding, as she began to pour the tea. “Well, actually, I don’t see at all, but there you go. Perhaps it will all become clear in due course. I trust Arthur and Arthur apparently trusts you, and that’s good enough for me.”

  “Oh yes, she’s been everywhere has my lady,” said Dorcas the maid later, as she showed Zinnie round the house. “Brought a bit too much of Everywhere back with her as well, if you ask me,” she added, wrinkling her nose as the two girls paused to look up at another fearsome mask.

  Zinnie was now in a plain black dress with a neat white pinafore over the top. Her face, ears and hands had been scrubbed with soap (quite hard – Dorcas had done the scrubbing herself) and her short hair combed back beneath a white cap. The clothes were the newest and cleanest Zinnie had ever worn, but she hated the skirt – it reminded her of her miserable days in the orphanage and it was awkward to move in. Besides, the cotton was starched stiff and scratched at her skin.

  “Is there a Lord Montague?”

  “Nope,” said Dorcas. “There was once but he died, long time ago now, before I were ever here.”

  “Then who does she travel with?”

  Dorcas gave her a grin. “On her own mostly. Oh, we’re a fully modern household, don’t you know. What are you doing here anyway?” she asked, as they made their way back down the stairs towards the kitchen.

  “I’m just an extra pair of ears, that’s all,” Zinnie said. “One of Lady Sarah’s guests wants answers from spirits that might mean more to me than him when they come.”

  “Oh aye? Well, you go ahead and listen. Long as you don’t talk too much about what you see, we’ll all stay friends.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Dorcas smiled, though there was an unpleasant edge to it. “Never mind. You’re smart; you’ll get it. You had anything to eat today?”

  Zinnie’s stomach grumbled loudly in answer.

  “Come on,” said Dorcas. “Let’s find you a bit of Cook’s chicken pie. Can’t have you getting the shakes while you feed and water the great and the good, can we?”

  A few minutes later, Zinnie sat amid the warm bustle of the kitchen, eating the best pie she’d ever tasted, surrounded by other servants doing the same. As she was trying to work out how she could save some of her meal for Sadie and Nell, she noticed a knot of maids and footmen in the dim light of the hallway that led to the servants’ stairs. They were gathered round a figure in a hooded cloak who seemed to be passing out coins. Each of the servants took one and listened to something the figure said before giving a brief nod and slipping away. One of the maids was Dorcas.

  A loud bell rang and everyone round the table at which Zinnie sat immediately stood up. The butler appeared at the other end of the kitchen.

  “It’s time, people,” said Perkins. “Don’t let Lady Sarah – or me – down this evening, will you?”

  There was a general murmur of, “No, sir.” Then the servants all scattered to their assigned tasks. Zinnie felt a light poke on her shoulder and turned to find Dorcas behind her.

  “Come on,” sai
d the maid. “Stick with me and you’ll be right.”

  At dinner, the guests sat round a long table laden with food. There were large bowls of fruit that just seemed to be for show. Terrines of pressed meats were carried in, surrounded by dishes of pickles and spiced chutneys. Whole poached fish lay on silver platters and roasted game birds were accompanied by great jugs of gravy and steaming-hot vegetables. Then came the pâtés and cheeses. There was course after course of elaborate, delicious-looking food, finally topped off with sugared cakes and grapes.

  “So, Lady Sarah,” said one guest, over the hubbub of other conversations, “do tell of your next expedition. To the Amazon, was it you said? I’m sure I should never be so bold as to journey there myself, not even with all the protection in the world.”

  “Indeed, Mrs Danvers, South America is my next destination,” said Lady Sarah. “All being well, I plan to embark for Ecuador early next year. From there I shall traverse the tributaries of the great river to the jungle city of Manaus before striking out across the jungle to Rio de Janeiro. That has never been done, you know, not by a European, at any rate. I anticipate I shall be away for two years, or perhaps even more.”

  “Good Lord Almighty,” burst out a loud voice with a broad American accent. It came from the other end of the table. All eyes turned to look at the man who had spoken. “Forgive me, Lady Sarah, but why would you even contemplate such a thing?”

  Lady Sarah smiled again. “Ladies and gentlemen, for those of you who have not yet met our new acquaintance this evening, this is Mr Phineas MacDuff, of New York, New York. My dear friend Sir Walter Charles sent him to me with a letter of introduction, bidding me make him welcome among Edinburgh society.”

  There was a general murmur around the table. The man in question smiled indulgently and pulled a kerchief from his pocket to dab at his thin lips. Zinnie saw that the scrap of cotton had letters stitched into one corner in curling script. She wasn’t surprised – MacDuff seemed like the type of man who would want to make sure people knew what he owned.

  “But, to answer your question, why does anyone do anything, Mr MacDuff?” Lady Sarah went on. “To see what’s out there, of course, and to experience it for oneself.”

  “There ain’t nothing on that continent that’s fit for a lady to experience, I can tell you that for nothing,” said MacDuff. “Forgive my Yankee bluntness, m’lady, but you’d be better giving up the enterprise right now.”

  “Oh?” Lady Sarah said coolly. “Would you have said the same to Burton or Speke?”

  “Of course not, but that’s different.”

  “Is it?” The whole table had hushed. “How so?”

  “Well, of course, it is in the very nature of a man to seek adventure, to desire to push beyond his own limits,” said MacDuff. “But for a woman, especially one such as yourself…” He trailed off, perhaps realizing that he was entering tricky territory, especially since Lady Sarah was his hostess. “Although I suppose you will, of course, be taking a proper escort with you, comprised of former military men and whatnot.”

  Lady Sarah raised an eyebrow and even from across the room Zinnie could see the piercing blue of her eyes. They seemed to have become fiercer as she had listened to MacDuff’s tone. Zinnie wanted her to take this loud, arrogant man to task, but when she spoke again Lady Sarah’s voice was still perfectly calm.

  “No. I shall attempt to find a suitable companion to take with me, but beyond that I shall be relying on local guides. Men – and women – who know the area intimately and can take me on the most efficacious routes.”

  This made perfect sense to Zinnie. If she ever needed to find her way in an area of Edinburgh she didn’t know well, she tried to find someone who lived there to tell her where to go. After all, who would know it better? MacDuff, though, obviously thought otherwise. He’d been in the process of taking a mouthful of wine as Lady Sarah said this, and he coughed as if he had breathed in too suddenly and might choke. A strained second later, he recovered himself.

  “Oh no,” he said. “Natives? That won’t do at all. You’ll end up lost or, at worst, eaten. They can’t be relied upon for a thing. Allow me to offer my services for your protection instead, Lady Sarah. If you want to see more of the world, I shall be embarking on a trip to the Cape late next year. You shall come with me and all will be well.”

  “But the Cape is not where I desire to go, Mr MacDuff. If I wanted to see a place owned by the Dutch, I should simply board a boat to Amsterdam.”

  Zinnie watched MacDuff shrug, as if what Lady Sarah wanted was by the by. He looked at several other of the male guests, clearly attempting to solicit their support. Zinnie felt her hackles rise. Here this man was, a guest at the generous table of Lady Sarah, who had taken him in on nothing more than the word of a friend – as she had with Zinnie herself, in fact – and MacDuff still thought he had the right to tell her what to do!

  “I do believe you have been lacking a man’s guidance, Lady Sarah,” he suggested. “Take the advice of someone who has travelled extensively and knows—”

  “Have you trekked the mountainsides of Burma, Mr MacDuff?” Lady Sarah asked, her steady voice full of an authority that cut across the man’s loud bluster. The rest of the table was still quiet.

  “No, m’lady.”

  “Have you rafted the waters of the North Platte in Colorado, in your own native land?”

  “I have not.”

  “Have you seen the sun rise over the Blue Mountains in Australia?”

  MacDuff looked away. “I’ve never been to Australia.”

  “Have you scaled the heights of Mauna Kea in the Sandwich Islands or ridden a camel on the sands of Arabia?”

  The man was looking positively red-cheeked by now. Zinnie had to bite her lip to stop herself from grinning. “No, m’lady, but—”

  “Then, Mr MacDuff,” Lady Sarah said, with a patient smile, “I suspect I am at least as adept at travel as you are.”

  Still MacDuff would not be dissuaded. “I mean no disrespect, Lady Sarah, but I believe someone must speak in defence of your welfare.”

  Zinnie very nearly snorted a laugh at that. Only an idiot would listen to what Lady Sarah had just said and think she couldn’t look after herself. Zinnie had the idea, however, that although MacDuff might have heard what his hostess had said, he hadn’t really listened to her at all.

  “Don’t worry yourself about me, Mr MacDuff,” said Lady Sarah. “I know perfectly well how to organize my own safety and travel. Not to mention my own mind.”

  Zinnie had absolutely no problem believing the truth in Lady Sarah’s words, and wondered why MacDuff could not do the same.

  “The natives will not welcome a woman travelling alone,” MacDuff warned her, clearly not believing she could know better than him.

  “Well,” said Lady Sarah, “then I suppose I must have just been terribly lucky to date. Even so, Mr MacDuff, if there is one thing we women know how to do, it is to go where we’re not wanted and yet make the journey anyway. Though in my experience such travel seems to be met with more resistance here at home than anywhere else. Is that not so, Doctor Jex-Blake?”

  Zinnie expected one of the silent men around the table to answer but instead, to her utter surprise, it was a woman who replied. She was a stout, dark-haired lady in a sombre black dress with a white lace collar and a calm, strong voice.

  “Indeed, Lady Sarah,” she said. “Otherwise we should none of us ever get anywhere at all.”

  “Mr Phineas MacDuff, perhaps you were not introduced to Doctor Sophia Jex-Blake earlier,” Lady Sarah went on. “Doctor Jex-Blake has just opened her practice here in Edinburgh, the first female doctor to do so in Scotland.” Lady Sarah paused. Zinnie thought she caught a brief look of mischief flash through her eyes, which was just as quickly replaced by utter seriousness. “As a newcomer to these shores, Mr MacDuff, I am sure you must be looking for a skilled physician to take care of you. You should apply to Doctor Jex-Blake. She still has room to take on new clie
nts at this moment, I believe.”

  There was another moment of silence as MacDuff tried to come up with a good excuse not to agree to Lady Sarah’s suggestion.

  “You’re a long way from home yourself, Mr MacDuff,” Arthur Conan Doyle said. Zinnie thought he had probably spoken just to ease the sudden and awkward silence. “What brings you to our fair city?”

  “After a lifetime of my own travels, I’ve decided I need a home town and this great city has caught my imagination,” said MacDuff, apparently relieved by the change of subject. “Over the years I have collected items of such interest that it would be selfish not to share them with others, so I’ve decided to open a kind of museum. It is called the House of Wonders and it will be on George Street.”

  That made Zinnie take a new interest in MacDuff. She knew exactly where the House of Wonders was. She had walked along George Street only the day before and noticed the large corner building with the colourful, hand-painted posters outside. Everything about it had been loud, demanding the attention of passers-by.

  “Aha,” said Conan Doyle. “Yes, I have passed the place you describe. From the painted boards outside it certainly looks intriguing. Now let me see – what does it promise?” He paused with his fork in the air as he thought for a moment. “Ah yes. ‘Scientific Wonders From Far and Wide, Sights Such as Those Never Before Seen on These Shores’ – isn’t that it?”

  MacDuff smiled broadly. “Indeed, Mr Conan Doyle, indeed.”