Chapter Six

Shirley could feel them glaring at her every time she passed them in the hallway. Hilly and Beth. Milverton. Garland and his son, Luke. Even Mrs. Preston did nothing to hide her animosity. They were all angry with Shirley, even though it was not her fault. After all, Sir Joseph had insisted she become his assistant, and would not take “no” for an answer. How was she supposed to refuse and keep her place at the Hunting Lodge?

Not that they would believe her if she told them that. Not when she now wore nice new dresses from a tailor in London, functional and demure but still new and much more expensive than what a maid should be able to afford. Not when she had had her belongings moved into a large bedroom in the north wing with her own feather bed and a closet bigger than her old room. Not when she now took her meals at the dining table with Sir Joseph, Griffin and Lucinda, the latter two treating her promotion and its side benefits with confusion and perhaps a little suspicion. And especially not when her annual salary had increased so much that she only made slightly less than Milverton or Mrs. Preston did.

To the staff, Shirley was nothing more than a traitor who had left them all in the lurch so she could move her social status farther up than any young maid-of-all-work had ever gone before. And Shirley would not be surprised if they believed she had moved up while lying on her back and with her legs spread wide open. She would be angry, of course, but not surprised. Such an allegation would be patently ridiculous, of course. Only Griffin looked at her that way, and she half-suspected he only did that because she used to be a maid and not too young. Either that, or he was mad.

Still, how was she supposed to convey all this to her former coworkers when they held such resentment towards her?

The answer was, she could not, and therefore she did not bother trying. Instead, Shirley dove headlong into her new occupation as Sir Joseph’s lab assistant. Which, to her relief, was not heavily reliant on knowing scientific terminology or being able to discuss the nuances of what Sir Joseph was endeavoring to do. Instead, Shirley’s job consisted mainly of mixing chemicals, writing down numbers from the various dials and gauges on the machines—consoles, as Sir Joseph called them—and squeezing behind or inside the consoles to adjust or add new pieces to the machinery. It was time-consuming and physically demanding work, often requiring Shirley to arrive at the laboratory before dawn and staying until well after the sun had set. But then again, she had had a similar schedule and physically demanding job as a maid, so it was not too much of an adjustment. She had only traded in her duster and apron for a wrench and a boilersuit.

Even after she retired to her bedroom for the evening, however, her work did not cease. Rather, once she had cleaned herself up and changed into a nightgown, she would take one of the books Sir Joseph had procured for her and study the sciences. And while some of the concepts did go over her head, she found the reading fascinating. Many types of scientific study existed, for example: biology, chemistry, physics, and engineering, just to name a few. Though each was different in its way, however, they all relied on a method for testing and proving hypotheses, a method called the Socratic method. This method used trial and error to draw data and facts to either support a hypothesis, thereby transforming it into a theory, or invalidate it, thereby leading to new hypotheses and theories. Through this method, science could divine smaller details about the world, and then put these details together to form a larger picture, like pieces in a puzzle.

Shirley consumed this knowledge, eager to be of more use in her new position, and eager to understand what Sir Joseph would say when he finally explained to her how the Engine reached the Pure World and took its energy. More than that, however, she was just eager to know. While the circumstances of her life had kept her from even thinking about science, now her duties revolved around the field, and she found herself passionate for it. Indeed, she was starting to understand how Nellie felt about cooking. When you found something you were truly passionate about, you looked forward to spending your time on it, and enjoyed every moment you were wrapped up in it.

Along with the sciences, Shirley also studied the Theory of Forms, using a primer Sir Joseph had written himself. She had read that booklet front to back several times, growing more familiar with the theory each time. A theory that was, to her surprise, a philosophical one rather than a scientific one, but, according to Sir Joseph, it would become a scientific theory if the Eden Engine worked as it should.

Working by day, studying by night. Such had been her life in the month since Sir Joseph had promoted her.

That is, until one day, when she had been dismissed from her duties a bit earlier than usual.

Sometimes that happened: Sir Joseph would want some time alone in the laboratory to research or write, and he would let Shirley retire early. Shirley never minded. She could use the time to study more, or if she was let go very early, indulge in the luxury of a stroll to the Closer Village. Once or twice, she even went shopping there.

Today was another such day. Sir Joseph had dismissed her for the day and Shirley was looking forward to her free time. She had not even had a chance to decide what she would do with her afternoon, however, when she was accosted by a familiar and rather unwelcome face.

“Shirley!” Lucinda called, practically bouncing down the hallway to her. “Shirley!”

Suppressing a groan of dismay, Shirley plastered on a smile and said, “What can I do for you, Miss Lucinda?”

“Oh, do call me Lucinda,” the girl replied as she bounced to a stop in front of Shirley. “You’re not my servant anymore, after all. Or Uncle Joseph’s, for that matter. In fact, now that we’re of a closer social standing, we should consider ourselves friends!” She crinkled her nose. “Oh goodness, what have you been doing down in that laboratory of his? You stink horribly.”

Shirley, aware of her unladylike smell, sighed. For some reason she had not yet received, the Eden Engine tended to give off tremendous amounts of heat even when it sat idle. This explained why, on their first day at the Hunting Lodge, one of the chimneys on the north side had not been belching smoke. The machine warmed the far end of the north wing all on its own. However, that heat tended to leave Shirley drenched in sweat, especially on warmer days like today. And Sir Joseph, afraid that someone might come by and spy on his work, refused to open a window to cool the room down, which further compounded Shirley’s sweat problem.

No, not “sweat problem.” “Glistening problem.” Shirley may not be a lady, but she was of a higher standing now. And ladies and women of good standing did not sweat, but glisten. It was another change Shirley had to get used to now that she was a lab assistant instead of a maid.

But enough about that. Lucinda was expecting an answer from her. Shirley cleared her throat. “I was busy in the laboratory today. And I was about to take a bath before you arrived—”

“Well, that’s perfect!” Lucinda interjected, her eyes lighting up like the electric lights on the walls. “You go wash up and then join me in the kitchen at half-past-nine this evening. And I won’t take no for an answer!”

And with that, she bounced off, leaving Shirley agape. What the hell does she want me to meet her in the kitchen for?

For a moment, she considered ignoring the summons and just heading to bed after dinner this evening. Then she realized that if Lucinda wanted her to be at the kitchen at half-past-nine that badly, then it was likely the girl would wake her up and pull her out of bed if she tried to avoid the meeting. Either way, Shirley was going to be there.

With another sigh, Shirley slunk to the bathroom for a long, luxurious bath. As evening fell, she gave another sigh, put on a new dress, and headed down to the kitchen. There, she saw another familiar face. This time when she smiled, it was real.

“Good evening, Nellie Dean,” she said. “Have you been invited to this evening’s meeting as well?”

True to his word, Sir Joseph had found a replacement for Shirley and had her up at the Hunting Lodge within a week. The replacement, as it turned out, had been Shirley’s one-time junior Nellie. Shirley had been worried the younger girl might still resent her for leaving her alone after the deaths of the Avondales and the baronet offered her a position, but Nellie had been all smiles when Shirley had met her in the foyer on the day she arrived.

She was still all smiles as she ran over to give her one-time senior a hug. Shirley returned the hug, rolling her eyes like a good-natured older sister indulging a younger sibling. Which, in a sense, she might as well be, and glad for it. She needed a friend amongst the staff, and Nellie was the only one who had seemed genuinely happy for her when she had found out about Shirley’s change in careers. Shirley would do nothing to upset that relationship if she could help it.

As Nellie let go of Shirley, she went to the cupboard and began pulling out bowls and spoons. “Yes, Miss Lucinda brought up the idea and I said I wanted to do it.”

Shirley raised an eyebrow. “Do what?”

The door leading down to the cellar swung open and Lucinda walked out pushing a metal cart, upon which was a metal bucket with condensation forming on the sides and lid, as well as an oil lamp with a flame burning inside. “Goodness, it is cold down there!” she exclaimed. To Shirley, she continued, “Did you know the cellar is just one long tunnel ending in an underground cavern? It’s so far underground, it stays cold year-round.”

“I did. Mrs. Preston told me,” Shirley replied, trying to hide her confusion. “She said Sir Joseph’s grandfather had it dug that way to keep his wine cool.”

“I never knew until I volunteered to get the ice cream,” Lucinda revealed excitedly. “There’s no electricity down there yet, so I had to take the lamp. It was a little scary, but I believe I’m now used to it. In fact, I think it’s rather peaceful down there.”

“You…volunteered to get the ice cream?”

“Oh, don’t give me that, Shirley!” Lucinda replied. “I’m bored to death in this house and needed something to do. Now, let us enjoy some frozen treats and talk. I want to know what you’ve both been up to lately.”

Nellie enthusiastically began helping Lucinda scoop out the ice cream and gabbing about learning to care for a big house like the Hunting Lodge. Lucinda nodded, seeming to hang on the younger girl’s every word. Shirley only stared.

They’re friends, she thought. And now she’s trying to make me her friend, too. And she’s…doing work she’d normally ask a servant to do. Because she’s bored.

She remembered then the promise she had made to Griffin Avondale on the first night here, to keep an eye on Lucinda and see how she was doing. So far, she had not kept a word of it.

Might as well, she thought, shrugging her shoulders. Besides, I can’t remember the last time I had ice cream.

Shirley crossed to the kitchen island and accepted a bowl of the creamy concoction from Lucinda with a polite “thank you.” When Nellie and Lucinda had bowls as well, they all took a bite. As the cool, seductive treat contacted her taste buds, Shirley recognized the taste and grinned. “How did you know apricots were my favorite fruit?” she asked Lucinda.

“I didn’t,” she replied. “I just asked Mr. Garland to make some with anything he had handy. But I’ll keep in mind that you like apricots, Shirley.”

Shirley rolled her eyes but continued to dig in.

What followed was a pleasurable hour in which multiple bowls of ice cream were served and the laughter was plentiful. Nellie related some of the crazy stories involving her family back in Lambeth, which Lucinda said would make for a great Jane Austen novel. Lucinda, meanwhile, told them about an incident involving an ox and a candlemaker in the Further Village that had both Shirley and Nellie near shrieking with laughter.

And then Nellie asked Shirley what she was doing in that laboratory with Sir Joseph.

Fighting through her giggles, Shirley wiped a tear away and said, “I wish I could tell you, but I’ve been sworn to secrecy.”

“Oh come on, Shirley!” Lucinda begged, still laughing herself. “Tell us! What is Uncle Joseph doing in there that’s so important that he has to make having a ball impossible?”

“I-I’m sorry, I c-c-can’t!” She burst into another round of giggling. “Did you ever notice the word ‘can’t’ sounds kinda funny? Say it with me. Can’t!”

Both Nellie and Lucinda responded with chuckles. “It sounds so…unrefined!” Lucinda replied delightedly.

“Can’t!” Nellie repeated to raucous chortles. “Can’t! Can’t! Can’t!”

All three devolved into cackles, Shirley pounding her fist against the island’s surface. She had no idea why they were laughing at a simple word, but there they were.

Almost as if we’re drunk.

Shirley paused, the thought repeating in her head. Almost as if we’re drunk. Thoughts of her mother, dead nearly six years now, whirled through her head. The woman had meant well most of the time, but she had never dealt well with the vice of drink. In fact, there had been times when Shirley’s mother had acted as if she needed drink. As if it were essential to survival.

Shirley had never had a drink because of her mother. In the back of her mind, she worried that if she had even a small glass of wine or beer, she would turn out like her mother, moving from rooming house to rooming house every day with a small child and doing whatever odd jobs she could to make a couple pennies to support her habit.

But there was no way she was drunk now. She had not had anything to drink.

Unless…

Shirley turned to Lucinda. “Hey Lucinda,” she said, horrified to hear a slight slur in her voice, “this is just apricot ice cream, isn’t it?”

Through her tears, the girl managed to choke out, “Apricot and white wine. I-I am not allowed to drink yet, so I thought this might be a good way to have some without getting in trouble.”

Shirley’s mouth dropped open. While she had never made ice cream herself, she knew it involved mixing cream and the flavoring ingredients together into a concoction, and then using a grinder to merge it with ice. If white wine had been added with the apricots, the alcohol would not have evaporated away as it might have if the wine had been cooked with chicken or a similar dish.

In other words, all three girls had been imbibing this evening, and only one of them had known about it.

Nellie was similarly shocked, because she was staring at her bowl with eyes as round as dinner plates. “I’ve been drinking,” she whispered. “There goes my pledge to the Lord to never drink. What will Reverend Snow say?”

There was a pause as all three girls considered the repercussions of getting drunk off of ice cream. Then they burst out laughing. Shirley knew she should be upset. After all, given her mother’s history, she had every reason to be wary of drink, as well as any food that might contain it. But good God, she could not help it! Somehow, the whole situation was hilarious!

Good Lord, is this why Mum drank? To find laughter in even the most humorless of situations? Given her life, it would not surprise me. But what will happen to me if I keep eating this ice cream? Will I end up like her? Is this something that can run in families? People talk about drunkenness like it does, but I’ve never bothered to find out for sure. Oh God, what is wrong with me? I need to stop now before this gets out of hand!

Before her mind could spiral any further into worry and despair, Shirley heard feet on the stairs. All three heads turned around to see Mrs. Preston arrive. “What’s this, then?” she said, her Midlands accent out in full force. “Having a little party, are we? I wondered what all the noise was.”

None of them spoke. For a moment, Shirley was sure all three of them were going to be scolded, even though Lucinda was Sir Joseph’s niece and Shirley no longer worked under Mrs. Preston anymore.

But then Mrs. Preston smiled and sidled up to the island. “Well, let me have some,” she said. “It was so hot today, and some ice cream will do me some good.”

All three of the younger girls glanced at each other before Nellie pulled out a fourth bowl and spoon and Lucinda scooped her a generous portion. Before Shirley could warn the older woman, Mrs. Preston was devouring the dessert as if she had not eaten in months. A few minutes later, she was wildly laughing with the rest of them as she recounted her own funny tales of growing up in Staffordshire.

It would seem Mrs. Preston can’t hold her liquor, Shirley observed as Lucinda served the housekeeper another bowl. Having cut herself off, she was starting to wonder how she would extricate herself from this little drinking party.

Her thoughts were interrupted, however, as Mrs. Preston turned to her and said, “So, how’s it working for the master, dear?”

“Um…fine,” Shirley replied. “Nothing to complain about, Mrs. Preston.”

“She won’t tell us a thing about what she does with him in there,” Nellie remarked. “We’ve been trying to get her to speak, but she just refuses.”

Mrs. Preston, leading another spoonful of ice cream to her mouth, muttered, “Oh, it’s something to do with the imperfections of man.”

If Shirley had been holding a glass in her hand, she was sure she would have broken it in her grip. She had been commanded by Sir Joseph not to speak of the Eden Engine or his work with the Theory of Forms until he was ready to present his findings to the Royal Society. And Mrs. Preston had spoken about it as casually as if commenting on the weather. And after assuring Shirley that she had no idea what Sir Joseph was working on, no less!

“The imperfections of man?” Lucinda repeated, eyebrow raised. “What does that mean?”

Mrs. Preston finished her ice cream and burped quietly. “Excuse me. Well, I probably shouldn’t tell you this,” she answered, a mischievous look in her eyes, “but it has a lot to do with the master’s life and his dealings with other people.”

All four of them leaned closer over the island as Mrs. Preston’s voice dropped to a near-whisper. Even Shirley, who had enough sense left to realize this was not a conversation any of them should be having, was curious.

“For one thing, Sir Joseph didn’t have the best relationship with his parents,” Mrs. Preston revealed. “Not surprising: Sir Gregory was a tough father to have at times. Oh, he could be the life of the party, and he loved riding and hunting. And he loved this house and its staff, believe me. But he was only the second baronet of the House of Hunting, and his father had only come by the title when Sir Gregory was already in his twenties. To be a new baronet, just one degree away from nobility, and among all these other established houses, is a rough lot to be dealt. Sir Gregory was aware some of his peers looked down on him as being too new for their like.

“As a result, Sir Gregory pushed the master rather hard to be the ideal gentleman. You know, strong and powerful, always aware of etiquette, knowing when to display emotions and when to bottle them up, how much to eat of any dish to show he liked the dish but wasn’t a glutton. It probably hurt Sir Joseph that his father was so strict with him. He may have never felt good enough for his father, no matter how hard he tried.

“And then there was Lady Agnes. She was a lovely woman, but I’m afraid she didn’t have much of a mothering side to her. She could be cold to her sons and didn’t spend enough time with them. I’m sure you children understand that.”

All three girls nodded, though Shirley was unsure if Nellie really understood, and was certain Lucinda did not. Having had issues with her own mother, however, she could sympathize with Sir Joseph.

Mrs. Preston continued with her story. “I thought things might improve once he went off to Harrow and then to university in London, but he didn’t get on with most of the other students or teachers there. Don’t ask me the specifics, I don’t know. All I can tell you is, when he came home to stay after receiving his diploma, he was jaded with people and wanted nothing to do with them.

“But of course, he was forced to attend events and be part of society. Sir Gregory would not hear of his heir refusing to be social! So, he went to balls and garden parties and the like. Even hosted a few here, though he never seemed that happy at them. And at one of these events, he met Lady Wilhelmina. Wasn’t long before the papers were announcing their engagement and the banns were being read.”

“Was it a whirlwind romance, like they say in the novels?” Lucinda asked, sighing in that way young women do when imagining love and marriage.

“Oh heavens no, Miss Lucinda!” Mrs. Preston balked. “They hated each other with a passion. Couldn’t stand each other! But things were different back then. Parents often had to be consulted if a couple wanted to marry. Some parents even made the arrangements for the children and did not care what their sons and daughters said. And in this case, Sir Gregory and Lady Wilhelmina’s parents wanted them to marry. From their perspective, the two were a good match. Sir Joseph had his title and Lady Wilhelmina had her family’s business assets.” She paused, then added, “You know, now that I think about it, I believe Lady Wilhelmina wanted to marry someone else. She had to reject him, however. The lad was poor and had no means to support her. He would have been a poor suitor, indeed.”

Both Nellie and Lucinda had crushed expressions on their faces. Shirley, whose views on marriage were more practical, felt only pity for Lady Wilhelmina and the man she had loved.

“In any case, they married. And as I said, they couldn’t stand each other. They ended up having several affairs. Oh, don’t look so scandalized! Yes, Lady Wilhelmina was bringing shame to both her new family and the family she’d left, but she was lonely! Her husband didn’t love her, and I don’t think she was very happy in a house full of strangers. Sure, she could’ve done more to hide them like Sir Joseph did—we weren’t aware that his trips to London were to see other women until well after Lady Wilhelmina’s passing—but she was lonely. We should have sympathy for her.”

“Wait a minute,” Shirley interrupted. “You just said Lady Wilhelmina wasn’t careful with her affairs. Does that mean you know whom some of Lady Wilhelmina’s lovers were, then?”

Nellie and Lucinda gasped as they realized Shirley’s implication. Mrs. Preston nodded. “Three of them, to be exact. But I won’t tell. After all, the poor woman has been dead for over twenty years now. Why wake sleeping dogs?”

“Didn’t Sir Joseph and his wife try to get along?” Nellie asked, in a tone of voice that hinted that the survival of all her romantic notions rested on Mrs. Preston’s answer.

“They did. Enough to produce a son and a daughter. But young Wesley was born deformed. Yes, you heard me right, he was deformed, both in body and mind. Sweet as a lamb and as affectionate as a puppy, but still deformed. Died at fourteen with a face as ugly as a horse’s arse, and with the vocabulary of a small child. Some sort of fit if I remember correctly. He had a lot of those as he got older, though I’m not sure why.”

Hearing Mrs. Preston talk about Sir Joseph’s son in such a way made Shirley feel self-conscious about her own eye. She had to stop herself from reaching up to touch it—or did she want to hide it?—as Mrs. Preston ploughed on with her reminiscences.

“But then there was young Miss Emily. Oh, she was a sweet girl, and quite pretty as well. A proper lady if ever there was one. We all thought she would marry up into the highest reaches of the peerage. She was set to make her debut in society the summer after she turned seventeen. However, she died before that could pass.”

“What happened?” Nellie asked.

Mrs. Preston shrugged. “No one’s really sure. Lady Wilhelmina took Miss Emily to the seaside in Devon for a couple of weeks. Nothing unusual, many families holiday there. However, when she got back, poor Miss Emily started to feel unwell. Within a few days she was bedridden with a fever and then…and then after a week, she fell asleep and never woke up. Coma is what the doctor said. Nothing could be done.”

She sighed. “After that, Lady Wilhelmina became rather melancholy. And I don’t mean the normal rituals of grief, wearing black and retiring from society for a time. I mean, her behavior became rather disturbing. Talking about killing herself or of hearing Miss Emily’s spirit calling out to her, telling her mother she was lonely. Sir Joseph was considering having a doctor look at her.

“But before he could do anything…” Mrs. Preston sniffed, and tears welled in her eyes. “I’m not sure exactly what happened. Nobody is, really. All anyone knows is, she was in a bad state. Lady Wilhelmina loved her children, but she especially loved Miss Emily, and her death hit her hard. So, when she fell from the library on the third floor—”

Nellie and Lucinda gasped in horror. Even Shirley stiffened.

Mrs. Preston nodded, as if she understood. “I should let you girls know, there’s no proof she took her own life. Even the coroner was unsure of that. Not to mention, it was hot that day, and she may have opened the windows to get a breeze. But whatever happened, it was probably a relief to the poor woman. Life had been so cruel to her. An unloving husband, one of her children born feeble, and both taken from her within a few years of each other. I’m sure the moment her soul was released from her body, the Lord took her into his arms and told her He would no longer allow any pain or suffering to reach her. Yes, that’s what I believe.”

For a moment, nothing was said. The kitchen was so silent, Shirley was sure she would hear a pin if it dropped. Finally, Mrs. Preston sighed again and spoke with an air of finality. “In any case, I believe this is why Sir Joseph is working on finding the cure for mankind’s imperfections. Everyone in his life have either failed him or left him. ‘Imperfect bodies and imperfect souls,’ I heard him describe it once. ‘All of man is afflicted with imperfect bodies and imperfect souls.’ And so he’s toiling away upstairs to fix mankind.

“Of course, that’s a problem mankind alone can’t fix. I’m sure any number of priests and ministers wiser than me could tell him he’s chasing after windmills. Mankind is imperfect because of Eve’s folly in the Garden of Eden, that’s a fact. The only way we can make ourselves perfect is by following the Law of the Lord and being kinder to the less fortunate, but he still thinks he can fix the human race. And I fear he’ll work himself to death in that lab of his before he achieves his goal.

“Now, you all should be in bed!” Mrs. Preston’s mood, as well as her accent, changed from melancholic to proper in a second, startling all three young women. “Miss Lucinda, I’ll escort you to bed right this instant. It isn’t proper for a young lady of your upbringing to be up this late. You will not do so well in the morning otherwise. Nellie and Shirley—no wait, only Nellie. I’m sorry, Shirley. And I’m sorry for being so horrid to you lately. You really do not deserve it—Nellie, clean this up and return that ice cream to the cellar. Understood?”

“Yes ma’am,” Nellie replied, nodding.

With an annoyed sigh, Lucinda pushed her bowl away from her. “I guess that’s the end of our fun tonight,” she said.

“Let’s do it again sometime,” Nellie suggested.

Mrs. Preston made an objection about decorum, even as she swayed while walking around the island to reach Lucinda. Lucinda, meanwhile, did not seem to care a fig about decorum, because she gave both Nellie and Shirley a hug, much to Shirley’s surprise, and wished them a good night before she and Mrs. Preston tottered up the stairs and out of sight.

Despite having been exempt from Mrs. Preston’s order, Shirley came around the island to help Nellie with the cleanup. She no longer felt drunk. Just unsettled. Thoughts of Mrs. Preston’s story around Sir Joseph swirled through her head. Not even Mrs. Preston finally apologizing for ostracizing her this past month could fix her mood. Cleaning would help her feel settled again. Cleaning always helped her feel settled. Usually, anyway.

And I hope Mrs. Preston’s wrong, she thought. About Sir Joseph’s work being folly. I think it could really help people. I could really help people. Together, with the Eden Engine, we will make humankind better.