Arrival of the Traveler (Waldgrave Book 1) Page 32

  Lena took the tray and the garbage out of the room. Mrs. Corbett’s dinner order had been even more complex than her lunch order, and in addition she had asked for more diapers and baby formula. After she cleaned up the dishes in the kitchen, Lena asked Hesper if she would be willing to make a run into town for her to get the requested supplies. As Lena watched the car pull away and down the drive from the front door, the spring season making the rest of the world so vibrant and warm, and with nothing to look forward to but serving Mrs. Corbett’s dinner and processing the RSVPs for the year’s Council, she was again struck by how depressed her life was making her. She needed to get out, and she had no idea how to make it happen.

  *****

  CHAPTER 2

  Summer wore on and eventually wore out; in a perverse kind of way, Lena almost enjoyed watching the lawn turn brown and the flower gardens die. Waldgrave’s exterior was finally starting to match what she felt on the inside. Hesper and Eric had gone back to Australia at the start of August, and though Mrs. Corbett was becoming slightly warmer towards Lena, the best they could hope for was agreeing to disagree. Postcards from Griffin had been arriving all summer, which hadn’t bettered her mood any. He had decided to take his extended beach vacation in Greece. She hadn’t spoken to him since before he left, and he wasn’t answering her calls—Lena suspected that he was as fed up with his mother as she was. He was due back any day, as it was only two and a half weeks until Council was in again; the first families were expected to arrive the following week.

  Her seventeenth birthday had been somewhat anticlimactic after the plane tickets the year before, but it had been nice to have Hesper, Eric, and little Maren there to share it. She had received cards from all of the usual families, one signed by the entire Colburn staff, and one specifically from Devin. He had stuck some dry-pressed flowers into the middle.

  Flowers for my uptown girl.

  Happy Birthday, Dev

  It was very nice, and had even raised her spirits for a few days, but in the end she was still living at Waldgrave, scrubbing out Mrs. Corbett’s bathtub because she didn’t trust anyone else in the room, and that thought alone depressed her so much that she began to lose track of time. Every day was the same as the last, and it all blurred together too easily. The year had gone by far too quickly and uneventfully, and Lena knew she had to be going crazy the day she was happy to be spending time with her grandfather.

  “I’ll be requiring new suits this year, Howard.” He said, clearing his throat and staring expectantly.

  Howard carefully folded his hands on the table. “Are you making an announcement of some sort?”

  Lena looked up from her cheese broccoli soup at her grandfather, who was making a face that was all too innocent.

  “No. I merely require new suits; I trust you can make the necessary arrangements?” Master Daray asked.

  Howard’s eyes went slightly squinty; he suspected something. The other Council members would too, and it spoke of trouble. Excitement, Lena reminded herself, but surely a good deal of trouble as well. Anything her grandfather did inherently landed on her at some point in the future.

  Howard spoke again. “You can order them.”

  “I don’t want to order them. Only custom fitted suits will do. If it’s her you’re worried about,” he nodded at Lena, “Then why don’t we make it a household outing of sorts? Surely no one will object if we all go; it will be the exact same as if we were here.”

  Lena wanted to leap across the table and hug him; it was then that she realized she had been cooped up far too long. It was only a clothing run, after all. With her grandfather, of all people. But it was something to do other than sitting around, waiting on Mrs. Corbett, changing Darius’s diapers and dealing with last minute travel changes for various Council members—these were often hard to deal with, as the visas had to be planned months in advance.

  A few days later, after Howard had cleared the arrangement (though doing this was not easy), Lena found herself happier than she should have been to be crammed in the backseat of the sedan between her mother and Mrs. Ralston. Howard drove, and Master Daray gave an ongoing commentary from the front passenger seat.

  “It’s been a few years now since we’ve done this, hasn’t it Howard? I see they’ve finally finished the repairs to the road from so many winters ago. Lazy humans—can’t even patch up potholes in a decent time span. When I rebuilt Waldgrave after the fire, I used only Silenti labor, and the house was up in less than two months. Lucky the original foundations survived the fire; that did help. Of course, human-borns have always inherited the laziness and other weaknesses of their less-than-pure heritage, and I was constantly on them to get it done that quickly…”

  He trailed on from there about the details of the house and how much he hated humans, human-borns, and the general prospect of servants ever gaining the political standing they were recently asking for. Lena began to tune him out, but he noticed, and so said something she couldn’t ignore.

  “I made them sleep in tents until the house was done enough for the servants’ quarters to be livable. That was a harsh winter; I believe we lost five or ten to pneumonia and hypothermia, but in the end it was well worth it.”

  “They died?” Lena asked.

  “Hmm…from the cold. It wasn’t a huge expense, though. After the house was finished I turned all of them out. I wasn’t sure who I could trust, you see, so they all had to go. I took on a modest amount of servants the following spring, and even with the time it took them to adjust to the way I liked my household to be run, I still consider it worth it. Of course, I inevitably threw all of them out again when Thomas was murdered…lazy, sneaky, self-serving, back-stabbing rats.”

  Lena looked over at Mrs. Ralston, who was looking stoically out the window. She grabbed her hand and tried to ignore the biological relationship she shared with the man in the front passenger seat.

  “Most of the new servants were children between the ages of eight and fourteen given as tribute from faithful supporters of our family—“

  Howard interjected. “You’re done. No more talking until we get there. And so help me, I’m not above turning this car around and giving my recommendation that you never leave the house again.”

  Howard kept his eyes on the road, but Lena could see he was clutching the steering wheel a little too tightly. Daray sighed and turned his head to look conceitedly out the window. Five minutes later Howard’s cell phone started buzzing; he unclipped it from his belt and threw it over his shoulder in Lena’s general direction.

  Lena opened the cell phone and pressed it to her ear. “You’ve reached Howard Collin’s personal number, he’s unavailable at the moment, how may I direct your call?”

  “Lena, put Howard on.” Griffin’s tone was…defeated. Maybe a little angry.

  Lena raised her eyebrows, surprised to be hearing Griffin’s voice. “He’s driving.”

  “So tell him to pull over, dammit!” The anger in his voice was rising, but after he had ignored her for so long, Lena wasn’t in the mood to bend to his wishes over a little yelling.

  “Oh, okay, calm down now! I’m not going to—“

  An eruption of yells and expletives came out of the phone so loud that everyone in the car could hear.

  “Griffin, just take it down a notch and tell me what you want!” Lena hissed into the phone.

  There was dead silence on the line. In the rearview mirror, Howard watched Lena’s expression go from annoyed, to shocked, to devilishly amused.

  “Okay. I’ll tell him, and he’ll get back to you as soon as possible. And remember, soap on a rope is your friend.” She clicked the phone shut, smiling as Howard hadn’t seen her do in several months.

  “What?” Howard glanced back up into the rearview several times to try and keep eye contact.

  Lena handed the cell phone back to the front, still looking far too happy, and Howard reattached it to his belt. “Griffin’s being held in a slammer in New York and needs you to post
bail.”

  Ava grabbed her arm. “What?!”

  Master Daray spun as far around in his seat as he could without undoing his seatbelt. “Did he say anything about the relics? Are they okay?”

  “What did you do? What the hell did you do this time?!” Howard pulled the car over. “Out. Get out of the car now.”

  Howard and Master Daray got out of the car. Through the windshield, Lena and the other two women watched intently as Daray calmly explained something and Howard went red in the face. Then it was Howard’s turn to talk…or yell, as the case may have been.

  “Is he okay?” Mrs. Ralston whispered. “Griffin?”

  Lena looked over at Mrs. Ralston. Her eyes gave nothing away that she was concerned; Lena wished she had the power to seem so calm. “He’s a little miffed that he’s in jail, but I think he’s okay. He picked a fight with some guy in customs when he tried to confiscate one of the relics…apparently there were seeds in it, or something organic. So yeah, now he’s in jail, and I guess he needs someone to bail him out.”

  Lena’s eyes went back to the drama unfolding in front of the car. Howard was holding his cell phone to his ear with one hand and making animated gestures as he talked with the other. Lena wasn’t sure who he was talking to, but the conversation was very brief. The two men got back in the car, and without anyone saying anything, they continued to drive to their shopping destination.

  The shopping was similarly curt as far as verbal communication went, and Howard was looking the way he usually did when a load of unnecessary paperwork landed on his desk. Mrs. Ralston took the opportunity to fit Lena for new formal wear, and Ava bought herself some new dresses. The car ride home was silent, but as soon as they were in the door Howard asked Lena up to his office.

  He sat down at his desk and immediately put his cell phone down and rubbed his head like he had a really bad hangover. He sighed deeply then looked up at Lena. “Okay, so here’s where we stand. I haven’t told the Council yet, because it would have looked too suspicious that it happened while we were out and away, and I’m absolutely sure this part of Griffin’s excursion wasn’t planned. So if anyone asks, I didn’t get that phone call until we were back. Greg Mason’s been on the phone trying to get a hold of one of Griffin’s cousins to post the bail for him, if he even has cousins, but he hasn’t called back yet.”

  “Why a cousin?” Lena settled into a chair in front of the desk; she knew it was a big deal, but Howard was acting unusually perturbed.

  “Well, I’m sure you know that we try to fly under the radar, and we don’t want someone random posting bail because it might be cause for attention. We think he’s got a cousin through his mother’s side who’s old enough to do it, but we’re not sure where he is because he’s in hiding…the way Griffin was and the way several others are. It’s…complicated, to say the least.”

  Howard’s cell phone started buzzing again, and Howard answered it. “Greg, please tell me…Huh. You’re kidding, right? An American would be better, but…okay. Sure.” Howard grabbed a notepad and a pen and started writing something down. “You’re sure the birth records and the marriage licenses are on the books, in case they check? …Okay. Thanks for your help.”

  Howard closed the phone, set it down, and continued to write for a moment. He silenced Lena as she was about to speak by raising one finger as he picked his phone back up and dialed a number. “Hello. Yes, is this the Croft residence? …May I please speak to Jim Croft?” He paused for a moment, tapping his pen one the desk. “Jim, this is Howard Collins. This is an emergency situation, and I need to know the whereabouts of the Alarid boy. His father says he’s with you.” Howard’s eyes met Lena’s for a moment, then he quickly glanced away again. “I see. I understand. If you could please get back to me as soon as possible, then? Of course. Goodbye.”

  He hung up the phone. Lena couldn’t contain herself. “Alarid? Like the Alarids?”

  “Mrs. Alarid and Mrs. Corbett are sisters. Most of the older families here are interrelated somehow, but I’m a bit surprised that they would have sent their heir off to live with the Crofts…They’re applying for Council membership this year, and if I remember correctly, the Croft’s ancestors used to be the Alarid’s servants.” Howard thought for a moment, and then shrugged. “I guess it’s not that surprising.”

  “Political favor to assure getting in, maybe?”

  “More like ‘must be’.” Howard’s phone buzzed again. He answered it. “No, not here. New York. I’ll wire the money to his parents immediately, and they can send it on from there…”

  Howard gave all the details, and then hung up. He sighed, looking exhausted. “Well, I guess that’s it, if you want to go.”

  Lena held up her hand. “So…wait, Alexis Alarid is Griffin’s cousin? She’s never said anything…”

  Howard shook his head. “Historically speaking, the Silenti have never put a great deal of importance on the mother’s heritage because all the representation, until very recently, was done through the male line. I doubt she knows she’s related to Griffin, or if she does, that she cares. I doubt she even knows that she has an older brother, to be frank. The only reason we know now is because we asked and Master Alarid was kind enough to tell—he didn’t have to, but there’s usually huge political returns for doing this kind of stuff. Especially since it’s Griffin we’re talking about.”

  They stared at each other for a moment. Howard finally broke the spell. “I’ll see you at dinner, then?”

  “Guess so. Good luck with all of this.”

  Lena left and prepared for Mrs. Corbett’s dinner; she hoped Griffin wouldn’t be kept long in New York, as the woman was becoming more finicky than ever. She had stopped requesting fixed food and instead asked for things that she herself could make her own sandwiches with. She wouldn’t drink from cups anymore, instead preferring unopened sealed beverages. Darius was becoming more of a handful, and while he wasn’t mobile yet, Lena was sure he would figure out how to crawl any day, and Mrs. Corbett had warned her that when that happened, he would need constant supervision. Part of the problem seemed to be that he was bored with his toys and Mrs. Corbett was too paranoid to let Lena bring in any new ones. While Lena felt slightly bad that Griffin was in a jail somewhere, she harbored a small grudge that he had managed to delay his return.

  The next two weeks came and went, and still no Griffin. Howard informed Lena that Griffin had to make a court appearance, which had been scheduled for the day before the first Council meeting. Master Daray was almost as furious as Lena with the whole situation.

  With the arrival of more house servants with the other families, and the fact that they kept wandering unknowingly into her room to try to change the bed linens and clean the bathroom, Mrs. Corbett had gone from eccentric to near hysterical. She had stopped eating food that was “easily tampered with” and would only eat unpeeled fresh fruits and sealed store-bought goods. While it certainly cut down on the time required to prepare her meals, Lena was having a hard time justifying to Mrs. Ralston the fact that Mrs. Corbett required a fresh box of cereal to open every morning because she thought her old servants were sneaking into her room at night to poison the box from the previous day.

  Lena’s time was at a premium. It seemed Mrs. Corbett was mere hours from losing the last cards in her deck, and Lena didn’t feel right leaving her alone with the baby for long periods of time. She was doing Howard’s paperwork and playing all the social games she could to keep favor in the Council. In addition, she was spending as much time as possible with the kitchen staff in the evenings to keep her sanity and her sense of humor alive.

  The Masons hadn’t arrived until three days before the first Council because of a scheduling conflict with Greg’s job. Because there were only tents left, and Lena’s concern for Darius’s health was reaching a crescendo, she offered to let the entire family use her room for the duration of the Council and she moved herself up to sleep on a cot in Mrs. Corbett’s room. Mrs. Corbett was not happy with th
e arrangement, forcing Lena to lie and say it had been Griffin’s idea and it would only be until he got back—at that point, the rules regarding Lena needing to stay off the upper floors would kick back in, anyways. She wasn’t sure where she would be sleeping at that point, but there was a new baby in the Mason family, and they needed her room more than she did.

  The first dinner and the dance went as they usually did, and that night Lena got to sit through her first Council. Because she couldn’t hear the public thought speak used by Representatives addressing the Council, Howard had to quietly translate for her. Most of the first meeting was a summary of everything that was going to be covered during that Council term, part of it was ceremonial, and it lasted until well past midnight. The first order of business for the next morning was dealing with Griffin’s arrest; Lena wasn’t sure if he would even be back in time.

  After the Council, Lena found her way down to the kitchen, where she met up with Devin, Tab, Pete, and a few other staff members. She could hear them all the way from the bottom of the stairs in the living room. They were sitting around the table laughing raucously and playing some sort of card game.

  Devin caught her out of the corner of his eye. “Lena!”

  “Lena!” The rest of the table looked up and echoed Devin’s yell. Tab gave up his chair next to Devin so that Lena could sit and pulled a stool up between Pete and a staff member Lena didn’t recognize around the other side of the table. He was tall, lanky, blond, and perhaps in his early twenties; he gave Lena a small nod as she took her place at the table.

  Devin threw an arm around her shoulders and started pointing around the table. “Lena, I think you remember Jen and Phil from last year, and the new guy’s Rollin, but we all call him The Captain here. Thinks he’s a revolutionary. This is Lena Collins, a friend.”