“Girls, girls.” Mother Grace held up her hands, stopping the argument. “This is no way to behave when you’ve just returned home. You should welcome your father’s bride, not make things difficult for her.”
“Yes, Grandmama,” both Mary and Molly said.
In the midst of the awkward feeling that Matty had no business being present for such an intimate family conversation, a thought startled her. She’d always assumed that the Pycroft girls referred to Mother Grace as Grandmama because Dr. Pycroft and his friends had always called her “Mother”. But what if there were more to it than that? The book in Mother Grace’s chest that had belonged to John Keegan was a medical book. What if he’d been a doctor? What if medicine ran in his blood? What if Mother Grace really was the Pycroft girls’ grandmother?
“If you will excuse me,” Matty said, pushing herself forward and struggling to stand. Elsie jumped up from where she was playing with Martha to help her. “I should find Lawrence now.”
“You can’t go yet,” Mary said, looking as though she was on the verge of losing her one ally.
“It doesn’t feel right intruding at the moment,” Matty told her with a sympathetic look.
“You’re not intruding,” Mary insisted. “Besides, you’re like family.”
“All the same,” Matty said, resting a hand on Elsie’s head, “I should go to Lawrence. He wasn’t very keen to let me out of his sight to begin with.”
“I imagine not,” Marshall said, turning to fetch her coat from the crowded row of pegs in the hall for her.
“Are you staying for supper, Mother Grace?” Alexandra asked, sending Matty an apologetic smile as they crossed halfway through the parlor.
“Yes, do stay for supper,” Mary said, louder than Alexandra.
Matty reached Marshall, who met her wary look with one of his own. “Sorry,” he murmured as he held her coat and escorted her to the door.
“I’m sure things will resolve themselves in time,” Matty whispered back.
“Let’s hope so.” They walked to the door, but before Marshall could reach for the doorknob, Matty asked, “Dr. Pycroft, do you know anything at all about your father?”
Marshall missed the doorknob as he straightened and faced her. “My father?” He glanced over Matty’s shoulder and into the parlor, where the stand-off between Mary and Alexandra over Mother Grace and supper continued. “Whatever makes you ask that?”
Matty felt heat rise to her face. She couldn’t admit her suspicions to Marshall, not without more evidence to back them up. “I’m simply curious is all,” she said, lowering her head and blushing.
Marshall shrugged. “I know nothing about my origins. I was brought to the orphanage as a newborn, same as dozens of other children who were raised there.”
“So you know nothing at all?” Matty chewed her lip.
“Nothing.” Marshall paused. “I’m sorry I can’t satisfy your curiosity.”
“It’s all right.” Matty did her best to smile. “I shouldn’t have pried to begin with.”
“Not at all,” Marshall said, reaching for the door.
Matty was happy to rush out into the cold dusk. A burst of chill air was just what she needed to quell the embarrassment she felt, both over asking impertinent questions and being a part of such a sensitive family argument. She would have to find a way to make it up to every one of the Pycrofts, and she was determined not to take sides between Mary and Alexandra in the future.
She’d made it halfway down the dim street before realizing that Elsie had followed her to the door, but she’d forgotten to hug her sister goodbye. It was a startling oversight, and one that left Matty cursing herself for being so callous. She turned back to the Pycroft house, spotting Elsie in the window, watching her.
But before she could start back to the house, a thick arm grabbed her around her middle above her belly, and a hand clapped over her mouth. The scent of charred flesh filled her nostrils, even though she knew it couldn’t possibly be there. The bulk of the body behind her, the scent of his clothes and skin, and the snarling laughter that rang in her ear was enough to spark her sense memory. Hoag.
“I’ve got you, missy,” he growled, jerking her to the side and dragging her toward the dark alley half a block away from the Pycroft house. “And now you’re going to pay.”
Episode Eight - A Deadly Encounter
Marshall
Marshall shut the door behind Matty and turned away, his brow falling into a puzzled frown. What had Matty’s questions been about? He hadn’t given a second thought to his origins for years, not in any serious way. But there had been a look in Matty’s eyes, almost as if she knew something he didn’t.
“That was your fault, you know.” Mary’s accusation snapped Marshall out of his thoughts.
He glanced up to find Mary with her arms crossed, glaring at Alex.
“I beg your pardon?” Alex asked, blinking rapidly.
Marshall left the hall to stand by Alex’s side in the parlor. He noticed Elsie moving to the window beside the front door as he did, but gave it very little thought.
“If you hadn’t been so rude, Matty never would have left,” Mary went on, tilting her chin up.
“My behavior was rude?” Alex shook her head. Marshall knew her well enough to know she was trying her hardest not to sink to Mary’s level. He wouldn’t have blamed her if she had, though.
“You were standoffish,” Mary said, looking as though she was building a head of steam for a long argument. “You—”
“I think I will stay for supper,” Mother Grace interrupted just as Marshall opened his mouth to scold Mary into next Tuesday.
“And I think I will have a talk with you while Mother Grace and the younger girls set the table,” Marshall said. He sent a commanding glance Mother Grace’s way.
For a change, Mother Grace did as he wanted her to and stood, reaching for Molly’s hand. “Come along, girls. Let’s set the table.” She returned his glance with a knowing one as she led the younger girls out of the room.
As soon as they were gone, Marshall drew in a breath and faced Mary.
“You’re going to take her side, aren’t you?” Mary asked before he could get the words out. She sent a peevish look to Alex. “You’re always going to take her side from now on. You don’t care about me anymore.”
“This doesn’t have to be a war,” Alex said, rubbing her forehead in frustration.
“I’m not taking anyone’s side,” Marshall said, frowning at Mary. “And I will always love you with my whole heart. This is not a situation of sides, it’s about common decency and getting along as a family.”
In the hall behind him, one of the younger girls let out a strangled yelp. Marshall ignored it in favor of the situation in front of him.
“She’s not a part of our family,” Mary insisted, pointing at Alex. “She’s new.”
“Alex is my wife now,” Marshall insisted.
“Alex is a boy’s name,” Mary grumbled.
“I know we can all get along as one family,” Alex said, though there was a degree of wariness in her eyes that said this was not the conversation she wanted to have just then. “It will take some adjustments, though.”
Another soft yelp sounded from the hall, followed by a scrape. Elsie ran into the room, her eyes wide with panic.
Marshall glanced curiously at her, but the argument in front of him seemed more important. “I’m surprised at your behavior, Mary,” he said. “You’ve always liked Alex.”
“I have not,” Mary insisted, though her guilty expression betrayed otherwise. “She’s not my mother.”
“I never claimed to be,” Alex said, softening her voice to a sympathetic tone. “I do want us to be friends, though.”
“You’re not my friend,” Mary sniffed. “Matty is my friend, and you chased her away.”
“She did no such thing,” Marshall said.
Elsie grabbed the hem of his coat and tugged. Her eyes were wide with fear. Marshall rested a ha
nd on her head the way he did when his girls were upset about something, but before he could say anything, Mary blustered on.
“I know what the two of you do when you think we’re asleep,” she said, her face turning pink. “I hear you, and I know what it means.”
Alex turned bright red and fidgeted as though she didn’t know where to look or what to do.
Marshall went hot with embarrassment. He cleared his throat. “There are things between a man and his wife, things between Alex and I, which are private.”
“And I know what they are now,” Mary said, raising her voice. “Olive told me.”
Marshall frowned, half at his daughter’s revelation and half because Elsie was tugging on his jacket with both hands now. “Who is Olive?”
Mary glanced down. “One of Grandfather’s maids. She told me all about how men stick their things in women, and I think it’s disgusting.” She hurled the last words at Alex as though she thought it were Alex’s fault.
“I’m sure there’s far more to it than what Olive told you,” Alex said, sending Marshall an uncertain look. “I would be happy to answer any questions you have, though. Perhaps you are experiencing changes that you’d like to make sense of? I am a doctor, after all.”
Mary looked momentarily hopeful before scowling again. “You’re doing foul things with my papa. I don’t want to talk to you about anything.”
“Those things are not foul, poppet,” Marshall said. “They are a good and natural part of any relationship between—Elsie, would you please stop?”
Marshall glanced down at the girl, trying not to be exasperated. Elsie looked more desperate than ever. She let out a long, terrified moan.
“I think something’s wrong,” Alex said, stepping away from Mary and sitting on the edge of the sofa so she could look Elsie in the eye. “What is it, dear?”
Elsie left Marshall and grabbed Alex’s hand, tugging her to stand. Alex sent Marshall a puzzled look as Elsie dragged her across the parlor and into the hall. Marshall followed. As soon as they were in the hall, Elsie dropped Alex’s hand and reached for the doorknob. It was too big for her, but she managed to turn it all the same. A blast of cold air wafted into the house as the door opened.
“No, dear,” Marshall said, reaching over Elsie’s head to close the door. “It’s too cold to go out.”
To Marshall’s shock, Elsie emitted a high-pitched shriek of desperation and clawed at her hair.
“It’s all right, sweetheart, it’s all right,” Alex said, dropping to a squat and pulling Elsie into her arms. “There’s nothing out there.”
Elsie’s fit grew worse. She flailed and struggled in Alex’s arms, making guttural sounds.
“What’s going on here?” Mother Grace asked, stepping into the hall.
“Elsie’s having a fit,” Mary said, eyes wide with alarm.
“What is it?” Mother Grace asked.
Elsie broke away from Alex and flew to Mother Grace. Marshall expected the tiny girl to hug Mother Grace for comfort, but instead she grabbed at her hands and pointed desperately to the door, her strange sounds increasing.
“It’s Matty, isn’t it?” Mother Grace asked.
Elsie let out a cry of victory and attempted to pull Mother Grace to the door.
“She’s gone to find Lawrence,” Marshall said. “She’s probably at the hotel by now.”
Elsie shook her head furiously, pointing with even more urgency at the door. Marshall obliged by opening it for her. Elsie dragged Mother Grace out into the frosty evening. Her sounds were animalistic as she pointed not up the street toward the hotel, but to a dark side street.
“Did you see something?” Mother Grace asked.
A deep sense of foreboding filled Marshall’s gut as Elsie nodded and continued pointing. Her lips pinched together then opened repeatedly, as though she were trying to form words.
“This isn’t good,” Alex spoke Marshall’s thoughts aloud as she stood by his side, hugging herself against the cold.
“Did you see something happen to Matty?” Marshall asked. “Did she fall?”
Elsie’s face lit as though he’d hit on something, then fell. “P—”
“What is it, dear?” Mother Grace asked. “What did you see?”
Terror filled the girl’s eyes as she fought to speak. “P—P—Papa.”
All at once, the bottom dropped out of Marshall’s stomach as he realized what had happened. “Hoag,” he said, then swallowed hard. “You saw Hoag, didn’t you?”
Elsie nodded and burst into tears.
“He has her,” Mother Grace whispered.
Elsie nodded harder and flung herself into Mother Grace’s arms.
“Dear God,” Alex gasped, pressing a hand to her heart.
Marshall didn’t hesitate. He jumped back into the house to fetch his coat, then rushed out into the frigid evening as he put it on. “Keep everyone in the house,” he ordered. “Lock the doors. I’m going to the hotel.”
He didn’t wait to make sure he was obeyed. Both Alex and Mother Grace understood the situation well enough to know what to do. Marshall ran as fast as his legs would carry him up the hill and across the center of town. He barely watched where he was going as he crossed the intersection where Clara had died and shot on down Lake Street.
The hotel looked cheery and cozy as he tore through the gates and up the path to the door. He crossed paths with a few guests on their way out for the night as he flung open the door and rushed inside.
“Where’s Lawrence?” he panted as he skidded to a stop in the lobby. “And Jason.”
“They’re in the dining room,” Daniel said from behind the desk. “But—”
Marshall didn’t wait to hear what else he had to say. He dashed to the side and into the dining room. Fortunately, Lawrence, Jason, and two men Marshall didn’t recognize sat at a table just inside the room.
“Hoag’s taken Matty,” he said as fast as he could.
Instantly, Marshall and Jason leapt to their feet, the full impact of the words clear in their expressions. The man beside Lawrence, a swarthy fellow in the colorful clothes of the Romani, leapt to his feet as well, leaving the fourth man gaping.
“When? Where?” Lawrence asked.
“Just now. By my house,” Marshall panted, pressing the stitch in his side. “Elsie must have seen it happen, but she had a hard time telling us.”
“Did she see where they went?” Lawrence took a step closer to him, the Romani man right behind him.
“She pointed to an alley, Hart Street,” Marshall said.
Lawrence nodded once, then shot out of the dining room.
Marshall and Jason turned to go with them, but were stopped when the fourth man stood from the table and said, “I say, what’s going on here?”
“It’s none of your concern, Armstrong,” Jason told him, then turned to Marshall. “We might need weapons.”
“Weapons?” Armstrong gaped at them. “Surely this is a matter for the police then.”
“No police,” Marshall said. Instinct alone told him they would be a bad idea at this point. Constable Burnell was a nuisance more often than not, and no one on the Brynthwaite police force had kind feelings toward Lawrence, Matty, or Matty’s family.
“But surely they are exactly who is needed,” Armstrong argued. “I’ll fetch them myself if you—”
“No,” Marshall and Jason said simultaneously, both of them stepping into Armstrong’s path as he stepped around the table.
Armstrong flinched so hard Marshall thought he’d fall over. “Well, I…I….” he stammered, looking like a fish on land. “If you think that’s best.”
“It is best,” Marshall said. “Believe me.”
Jason ignored Armstrong and turned to Marshall, lowering his voice. “I have several revolvers in a safe in my office. We’ll probably need them.”
“I don’t know how to use one,” Marshall confessed.
Jason thumped his shoulder and turned him toward the lobby. “All you do
is point, cock, and shoot. Guns are so advanced these days that even a child could use one.”
As they stepped into the hall, Flossie came out of the office, a confused frown on her face. “What’s going on?”
“Someone’s been kidnapped,” Armstrong announced in a voice loud enough to inform the entire hotel. He added, “How exciting.”
Marshall scowled at him, then glanced to Jason. “Can you keep him under control?” he asked.
“I’ll have to,” Jason said. He started for the desk. “Flossie, fetch me the revolvers from the safe.” Flossie gasped, then rushed back into the office without a word. Jason followed her, turning back to Marshall as he reached the office door. “We can catch up to Lawrence and Barsali as soon as—”
“I found you.”
A new, frantic voice cracked into the scene. Marshall recognized it instantly and whipped around to find Winnie staggering through the hotel’s front door.
“Winnie, what in the Devil’s name are you doing here?” Every last one of Marshall’s nerves bristled as he broke away from Jason to approach her.
“You thought you could hide from me,” Winnie said, her voice high-pitched and strained, “but I found you. I’ve been watching you, and I followed you here.”
Marshall strode up to her, grabbing her by the arms. “You’ve been watching me? Did you see Hoag? Did you see where he took Matty?”
Winnie gaped at him, her eye glassy and wide. The patch over her other eye was askew, her hair was a mess, and her lips were blue with cold. “It’s you I want, not some other man,” she said.
“But did you see them?” Marshall shook her slightly, his hope of a rational answer sinking by the moment. “Did you see which way Hoag took her?”
“I could never look at another man ever again,” Winnie squeaked. “And I know you love me too. I know you came here, to the hotel, to be with me. That’s why I followed you.”
Marshall clenched his jaw and squeezed his eyes shut, pushing away from her. He let out an irritated breath, then ran a hand through his hair. “Winnie, there isn’t time for this. A woman has been kidnapped and her life is in danger.”
The Brynthwaite Boys: Season Two - Part Two Page 19