A Dangerous Melody, page 5
We had lunch all together in the school room, which consisted of small sandwiches Mr. Able had made for us, along with some fresh spring onions and salted meats. Everything was delicious, and I found myself wishing that my sisters were with me so they, too, could enjoy these delectable creations.
Soon, though, it was time for her music lesson, and I found myself rather nervous. It wasn’t as if I had never taught someone else to play. It had just been many years since the necessity had arisen, and I hoped that I could be a valuable asset to this house.
“Are you ready, Miss Elizabeth?” I asked from the piano bench underneath the window.
Miss Elizabeth had slipped off to her dollhouse, which sat in the opposite corner. She seemed intent on her dolls, brushing their hair and fluffing their dresses. It was sweet to see, but Miss Brown had told her she could have a quarter of an hour to play, which had come and gone.
Miss Brown was seated at the writing desk near the fireplace, correcting some of Miss Elizabeth’s arithmetic questions. She turned to see Miss Elizabeth still seated in front of her doll house. “Miss Elizabeth, I believe Miss Honeyfield was speaking to you.”
Miss Elizabeth, however, seemed to have gone momentarily deaf.
Miss Brown looked over at me and shook her head. “Sometimes she does this,” she said, rising from her seat.
I held up a hand to stop her. “One moment,” I said. “Perhaps we can find a way to get her to listen.”
I turned around in my seat, and set the shiny, red apple on the corner of the piano, in plain sight for Miss Elizabeth. At the same time, I began to play a simple song, something soothing and lulling. I assumed it would make Miss Elizabeth relax and was certain it was something she was familiar with.
It wasn’t long before I heard little footsteps making their way over to where I sat, my fingers gliding across the keys.
“Miss Honeyfield, why do you have an apple?” she asked, pointing to the succulent fruit on the piano.
“For encouragement,” I said, just as I had before.
She tilted her head. “Encouragement for what?” she asked.
“For you,” I said. I slid over on the bench and pat the pink, silken fabric. “Come join me, and I’ll show you.”
Miss Elizabeth happily hopped up onto the bench, peering up at me.
“Now,” I said, lifting the apple. “We are going to play a game.”
“A game?” Miss Elizabeth asked.
I nodded. “Indeed. A game that I used to play with my sisters when they were very small. Would you like to learn it?”
“Yes, please,” Miss Elizabeth said, her eyes on the apple.
I rose from the stool and made my way to the table. There I had tucked a knife into the other handkerchief I had brought up to the school room with me.
I carried it back over to the piano and began to slice up the apple into luscious slices.
“Here is the game,” I said, setting each slice onto the clean handkerchief. “Every time you play a song correctly, or you follow my instructions without trouble, you will receive a slice of the apple. You win the game if you are able to collect all eight slices.”
“Do I get to eat them if I get them?” Miss Elizabeth asked.
“But of course,” I said. “That is what makes the game so fun.”
We were about three songs in, and already I had parted with five of my apple slices. When she put her mind to something, Miss Elizabeth truly was an angelic child.
Just as she finished a fourth song, an applause reached us from the other side of the room. She and I both turned on the bench and saw Mr. Thorne standing there with Miss Brown, watching.
“Father, did you hear?” Miss Elizabeth said excitedly, sliding down off the bench and hurrying over to him. “Did you see how well I played?”
“Indeed I did,” he said, laying a hand on her shoulder. “And it seems that Miss Honeyfield has found one of your favorite treats, hasn’t she?”
Miss Elizabeth nodded as she bit down on another slice of apple.
He looked over her head and grinned at me. He really was a kind-faced man. “Thank you very much, Miss Honeyfield. I came in to see how your first day was going, and it seems that I worried for nothing. Your experience with your many sisters certainly has paid off, has it not?”
“It certainly has taught me patience,” I said. “Miss Elizabeth was the image of studious today. She was focused and attentive.”
“I am pleased to hear it,” he said. “And I am also quite pleased that you are as talented as you are. I have no talent for music myself.”
“But you have such a great appreciation for it, sir,” Miss Brown said.
“I did not always,” he said, his smile faltering. “My wife was the one who truly loved it. It seems that her gifts have been passed on to our daughter.”
My heart sank for him. I had wondered where Mrs. Thorne might have been…
Miss Elizabeth, who had been wearing a smile just a moment before, suddenly became quite upset. “Mother… Mother loved the piano,” she said.
Then she dissolved into tears, running over to Miss Brown and throwing her arms around her waist.
Mr. Thorne’s face paled, and he watched her go with dismay. It was clear he regretted saying anything in the first place. “I should know better by now not to say anything quite so flippantly to her,” he said, straightening his coat uncomfortably. “My apologies, Miss Honeyfield. I should have more sense than that.”
“No, it’s quite all right,” I said.
“She has been so fragile since her mother’s passing last year,” he said. “As have I, to be honest. But I cannot help but wonder if some of her struggles are not because of losing her mother.”
“It is quite possible,” I said. “As sad as that is to say. And I understand perfectly what that’s like.”
“What?” Mr. Thorne asked, glancing over at me.
“Losing a mother,” I said rather simply.
My eyes were fixed on the poor girl who was crying against Miss Brown. Miss Brown was doing what she could to console her, but it was no use, it seemed.
I could feel Mr. Thorne’s gaze on my face, yet he did not any further questions, which surprised me. I was appreciative of the respect he showed me.
Even still… In that moment, I felt something, as if Mr. Thorne and I understood one another a little better than we had before.
6
The warm days of July gave way to the long days of August, where the peak of summer came and went. Every day that I awoke at Northington Park, the more I felt like I belonged there. I found time to enjoy the lovely scenery; I wandered in the gardens, picked flowers with Miss Elizabeth, and sat beneath the boughs of the apple trees in the orchard.
I learned a great many things about those that lived in Northington Park. Miss Brown, for instance, was a widow. She and her husband had been married six short years before he was killed in the war. Knowing she was likely far too old to marry again, she decided to take on the role of governess and had been serving Mr. Thorne and Miss Elizabeth for nearly five years now.
Mr. Able was quite the charitable sort of man, even when the others around him weren’t quite the same. He was always more than happy to have a chat and more often than not would allow me to sample whatever it was he was preparing for that night’s supper. I had yet to try something of his that was not excellent.
Mr. Thorne was still somewhat of a mystery to me. As much as I had seen him my first week at Northington Park, he had been far scarcer since. Miss Brown said that he was very busy, and many afternoons he was away from the manor making social calls. When we did have a chance to speak, however, he was kind and polite. But I realized that we only ever discussed his daughter. I knew nothing of him personally, save that he himself was a widower and had little musical talent. I found myself curious to know more, especially since he was my employer, and I wished to understand him, and his daughter, a bit better.
Regardless, I was finding that I was very pleased here at Northington Park.
It was a bright August morning when I sat down at my desk to write a letter to my sisters. Mr. Thorne had taken Miss Elizabeth down to town for the morning, and I found myself wanting to keep my sisters informed about what was happening.
I broke the seal on the new ink pot. I had used up the rest of what I had brought answering a letter from Aunt Patience the week before. She had asked so many questions that it had taken me three whole pieces of parchment to reply. I was grateful that Miss Brown had given me permission to take whatever I needed from the school room.
Dear Amelia, Isabella, and Susannah, I wrote.
It is hard to believe that I have been at Northington Park for six weeks already. They have certainly passed quickly, as I have had a great deal of new responsibilities to undertake. My days are becoming more familiar, and even though they are quite different from what I am used to, I must admit that I am rather enjoying the tasks I have been given.
My mornings are rather simple. I wake and have some quiet, alone time in my room where I read and perhaps write some. Then I enjoy a breakfast with Miss Brown in the kitchens. Miss Brown is the governess here at Northington Park, and she and I have quite taken a liking to one another. It is almost as if she were an elder sister, though I imagine you three would be able to attest to that fact.
Then we spend most of the day with Miss Elizabeth, our charge and student. She is quite the remarkable young girl. She is very gifted with music, almost as if she does it without thinking. She does, however, struggle in other areas, as all children do.
We have begun to understand one another, Miss Elizabeth and I. For instance, I have learned that she positively loves apples. She is also rather fond of kittens. I have told her that I quite like sweet rolls and am a bit bossy at times. We are becoming friends, albeit it slowly.
I looked up from my letter and tapped my fingers against the table. I knew that I could spend several hours compiling a letter with everything I wished to say, yet also knew that would not be the best use of my time. I did have a great deal to take care of that day, and my sisters would surely be busy as well.
It was best to keep it to the important matters.
I think I am settling in here very well. Please ensure to tell Father that I love him dearly and pray for him often. I do hope that things have been better for him, and for the rest of you, in these last weeks. The pain of losing Mother will likely never fully leave us, but perhaps, with time, it will grow easier to bear.
All my love,
Juliana
I signed the letter and read it over, ensuring I had not missed anything I wished to say. Satisfied, I sealed it with the Thorne family crest and rose from my seat to carry it down to Mr. Gibbs, who would hopefully be able to mail it today.
I spent my lunch time once again with Miss Brown. We talked literature and poetry, and other topics that I found invigorating.
“I am quite pleased to have someone to discuss these topics with,” I said as I spread a layer of soft cheese on the piece of bread I had acquired. “My sisters found it dull to speak of such things for great lengths of time.”
“Indeed,” she said. “My sisters, too, seemed more interested in fashion and art than they were about anything else. I love them dearly, but sometimes I wish for something more, yes?”
I smiled at her as I poured some milk into my tea.
A knock at the door drew our attention. “Come in,” Miss Brown said, rising to her feet.
I, too, followed her and stood as well.
The door swung inward, and Mr. Thorne stepped in with Miss Elizabeth. Upon one look at her face, I could see that she was rather displeased about something.
“Good afternoon, ladies,” Mr. Thorne said.
“Good afternoon,” Miss Brown and I said, curtseying.
“I apologize for our tardiness, but Miss Elizabeth was having a great deal of amusement in town,” Mr. Thorne said. “However, amusement turned quickly into trouble when she did not wish to accompany me home.” He gave Miss Elizabeth a sharp look.
Miss Elizabeth folded her arms and looked away, her chin pointed into the air.
He shook his head. “Mr. Garver had brought his ponies into town, and Miss Elizabeth wished to pet them. Then, Mr. Garver gave her some sugar cubes to share with them. She was delighted and wished to give them more. Mr. Garver said that the sugar was a special treat the ponies only received on occasion, but Miss Elizabeth was rather unhappy with his response. Weren’t you, Miss Elizabeth?”
Miss Elizabeth let out a rather loud “Hmph!”
Mr. Thorne looked back at Miss Brown and me. “To be quite honest, I am beside myself with her today. I apologize that I have brought her home in such a state. I fear that she may be less than agreeable during her lessons this afternoon.”
“Never you worry, Mr. Thorne,” Miss Brown said, hurrying over to Miss Elizabeth. “We will find a way to settle her down. Everything will be just fine.”
He nodded, his hands folded behind his back. “Very well,” he said. “I leave her in your capable hands, then. I must go speak with Mr. Gibbs about some letters I received today.”
He turned and left the school room.
“Father, no!” Miss Elizabeth said, throwing herself in the direction of her father’s departing back. “Please, do not leave me in here.”
“Now, Miss Elizabeth,” said Miss Brown, kneeling down in front of her. “It’s quite all right. I know that today is a bit strange, but we can still have a perfectly ordinary afternoon. What do you think?”
Miss Elizabeth’s bottom lip protruded and she dipped her head. “I want my father.”
“I understand that,” Miss Brown said. “But we must focus on our work for a little while today. Just like your father must take care of things, so should you. Can you act grown up like your father for a little while?”
Miss Elizabeth lifted her head, nodding glumly.
“There’s a good girl,” Miss Brown said, guiding her over to the school table.
Miss Brown gave me a rather exasperated look, shaking her head.
I admired her persistence. It was clear that she knew Elizabeth rather well and was able to find just the right thing to say in order to motivate her. It seemed that I still had a great deal to learn about her.
I found myself a seat at the far end of the table to wait for Miss Elizabeth’s lesson time. As I watched her and Miss Brown, though, it became quite clear that she was having a much more difficult time concentrating than usual. It was frustrating Miss Brown a great deal, and more than once I heard her use a rather sharp tone with the girl, who then would frown more deeply in reply.
Soon, though, it was time for her music lessons, and I breathed a sigh of great relief. Surely, she would be excited to sit down and play at her piano for some time, right?
I had no idea what to expect, though.
“All right, Miss Elizabeth, you may have one moment to stretch your legs before you go sit down for your piano lesson,” Miss Brown said. “I know how much you are looking forward to it, but you have been sitting so long, and—”
She looked up at the same time I did, and we both caught Miss Elizabeth staring at me with wide, round eyes.
“What is it, Miss Elizabeth?” I asked. “Are you all right?”
She didn’t appear to hear me. Her gaze was vacant, and there were dark circles under her eyes. Was she perhaps simply exhausted?
“Come along, Miss Elizabeth,” Miss Brown said, walking around the table toward her. “Let us begin your lesson. Your father will not be pleased if we are late to dinner once again.”
“No!” Miss Elizabeth shouted, and she took off across the room to the door. She grabbed onto the door handle and pulled it open, running out into the hall and beyond.
“Miss Elizabeth!” Miss Brown said, her jaw falling open. “In all my time, I have never…” She did not finish her sentence as she took off through the hall after her.
My heart leapt into my throat, and worry stripped me of any exhaustion I felt. I looked about the room, but there was nothing I could do here. I decided it was best if I went after her, as well.
I heard Miss Elizabeth shriek from further down the hall, nearer the main staircase. I hurried off after them, passing by a young maid who had stopped to stare, her eyes widened.
“Is she all right?” the maid asked.
“She will be,” I said and continued down the hall.
I could see Miss Elizabeth’s blonde curls at the far end of the eastern wing. Miss Brown was doing her best to keep up, her skirts lifted so as to not trip on the hem.
“Miss Elizabeth, please,” Miss Brown said. “You are making quite the commotion right now.”
“Father!” Miss Elizabeth cried. “Father, please! Where are you?”
She stopped at a crossroads and hurried down the left hall, Miss Brown not far behind.
I had not yet been to this part of the manor and was greeted with another long hall lined with portraits and candelabras. Miss Elizabeth was nearly at the far end, banging against a door with her tiny fists.
“Father!” she yelled.
“Miss Elizabeth, please,” Miss Brown said. “You don’t need to—”
“What is going on here?” came a voice through the door that Miss Elizabeth was banging on.
I came to a stop nearby.
Miss Brown laid her hands on Miss Elizabeth’s shoulders, but Miss Elizabeth thrashed and shoved her hands away. “No!” Miss Elizabeth yelled.
The door swung inward, and Mr. Thorne stepped out.
“Elizabeth, dear, what is the matter?” he asked, looking down at her. “What has you so agitated?”
She threw her arms around his waist and began to sob. “I don’t want to. I don’t want to!” she said.
“You don’t want to do what, dear?” Mr. Thorne said.
I glanced over his shoulder and saw a room behind Mr. Thorne. It was not a room that I had seen before. Mr. Thorne’s study was beside the library, yet the room beyond seemed to be something akin to an office of some sort. Books were stacked on shelves along the back wall, but there were also trinkets that I could not quite make out from that distance. Along the closer wall, a sword hung on a plaque, sheathed, yet it looked quite old. I thought I had also caught a glimpse of an old military jacket of some sort hanging on a peg.
