A Proper Lover (Ganymede Quartet Book 2) (43 page)

“Martin helped me pick it out,” he told her. “It’s from both of us.” Nurse, he thought, would not look askance at this assertion.

“Can I open it?” She held her hands out for the package, fingers wiggling in anticipation.

Henry looked at Nurse, who frowned and shook her head.

“Let’s wait until we’ve had cake, Miss. You’ve so been looking forward to your cake.”

“When are we having cake, then?” Cora asked. “Can we have it now, Nurse?”

“How do we ask for things, Miss?”

A flicker of annoyance passed over Cora’s face, balking at rules. “We say please.
Please
can we have cake now?”

Nurse smiled and stroked her hair. “I’ll call downstairs, Miss, and have them bring it up for you.”

While Nurse went to use the house phone, Cora took Henry by the hand and pulled him deeper into the room and Martin followed, pausing en route to put the birthday present down on the nursery table.

There were dolls everywhere, and doll furniture, and plush toys. It appeared as though everything that had been heaped on Henry’s old bed on their last visit had been spread across the floor. Cora led them to the spot near the cabinet house where it seemed she did most of her playing. Baby Ann lay naked in the middle of a circle of dolls, also naked, that leaned into one another and sat with splayed legs on the linoleum.

“All those others are some toys I wasn’t playing with any more,” Cora explained. “Nurse said I should give them to charity, but I had to play with them all again just to be sure I’m really done with them.”

“What did you decide, Miss?” Martin asked, lowering himself to sit cross-legged on the floor beside Baby Ann and the rest of the naked dolls. “Are you finished with those old toys now?”

“It would be very nice of me to give them to charity, wouldn’t it, Martin?” Cora plopped down beside Martin and looked up earnestly into his face.

Martin laughed, but not unkindly. “It would indeed, Miss. There are lots of little girls who’d be happy to love your old toys.”

Henry wasn’t so sure. Cora was very hard on her dolls, in his opinion, and even those she favored looked somewhat grotesque and witchy, with snarled hair, torn dresses, and grubby fingerprints marking their bisque faces. They looked better suited to the refuse heap than some less-fortunate girl’s arms, in Henry’s estimation. However, he did not think this opinion would be well-received and so kept it to himself. He pushed a stuffed lion with dusty fur aside with the toe of his boot and sat on the floor in the space he’d made.

“Why are all your dolls naked?” Henry asked, gesturing toward Baby Ann and her audience.

Cora frowned. “You shouldn’t be
looking
, Henry!” She leaned sideways and snagged a ratty blanket with her fingertips and threw it over the grouping of dolls. With deep disapproval in her tone, she said, “You’re supposed to be a gentleman, Henry. You shouldn’t have noticed.”

Martin tried not to laugh and Henry shot him a sidelong glare. “It was hard not to notice, Cora. They’re sitting right out in the open.”

“
Martin
didn’t look,” she pointed out.

Technically, it was only that Martin hadn’t said anything, not that he hadn’t looked, but Henry would not argue the point with Cora. “Well, Martin’s a better gentleman than me,” Henry told her. “But, anyway, why are all your dolls lying around naked?”

“They all got lice,” Cora explained, “and their laundress is boiling the clothes.” She pointed to a tableau in the corner, a floppy cloth clown slumped next to an enameled basin full of doll dresses.

“Oh. Well.” Henry didn’t know how to respond to this. How did Cora even know about lice?

“That’s very unfortunate, isn’t it, Miss? Has Baby Ann been itching terribly much?” Martin managed to seem so interested, so unruffled by what Henry found to be very unnerving play on Cora’s part. Henry didn’t recall that he’d ever played at diseases, at
infestations
.

Cora’s face lit up at Martin’s mention of Baby Ann, clearly delighted that he remembered her dolls. “She
has
. She’s been so itchy, Martin! She scratched until she
bled
.” Cora seemed delighted to relate this.

“Miss, really,” Nurse said with a sigh and a shake of her head. “Paul’s coming up directly with your cake, Miss. Shall we clear a path for the cart?”

With a put-upon sigh, Cora got to her feet and began to move dolls and toys aside, pushing things out of the way with her boots and moving a few armloads of detritus to Henry’s old bed. Nurse did most of the work, of course, and cleared off the top of the table to make room for the cake, moving Cora’s present to her bed.

Henry leaned closer to Martin and out of the side of his mouth asked, “Isn’t that a little weird? That she’s playing all the dolls have lice?”

Martin grinned. “It’s funny, isn’t it, Sir? She’s very imaginative.” He seemed very unbothered, so Henry resolved to let it bother him less, then, if he could manage it.

They all heard the rattle of the elevator grille opening at the end of the hall and Nurse went to open the door. Martin got to his feet and held his hand out to help Henry up.

Paul wheeled in a pink-frosted cake with eight candles ready to be lit. Cora could not be still, twirling and clapping her hands and throwing herself first against Martin, then Henry, in her excitement, leaning against their legs and tugging at their hands. Paul withdrew with a polite bow, and Nurse put the cake on the table and stood ready with a box of matches.

“Miss, if you want, we can light your candles now.”

“Yes, please!” Cora went to the table and leaned over the cake, ready to blow.

“You have to stand back a bit, Miss. I don’t want you to catch your hair on fire!” She turned to Henry. “Sir, could you…?”

Henry didn’t know what she wanted, but Martin did. He went to stand behind Cora, his hands on her shoulders as a friendly reminder that she shouldn’t lunge into the path of open flame. “Pink icing, Miss,” Martin said in an admiring tone. “That’s quite fancy, isn’t it?”

“Pink is my second-favorite color,” Cora informed him.

“What’s your first-favorite, Miss?”

“Green,” Cora said. “What’s yours?”

“I rather like purple, Miss.”

Henry had not known this, and wished he had ever thought to ask Martin the question.

All of the candles were lit, making a penumbra of warm, wavering light around the cake.

“All right, Miss,” Nurse said. “Everything is ready. You must hold your hair back, though, to keep it out of the flames.”

“Can I make a wish now, Nurse?” Cora asked eagerly.

“Of course. Happy Birthday, Miss. I love you very much.”

“I love you, too, Nurse.”

“Happy Birthday, Miss,” Martin said, and at the same time Henry said, “Happy Birthday, Cora.”

Cora gulped in a deep breath, closed her eyes, then let the air out with force, blowing out seven of eight candles. She took in another quick breath and blew out the last one and said, “I got them all! Did you see?” and they all pretended she had.

Nurse cut the cake, making especially generous slices for the boys and more modest ones for herself and Cora. Henry and Martin both took seats at the low table; the child-sized furniture was not a good fit for such lanky people, and Henry thought they must look quite ridiculous.

“It’s
my
birthday.” Cora frowned at her still-generous piece of cake. “Why does Henry get more cake on
my
birthday?”

“Your brother and Martin are much bigger than you, Miss, and they need more food. If you want more cake after dinner, you can have more then.”

“I
will
want more,” Cora said with confidence.

The cake was sweet chocolate with a rose-flavored icing, which Henry thought rather sophisticated for an 8-year-old’s palate, but Cora seemed to love it.

“Oh, yes, Sir, Little Miss eats a great many flower-flavored treats,” Nurse told him. “Cook very kindly indulges her tastes. She’s also fond of violet shortbread.”

“
I
want to try it,” Henry said, feeling left out and even a little hurt. “I didn’t even know anything like that was being made.”

“I’ll ask Cook to let me know next time, Sir,” Martin said soothingly, giving Henry’s forearm a little squeeze. “I’ll ask her to make enough for you to have some, too.”

“It’s very good, Henry,” Cora told him. “It really tastes like flowers.”

Henry and Cora both finished their cake; Nurse and Martin ate more slowly. Henry slid from his ill-fitting chair to sit on the floor and Cora came around the table to join him. He sat with his legs stretched out in front of him, leaning back on his hands, and Cora sat close at his side. They were both in good position to watch Martin eat. Martin glanced up and smiled at them, and Cora gave a happy little wriggle and beamed at him. It was embarrassing how much Henry related to Cora’s adulation.

“Martin? When is your birthday?”

“It’s in June, Miss.”

“Henry? Isn’t your birthday in June, too?”

“Yes, four days after Martin’s.”

“So Martin is
older
than you?” Cora seemed shocked.

“Well, yes—by four days, Cora. So not by much.”

“Companions can be
older
than masters?”

“Lots of them are,” Henry told her.

She seemed flabbergasted.

“I don’t see that it makes any difference,” Henry said. “Masters and companions are always close in age. It doesn’t matter who’s older.”

“When I get my own slave,” Cora said in a low tone, giving Nurse a sidelong glance as if she thought Nurse would scold her for having the preference, “I want her to be
younger
than me. Can I do that, Henry?”

“If it’s important to you, you can. But I don’t think it will matter very much to you when you’re 16. You’ll just want to have a slave you like, someone you’ll get along with, and it won’t matter when her birthday is.”

“Celeste is older than me,” Cora said. “My mean friend Celeste. She always gets her way because she’s older.”

“I think Celeste actually gets her way because she’s a bully, not because of her birthday,” Henry remarked.

Martin put down his fork, and Nurse set hers on her plate and dabbed at her mouth with a napkin. Martin got down from his chair and sat cross-legged on the floor, his bent knee touching Henry’s ankle, but got up again right away when Nurse asked for his help in bringing the heavy present down from the bed. He set it on the floor before Cora with a soft thud.

“Happy Birthday, Miss,” Martin said, giving her the sort of smile that was usually reserved for Henry.

“May I
please
open it now, Nurse?” Cora asked hopefully.

“Yes, you may, Miss.” Nurse knelt down next to Cora, tucking her skirts around her knees.

Cora fell upon the package, her movements a little frantic. It was necessary for Nurse to get the sharp scissors from their special cupboard to cut the ribbon, but after that Cora made short work of the wrapping paper. The large color label on the lid of the box showed a circus scene with ringmaster, clown, elephant and tiger.

“Circus!” Cora flapped her hands, giddy and overjoyed. “I love circuses! But what is it?”

Henry laughed. “Open the box and see.”

She opened the lid and shrieked with delight when she saw the little wooden people in their colorful costumes, the brightly-painted animals, and all the accessories that made it much like a real circus—a circus ring, balls and barrels, pedestals for the elephants to stand on, a high wire for the acrobats, and a big top tent. It was every bit as charming as Henry remembered and, with a pang of regret, he realized that the little circus would be subject to Cora’s harsh treatment and would likely lose its luster in short order.

“Look, Miss,” Martin said, leaning over the box and pointing. “Did you see the dancing bear?”

Cora gave a shriek of glee and grabbed for the bear which, like all the other figures, was tied into the box. Nurse used her scissors again to cut the bear loose, and set to freeing all the members of the circus while Cora exclaimed over her bear.

“Do you like it?” Henry asked, knowing that she did.

Cora looked at him, eyes shining. “I
love
it! It’s the best present ever!”

They took the box over to where Baby Ann and the rest of the dolls lay under their modesty blanket. Cora shoved them carelessly aside, making room for her circus. Nurse and Henry set up the tent while Cora and Martin set out the rest of the contents of the box in neat rows. Henry and Martin both helped Cora set up a scene with a lady acrobat standing on the back of a horse, a gentleman acrobat walking on the high wire, the elephant on its hind legs on a red-and-gold pedestal, and the dancing bear front and center with the animal tamer and ringmaster both admiring its performance.

“What about clowns?” Henry asked, surveying the scene. “Shouldn’t there be clowns?”

Everything was rearranged to make room for a trio of cavorting clowns. It really was a wonderful toy. The only thing missing was an audience, and when Henry pointed this out, Cora quickly salvaged her bedraggled dolls from beneath the blanket and set them in two rows in front of the tableau. It did not seem to bother Cora that they were all three or four times the size of the circus performers, but Henry thought the size disparity a little unsettling, especially in tandem with their nudity and their general impression of having undergone something harrowing.

Having admired this arrangement for a few minutes, Cora needed to make adjustments, then substitutions, then took all of the figures out of the tent and began from scratch. She enlisted Martin’s help, but did not seem to need anything from either Henry or Nurse.

“It’s a lovely set, Sir,” Nurse murmured. “I fear she won’t be as careful as it deserves, though.”

“I thought of that, too,” Henry said. “I guess if I want to keep it nice, I’ll have to buy my own.”

Nurse chuckled. “You were always quite careful with your toys, Sir. Little boys are supposed to be rough, but you were always very gentle.”

Henry frowned. He’d always been unusual, unmanly.

“Most of your toys were given to charity to make way for Little Miss’ things, Sir, but I did save something of yours. Would you like to see it?”