His Black Wings (12 page)

“But now, I am hopeful and it is a grand morning.”

He guided me into the right side of the house and opened the door. The dining room had paned windows that let in the wonderful light from outside. A long, dark wood table was positioned in the center of the dining room. Another fireplace, this one with two small Corinthian styled columns on either side of it, stood on the far wall. Made of polished cherry wood, the fireplace was situated at presumably the head of the table. A grand mirror with delicate filigree hung above the mantel. A dark cherry wood side board with its many drawers and large surface for serving, stood over to the right of the dining room table. Mr. Lowood pulled out my chair but must have noticed me looking at the door in the room.

“Ah, that door leads to the main hall which we just were in. Having two doors to the dining room makes it easier for the servants to come in and serve large parties. This door,” he said pointing to the door we came in through, “is where the guests can come in from the front door.” He pushed my chair in and walked around to his seat.

“That door,” he said and pointed to his left, “is closer to the kitchen. I promised to give you the grand tour and I will. Right after breakfast.”

Mrs. Whitby, I can only presume, had put out a beautiful assortment of fruits, muffins, hot cakes and vegetarian sausages, (the Grand Council had outlawed meat consumption due to its detrimental effects on ones heath. The meat that has been consumed until now has been derived from plants).As we ate he told me about the area and surrounding woods.

“The house sits on forty acres. We do have animals on the grounds, keep this in mind if you and Naza go exploring. There is rabbit, deer, various fowl, perhaps a bear or two.” He chuckled at this. After breakfast he showed me around the rest of the house with the exception of his son’s room and the tower room which was locked. He tried jiggling the door handle, but it remained locked.

“I don’t know why it’s locked. We usually keep it unlocked.” He shrugged and led me back down the staircase from the tower room.

“From the tower room, one can go out on to the roof. It’s a very nice view, one that I haven’t seen myself in awhile. I’ll get the key from Mrs. Whitby later.”

Mr. Lowood showed me the stables and introduced me to all his horses. He had named each one after a particular sweet pastry.

“This is Cupcake.” He said as he stroked a white mare’s nose. He led me to the next one.

“This one is Doughnut.” He said and chuckled. I was surprised at the names he had given his horses.

“Oh, they all have their grand names to flaunt their proud lineage, but it was my son who named them when he was a younger.” He grew still and looked at the horse he was stroking sadly.

“When he, Etrigan, was just a boy,” he continued in a far off sort of voice, “he was happy. He used to run around singing and laughing. But all that changed after his mother died and her relatives started giving us problems.”

“So that was true then, what you said about his mother dying when he was a child and her relatives thinking you had something to do with it?”

“Yes, sadly it is true. I found it necessary to bring him here far away from his relatives which had never seen him, since…well, his deformity. His mother wanted to protect him against cruel people, even her own relatives who would not have understood I suppose.”

We walked out of the stable in to the afternoon sunlight. The air was sweet and fresh and even though Mr. Lowood was relating something sad to me I felt at ease. Usually things that were unjust or sad made me feel powerless and distraught. I would take them to heart and mull over them at night. My father used to call me a
Wurtle
, the title of a story he used to read to me when I was a little girl about a turtle who worried all the time. Perhaps, even though I had not been here long, I was feeling more at ease in general with my host and surroundings. I loved the rural setting of the house, my spacious rooms and the friendly staff. I felt that perhaps things were changing for the better for me and this was somewhere I could finally feel safe. Mr. Lowood continued his story.

“I assume that I really wanted to protect him as she did, so I bought this place and whisked him away.” He gazed at the house and lawns and smiled wistfully.

“You know, I liked the way this house looked but it was its name that sold me. It seemed terribly romantic and old fashioned in a sense.” Mr. Lowood murmured.

“The house has a name? I can’t recall if you  mentioned it before.” I replied. He nodded and pointed to the trees that served as a wind break.

“Note how at any time of the day, or night for that matter, you can come out doors and witness the trees moving to and fro.” He pointed a grey gloved finger towards the trees now. I followed his gaze to the trees. At this moment they were gently swaying in an unseen breeze.

“There is always a wind that is blowing here from the west. The lane one must travel to get here is aptly named Westwind Lane. So naturally the house is called Westwind.” He smiled triumphantly as if finally revealing a great secret. I had to smile in return at my benefactor’s pleasure.

“I hope that there might be a chance you can be happy here.” I nodded. This seemed to be a recurring theme for him I sensed. He wanted all those around him to be content. Mr. Lowood reached up and scratched his temple.

“Now where was I?” He knitted his brows and looked at the ground in earnest effort to recollect where he had been in his story about his son that I had yet to meet. He snapped his fingers as best as he could in gloves and smiled.

“Yes! My son, he grew up here from five years of age. The servants we have, have been here since then. The younger men you may see, like that fellow,” he pointed to a robust looking young man walking in to the servants’ entrance of the house, “that is Thomas’s grandson, or a relative of the Whitby’s. They all know that Etrigan is here but they have never seen him either. He hides even from them.”

“So how does he eat or take exercise? Surely that cannot be healthy to always be shuttered away?” I asked. Mr. Lowood shrugged.

“He eats when he feels like it, goes out when he feels like it I presume, but really I do not know.”

“Surely, he can’t be happy.” I said in a low voice. I spied Mrs. Whitby’s plump form come out from the back of the house. She waved a dish rag at us.

“Ah, your curtain samples must be here. I have kept you out here long enough for today. We should go in.” Mr. Lowood once again took my arm and guided me in to the house.

I spent the afternoon picking out curtain samples for my room with a merchant from the closest town. According to Mrs. Whitby, the town was twenty minutes by carriage and forty by foot. After the fabric merchant left, Mrs. Whitby stayed behind to review my choices. I was left with the samples, but the merchant would be back in a weeks’ time to hang the drapes.

“Oh this is a lovely pattern Miss. It’s not too thick, but not too thin either. Should do nicely for the winter as well.”

“I was looking for something that matches the room.” She nodded and turned her lip down as what I noted was her habit.

“Good choice Miss. So are you getting settled in then? Do you like Westwind House?” I smiled since Mr. Lowood had just related the name of the house to me.

“Yes, very much so. You have all been so kind to me. My rooms are lovely and the food is delicious. How could I not be happy here.” Mrs. Whitby patted my arm.

“I’m so glad you like it here Miss. I have to say we were a might surprised when the Master sent us word to make this room ship shape for a guest. This room has been empty since the beginning.” Mrs. Whitby walked around the room looking for things to tidy up but she seemed hesitant as if wanting to ask me something. She touched the still bare fireplace mantle and turned her mouth down.

“Oh, we need to get the duster in here. Dust collects so quickly in the countryside it does.”

“Oh, please don’t bother with that Mrs. Whitby. I can do the tidying up and dusting in here.” I had never a maid to clean up my room or personal belongings. The rest of the house I was fine with, but maids move and hide things. Then they get upset when you question them as to their whereabouts. I am not referring to valuable things either, everyday things that you need to use such as hairbrushes would go missing.

“Fie fie! You hardly create any sort of mess. I would be remiss of my duty if I didn’t do any sort of housekeeping up here.” She turned and looked at me and smiled warmly. “Besides Miss, you are no trouble at all. I am glad to have the work to do. If it wasn’t for you I would be following my grandson around the stables bothering him.”

“Are you lonely out here?” I asked

“Not as lonely as I would be without my Thomas or my little Timothy. He works the stables, grooms the horses and the like. It’s a long work day but I’ve come to see Westwind as my second home. The Master has always been kind and more than generous to us. Most employers would have fired my Thomas straight away when he lost his hearing.”

“But Mr. Lowood kept him on?” I inquired.

“That he did and then some. One of the Master’s horses caught a fright during a fearsome storm we had. It kicked out of the stable and my Thomas lit out after it. He found it after several hours. The horse and Thomas caught pneumonia. The poor beast died even though the Master had the best horse doctor flown in.” The smell of baking muffins wafted up the stairs and in to the room.

“I was looking after Thomas at our cottage and a team of doctors descended upon us. The Master had no less than five doctors at our home caring for Thomas. I had to move out of my own bedroom! Thomas got better and in a months’ time was back at work but he had lost his hearing in one ear because of an ear infection. He carries on a lighter version of his duties now.”

“That was very generous of Mr. Lowood.” I said impressed by his generosity. Mrs. Whitby put her plump hand to her chin and looked down at me from where I sat on my bed.

“That is not even the whole of it Miss. He not only paid for those five doctors to come out, paid for their service but he also paid to have them put up in the finest hotel in the city and transportation. I remember the first night he was in the same room with Thomas and the doctors and he was a sight. His horse had just died and he came in looking fierce and wild and grabs a hold of the first doctor he can.” Mrs. Whitby squinted her eyes and reached up her hands grabbing an imaginary person.

“I won’t have you mucking about and making this poor man anymore ill than he already is. The five of you are the best doctors in the country. If I am paying out for a miracle; I damn well better receive one.” She dropped her hands and her fierce imitation of Mr. Lowood and smiled.

“And wouldn’t you know it? He then takes me out of the room and apologizes for his coarse talk. He held my hand and assured me that we would not lose another soul here at Westwind. I will never forget that kindness.”

“That is very kind. I can see why you would be attached to him.”

“You’ll grow fond of him too in short no doubt. That is if you are not already?” She smiled impishly. I was surprised that she would insinuate as she was doing.

“Mr. Lowood, as you know yourself by experience, is very kind. I will be forever grateful for him taking me in as he did.” Mrs. Whitby was hanging on to my every word. Only then did I realize she had no idea who I was or why Mr. Lowood had brought me here. Perhaps she thought it was for some low purpose and I was not as nice as she had hoped I was. Even though she was a servant, I did not want her to think wrong of me. Most people would not care what the help thought, but my father taught me that I was never to discriminate or judge someone because they were a servant. They were people just like myself with feelings and thoughts.

“It’s honest work and it takes discipline and humility to do it.” He told me in a gruff manner once. I stood up and grasped Mrs. Whitby’s hands resolving to make her a friend and hoping she would like me.

“You see, Mrs. Whitby, Mr. Lowood knew my aunt before she grew ill and died. I just recently lost my parents and I am still not quite over the shock of it. Mr. Lowood saved me from a horrible man, a criminal that wanted to marry me. Mr. Lowood has done nothing but treat me as he would a daughter and I am so grateful since I am orphaned now.” Tears sprang up in Mrs. Whitby’s eyes and she used the hem of her white apron to dab them.

“I’m sorry for your loss Miss. To think such a pretty young girl as yourself being orphaned. May God give you the strength to carry on.” She squeezed my hand and wiped her eyes once more.

“Dear me! I forgot the baking!”She turned on her plump heel and bustled downstairs. I hope I had done the right thing confiding in Mrs. Whitby.