Chapter Thirteen

The good news was, Albedo the kitten did not explode or otherwise suffer negative side effects. Quite the contrary, she proved to be quite gregarious. In the days following the second experiment, Shirley observed Albedo eat, play with string and wooden balls, explore the house (so long as Shirley was there to watch her explore), and napped. As far as Shirley knew, these were normal behaviors for cats and not signs that the energy of the pure world was disagreeing with her.

In addition, Albedo had grown rather attached to Shirley, and would only nap if curled up next to her mistress. Shirley found this behavior odd, as she understood cats to be rather standoffish, but she enjoyed being the object of Albedo’s affection. It certainly made up for the bad news, which was that the staff at the Hunting Lodge’s animosity towards her had risen considerably since Albedo had come into her care.

In all honesty, Shirley should have seen this coming. When she had first become Sir Joseph’s assistant, after all, the staff had resented her and wondered if she had attained her new position by lying on her back. The gift of a kitten must have only confirmed their suspicions, and they had wasted no time in turning up their noses at her when they passed her in the halls or speaking to her as little as possible when forced to speak to her.

Lucky for her, their hostility had not bothered her. Shirley was an unsentimental person by nature, and even if she were not that way, she had not known any of the staff well enough to be upset by their behavior.

It had irked her, however, when both Nellie and Lucinda had approached her on Albedo’s second night in her care, and had asked her, point-blank, if she were Sir Joseph’s mistress or fiancée.

“No, I am not his mistress,” Shirley had replied. “Nor am I his fiancée. I am his assistant, and that is it. The kitten was our latest test subject, so I’m taking care of her to make sure she doesn’t get sick.”

“You mean so it doesn’t end up like that piglet I had to clean up a few weeks ago?” Nellie had asked. She then cupped her hands over her mouth, horrified. Shirley guessed that Nellie had been instructed not to speak of the piglet she had cleaned up and was now fearful for her position.

“Just like that,” Shirley had answered. “And I won’t tell Sir Joseph if you won’t.”

This had seemingly reassured both the girls, and they had spent a pleasant hour afterwards playing with Albedo and discussing anything that came to mind. Beneath all the smiles and discussion, however, she thought she sensed some slight apprehension from both of her only friends at the Lodge.

Imagine if they knew that Sir Joseph was calling me “my dear,” she thought. Or that he sometimes put his hand on my shoulder. They would never believe me, then.

It was not as if she were lying to them, however. Not really. Sir Joseph held no romantic or sexual attraction towards her, she was certain of that. And she did not feel any romantic or sexual attraction towards him. Their relationship was entirely professional, a scientist and his assistant.

Except when he called her “my dear.” And put a comforting hand on her shoulder. Then it felt—

Fatherly. Yes, that’s what it is. That’s what it has to be. He feels fatherly towards me.

Shirley had never met her own father. Nor did she know his name. Her mother had never spoken of him and asking about him would only make the poor woman shut her mouth and retreat deeper into the bottle than usual. And as knowing served Shirley no purpose, she had dropped the question quickly after realizing she would never find out.

Sir Joseph’s kindness to her was what Shirley assumed a loving father displayed to his daughter. And she might have asked him if this was how he had acted to his own daughter, but he had shut himself up in the laboratory for the past several days, deep in research. He only emerged to pull meals on a tray inside with him and then put the trays out again when he was finished. Not even Shirley could get in to see him. The last time she had tried, the baronet had told her, quite plainly, not to disturb him unless there was some new development with Albedo, or someone’s life was at stake. She had not spoken to him since.

And so, life had gone on. Shirley monitored and played with the cat. Most of the staff ignored her or glared at her. Sir Joseph continued whatever research he needed to do alone. Nellie and Lucinda regularly talked with Shirley, and she with them.

The only thing out of the ordinary was that Shirley was seeing less and less of Griffin Avondale, usually only at supper, and even then, he was abnormally quiet. That was, until the first of August rolled around.

***

Shirley stood at the top of the stairs leading to the kitchen, waiting for Albedo to take her first steps on her own. The kitten, now around twelve weeks old and much larger than when she had emerged from the bombardment chamber, walked back and forth on the lip of the staircase, as if trying to ascertain what it was. She reached out a tentative paw, placed it on the next step, and then jumped down. Smiling, Shirley joined her on the next step and waited for Albedo to take the next one.

This continued for a while, until finally Albedo, who up until today had refused to go up and down stairs unless in someone’s arms, reached the bottom of the stairs and stepped into the kitchen of her own accord. Shirley clapped as she joined Albedo in the kitchen. “Good girl, Albedo,” she said, bending down to scratch the cat behind her ears. “I’m proud of you.”

“What did she do?” Shirley glanced up as Nellie emerged from the cellar with a turkey carcass in her arms. She laid the carcass in a large pot and pulled some onions and potatoes out of a drawer.

“Hello Nellie,” said Shirley. “Where’s Mr. Garland and Luke?”

“They’re on holiday,” Nellie explained. “Gone off to Somerset for some sea and fresh air, I think. I’ll be working the kitchens until they get back week after next.” From the grin on her face, it was only too apparent that Nellie was happy to take over the kitchen duties. “But what did Albedo do that has you so proud?”

“She went down the stairs all by herself,” Shirley informed her.

“Well, for walking down the stairs, here’s a treat.” Nellie threw a piece of turkey to the floor, which Albedo pounced on immediately and began to tear apart. As the cat enjoyed her meal, Shirley joined Nellie at the stove and asked her if anything exciting was happening lately.

“Not really,” Nellie admitted. “I got a letter from my brother about this lass he was planning on marrying. Turns out she’s run off with some musician to Dorset. Good riddance, I say. All that one cared about was what people would say about her looks. Lucinda has gone to London for the day. She’s grown a few centimeters and will need new clothes when she comes out of full mourning. And Mr. Avondale has gone down to the village—”

“Wait, what was that?”

“Mr. Avondale’s gone down to the village,” Nellie repeated. “About an hour ago. I heard him telling Mr. Milverton in case anyone was looking for him.”

“Which village?” Shirley asked.

“The Closer Village. Why?”

Shirley did not answer. Instead, she handed Albedo to Nellie, told her she would be back soon, and ran out the kitchen.

***

The Closer Village was a small but pretty collection of houses and businesses grouped around a main road laid with stone and a memorial to the men from the village who had died in the Americas. Apparently, a total of seventeen locals had given their lives against Washington and his rebels. The village’s biggest attraction, however, was a tall church of wood painted white sitting on a foundation of stone that had been painted white as well, which itself sat on a hill within the village that raised it above the other buildings. Walking around the church, one could see every house and person in the village clearly, so it was here that Shirley headed first when she did not immediately see Griffin upon entering.

From the village’s northwest side, she glanced towards the square and the war memorial. While there were plenty of people around, none of them were Griffin Avondale. She tried the northeast, and once again did not see her quarry. The same for her the southeast and southwest sides. Annoyed and disappointed, she returned to the northwest side and sat on the church stoop to consider where Griffin might be and what she should do next.

It was entirely possible that she had missed him. Indeed, he may have returned to the Lodge while she had been rushing over. Or he could have gone over to the Further Village, which was smaller and did not have a great church overlooking it but was still quite scenic and serene.

Of course, there was always the possibility that Griffin had gone to London with Lucinda to chaperone her. A young lady did need her escort, after all. But if he went there, then what was the point of lying to Milverton? It was not as if going with Lucinda was scandalous or anything—

And then she spotted him, stepping out of the village’s only tearoom and dressed for a leisurely day out. Shirley’s spirit rose and she stood up. Now there was no escaping her. She would catch him and—

She stopped as she saw who he was with. It was the dark-haired girl from the garden party who had been so enamored of Griffin. Victoria something-or-other. And she was wearing another bright-red dress and hat, the kind a lady of high station wore to look her best in front of a prospective suitor.

Griffin had been courting her. That was why he had been avoiding her. He had been busy courting this young lady closer to his own station than Shirley was.

Perhaps I was able to drive him off after all, Shirley thought, oddly despondent now. Why, she could not say, and she did not care. She turned and left the village as fast as she could, heading southeast and back to the Lodge. All thoughts of telling Griffin about the strange happenings in the Hunting Lodge and their connections to the Pure World had left her.

Right now, all she wanted was to get home to Albedo and forget everything for a while.

***

When the knock came on her door, Shirley had been napping on the bed, Albedo curled up against her belly. She sat up and called out, “Come in,” in a sleep-riddled voice. The door opened and Griffin Avondale walked in. Shirley blinked and rubbed her eyes. She had been expecting Nellie or Lucinda, people she could afford to see her just coming out of sleep. Quickly she sat up straight, threw her legs over the side of the bed and stood up. On the bed, Albedo let out a petulant mewl, as if she could not believe Shirley had dared to disturb her nap.

“I was not expecting you, Mr. Avondale,” Shirley said, sounding stiffer than usual. “What can I do for you?”

“I feel like I should ask you that question,” he replied. “Were you looking for me in the village?”

“How did you know that? Did Nellie tell you?”

“I haven’t seen Nellie since I returned. No, it was Reverend Fletcher. He saw you on the church steps and told me after you left. So, what was it you wanted to find me about?”

Shirley inhaled. Now was the time. She could discuss with Griffin the strange occurrences and their connection to the Pure World. Together, they might be able to get to the bottom of the mystery of what was happening in the Hunting Lodge.

But what came out of her mouth had no connection to the Pure World or the strange occurrences.

“I do not see how it is important anymore. It cannot compare to the importance of Victoria.”

Anger and confusion rose onto Griffin’s face. “I thought you wanted me to stop courting you. And why are you upset? Are you jealous?”

The question took Shirley by surprise. Am I jealous? she wondered. No sooner had she thought it, however, than she had the answer: she was jealous. Only a little jealous, but yes, she was jealous. But should she tell Griffin that?

Before she could consider how best to respond, Griffin continued speaking. “In any case, the subject of Victoria and me is now moot. She came today to tell me she could no longer visit with me or I with her. She even had to lie to her parents and say she was going to see a friend in Lavender Hill just to tell me.”

“No longer visit?” Shirley repeated, incredulous. “Why?”

“Why not?” he scoffed. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Lucinda and I are dependent on our uncle, who seems unlikely to pass his title and all that comes with it to me upon his death. My finances are meager, and I will not be returning to Oxford next month.”

“You did what?” Shirley was aghast. Griffin, Lucinda and their parents had been so proud of his attendance at Oxford. Deciding not to go must have been a difficult decision for him and must have made him feel he was letting his family down.

“What was I supposed to do?” Griffin asked, his tone even. “I would be penniless before I had finished the term. The only chance I have is to invest or marry and hope either opportunity proves lucrative. Victoria’s father is a baron, and while he is not opposed to the idea of a member of the gentry marrying his youngest daughter, he’s opposed to one who cannot afford to give her the life worthy of a noble lady, let alone one whose future is based on mere chance. And as much as Victoria fancies me, she is terrified of what might happen if she defies her father and continues to allow a penniless orphan court her. Hence why we will no longer see each other.”

“Oh,” said Shirley. “I’m sorry to hear that.” She meant it too, even if she applauded the two young lovers for putting practicality over sentiment or desire.

All her sympathy vanished in an instant, however, at Griffin’s next words. “Why do you even care about whom I court? As I understand it, my uncle places you very highly above all the other women in this house. Including my sister!”

A flaming rage surged forth in Shirley’s breast at the implication of his words. “I’ll have you know, I am his assistant, and nothing more!” she hissed. “How dare you suggest that I—!”

“Then what about the cat?” Griffin asked, pointing to Albedo. The kitten licked her paws while watching them with her big, blue eyes, as if this were a confusing but entertaining show just for her enjoyment.

Shirley groaned. “She’s a test subject I’m watching over,” she answered. “Yes, I think Sir Joseph intends for her to be a gift for me, and I happily accepted her—”

“Ha! See!”

“—but I assure you, the intent was not to court me or to…do anything improper.”

“Then what was it?” Griffin growled.

“I-I don’t know!” Shirley admitted in a raised voice. “I want to say a father’s love for his daughter, but I don’t know what that’s like. All I have to go on was your father’s love towards Lucinda! And I am not exactly sure if that was standard for most fathers or the exception.”

Griffin stared at her. “Like a…father’s love…for his daughter?” he repeated.

Shirley shrugged. “I think so.” With a sigh, she sat down on the bed again. Albedo padded over to her and slipped into her lap so Shirley could scratch her ears. She obliged the cat’s wishes, albeit absentmindedly. “I don’t know what else to call it. I know it is closer than just two people with a common goal, but at the same time, it’s not indecent in any way. Not like what you’re thinking.”

“I wasn’t—I mean…what are you two working on anyway?” Griffin asked after some flustered stammering. “What keeps you both so busy that you spend all day in that laboratory of his?”

Finally, something a little less complicated, Shirley thought with relief. And it gave her an inroad to discuss the strange appearances in the Lodge. Of course, Sir Joseph would be upset with her if he found out she had spoken to Griffin without permission, but given that every occurrence had threatened her life, she felt she could get away with speaking out of turn.

Before she could open her mouth, however, there was a scream in the hallway. Right outside Shirley’s bedroom.

Griffin glanced behind him to the hallway. Even with his face turned away from her, Shirley could tell what he was thinking.

“Stay here,” he instructed, running out of the room and towards whatever had uttered the scream. Shirley followed him out, her curiosity and worry overriding her caution. She pulled to a stop, however, as she saw Griffin leaning over the sill of one of the open windows. Fearing the worst, Shirley pushed him over and glanced downwards.

“Oh my God,” she whispered, horrified. Lying on the ground two stories below was Nellie, her body lying on the grass below, one arm and both legs bent at odd angles.

Without waiting, Shirley ran downstairs and jumped out the first window she could find before sprinting to Nellie’s side.

“Nellie!” Shirley cried. “Nellie, what happened? Somebody call a doctor! Nellie! What happened?”

The younger girl moaned and turned her head weakly towards Shirley. “Did it work?” she asked weakly.

“Did what work?” Shirley replied, her voice breaking. “Nellie, did what work?”

Nellie moaned again and mumbled something Shirley only partially caught. “…better. He said…better…”

“Oh my word,” said a familiar voice. Griffin, Milverton, Mrs. Preston, and Hilly and Beth had finally arrived, their faces framed with horror.

“What are you just standing around there for?” Shirley sobbed. “Get help!”

Griffin and Milverton jumped as if startled, before rushing off in the direction of the village. Shirley watched them go before turning her attention back to Nellie. “Don’t worry, Nellie,” she whispered. “Mr. Avondale and Mr. Milverton have gone to get the village doctor. You’ll be better soon.”

“Yes,” Nellie murmured, struggling to keep her uneven pupils focused on Shirley. “I’ll be…better.”

Suddenly Nellie sat up straight and opened her mouth. Black vomit spewed forth from her, staining her dress and apron. Hilly and Beth screamed in horror and disgust, while Mrs. Preston bent over to be sick as well. Shirley only watched in horror as she realized that the black vomit was in truth normal vomit mixed with blood.

Nellie swayed back and forth for a moment. Then, as sores appeared on her cheeks and forehead and began to seep blood, she fell back and into unconsciousness.