Chapter 12: Chapter 12

Somehow, Alice had managed to cajole me into a skirt. Again. However, I did put up only token resistance, and if I admitted it deep down, I didn't really mind.

Seth had said he would look for me. I desperately wanted to see him, if I could do so without triggering Louise's predatory suspicions. The notion of it was like a mission behind enemy lines, with a high probability of being executed if captured. Well, Seth wouldn't execute me, but he could hold me prisoner.

Alice punched my shoulder. "Stop daydreaming, you great lump of pudding, and let's go."

We headed down the stairs. The katana lay across my back, and I found its weight a comfort. I imagined it like father's hand, guiding me.

Louise spied us as we passed the parlour door. She reclined on the chaise, a magazine open in her lap. "What great event are you two abandoning us for? Tea at Buckingham Palace, or lunch with the Tsar?"

Charlotte giggled, then cast her gaze downward at the letter she was writing. It was a beautiful day outside, and I couldn't believe how they could remain shut indoors. They really were hothouse flowers, kept in a controlled environment. Even if they didn't want to hobnob with the locals, they could still get some fresh air. Maybe Charlotte could check on the sheep in the back field for me, though that was expecting far too much.

Alice paused at the doorway. "We are going to the village f腎e, miss."

Louise snorted and rolled her eyes. "Yokels. It will be games of guess the weight of the piglet, and who has the biggest marrow."

I couldn't resist that opening. Peering over Alice's shoulder, the words left my mouth before I realised what they were?a torpedo shot directly at my hopeful battleship. "I hear the duke will be showing his marrow, and it is rumoured to be quite the specimen."

Louise fell off her chaise, and Alice started laughing so hard she choked. Charlotte scrambled to her feet and tripped over Louise, who was trying to stand up.

"I need to change," Louise screamed from her place on the floor as the two sisters disentangled themselves.

"It's our afternoon off," I said, as I patted Alice's back, hoping she would breathe inward before she turned blue. "I'm sure you'll do just fine on your own."

Louise's gaze narrowed. "You will assist me to change so I can go to this wretched f腎e. I'm sure Lord Leithfield will find the whole event equally repugnant and will require sophisticated conversation to make it bearable."

"Afternoon off, sorry," Alice managed to gasp and we ran down the hall.

Yelling and shouting erupted behind us as they screamed for their mother and assistance from anyone left in the house, which I think was only poor old Stewart. Alice regained enough breath to keep laughing and tugged my hand as we raced out through the kitchen.

In the yard, the horse and cart were waiting to take us to the f腎e. Cossimo stood in harness, with Henry holding the reins. Magda waited on the seat behind. We burst from the house, laughing, and climbed up next to her.

"Quick, go!" Alice said to a startled Henry. "Let us make our escape."

He frowned, but gave the cob the command to trot on. Magda glanced between us. "What on earth did you two do?"

"Louise asked where we were going, I said the f腎e. Then she made a rude comment about marrows." Alice's fit of giggles returned, and she got no further.

I placed my hands in my lap and tried ever so hard to look serious. "I pointed out that the Duke of Leithfield was going to display his marrow, at which point things deteriorated."

I swear Henry snorted and his shoulders heaved in silent laughter.

Magda remained composed. "So they now want to attend some horrible country affair?"

"Yes." I nodded. "Apparently the lure of seeing the duke's marrow is quite the motivator."

Absolutely not, couldn't do it. I dissolved into laughter right next to Alice. Magda had tears of mirth rolling down her cheeks. What really gladdened my heart was to hear the whisper of soft laughter coming from Henry. I knew we would break through to him; who knew all it would take was a marrow innuendo?

I watched our grey stone house disappear behind a curve in the road. While I loved my home, ever since Elizabeth had sunk her claws into the property, it seemed a dark cloud hung over the once-happy residence. I laboured under her, but never for her. She turned my every act into one of resistance, as though I sought to overthrow her. Which I did. If I could remove the chains and shackles she bound us in, I would. Once we had been a close-knit family. My father didn't distinguish between servants and peers. He judged a person on the merits of their actions, not their place of birth. We all worked toward a common goal, to keep the estate running.

She had changed all that. She opened our arteries and bled us dry. Every spare penny went to buy fripperies for her and my step-sisters, while the roof needed mending and we needed to introduce a new blood line to our small herd of cattle. I saw the looks she cast at father, wondering how long he would last and what caveats he had placed on the estate. Stewart muttered about letters she sent to London and her lawyers. Was she trying to find a way to defeat the entailment?

A shudder ran through my body as though the ghost of my mother cried out. What would Elizabeth be capable of, if she no longer needed my father? Or more horrifying, what would she do if she thought he would recover his senses and ask what had happened in his absence? In my darkest moments, as I wielded the sword, I saw her face. If I could gather all the evil she inflicted on us and fling it back at her, I would.

We trotted around the lanes to the edge of the village. Henry halted the horse and cart, and we climbed out the back. He touched his cap and gestured over his shoulder, meaning he would take care of the animal first and find us later. Magda waved us away and joined a group of her friends, off to look at the spinning and yarns on offer.

It was the first f腎e the village had held for years. Our lives had been on hold for the previous five years, when growing oversized vegetables seemed irrelevant to the war effort. Then when our men returned and the pandemic struck, we double-locked our doors and slept with a weapon handy. With the reduced number of vermin sightings, hope returned with the summer heat. Rumours flew that London was now completely vermin free, with no sightings for at least two weeks. Unfortunately, that was not the case in the countryside.

In the bright sun, the green looked picturesque. Ancient trees lined the edge and spread their shade. Today the mown lawn was alive with chatter, laughter, and brightly coloured tents. A band played in the rotunda, and their happy music wafted and swirled on the air, bringing many a person to tap their toe as they stood to listen.

Months earlier, it had been the dominion of death. A brown tent held the dead as the pandemic swept the countryside. The only noise was the wind through the skeletal trees and the sobs of families. Brittle, dried leaves blew over the ground as the grass was ground into mud beneath our feet. Bodies were sewn into unbleached shrouds and bagged, ready for either mass burial or collection, if the deceased had someone to fetch them and supervise the funeral. Most of us were too tired, worn down by the constant weight of death.

Alice shook my arm. "Penny for your thoughts?"

"Nothing. Just wondering if Louise got her shoes on the right feet unassisted." I smiled. It was too lovely a day to ruin with my maudlin thoughts.

Alice and I wandered the stalls, played toss-the-rings, and watched Henry smash the strength tester and win a prize. Who knew Henry had it in him? He picked a turquoise silk scarf as his prize, and presented it to me with a flourish. Happy Birthday, he mouthed. I kissed his cheek and wrapped the delicate scarf around my neck.

People smiled, chatted, and laughed. Children dodged around legs playing tag. The village came together, and I earned a few stray looks for being the only one carrying a weapon. Call me paranoid, but I'd rather have it and not need it than the reverse.

A whisper shot through the crowd that the vegetable judging was under way and winners would be announced soon. We made our way to the heavy canvas marquee. By the mass of people inside, it looked like most of the village had turned out to gawk at our new duke. Alice and I stood on our tiptoes at the back, trying to see.

Rows of tables were draped in white linen cloths. Carefully arranged with military precision, and probably the use of rulers, rows of vegetables were proudly displayed. The growers stood behind their produce, chests puffed out and throwing taunts to the competition.

"Call that a carrot, Percy? No wonder your wife looks disappointed all the time."

Every variety of vegetable was on display, from the standard carrots, tomatoes, and potatoes, to the more exotic globe artichokes, brought back from Italy. The children entered their best efforts in the vegetable construction class and had made fantastical beasts and animals.

Frank materialised at Alice's side and tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. "His grace has made it, though the anaconda may yet devour him alive."

I thought we were here to laugh at marrows, not reptiles. Then the crowd parted and I understood. Seth looked his usual dashing self in buff trousers, crisp cotton shirt, and a fitted waistcoat. And at his side, glaring at any women within a ten-foot range, was Louise.

"She obviously managed to change clothes on her own," I whispered. My heart plummeted to my boots. Only two nights ago he had folded me in his arms and kissed me breathless. Now he stood with Louise as if she were his duchess already. Her breeding showed in her calm demeanour. Her nose lifted, as she stayed aloof from the hoi polloi, yet she graced us with her presence at this event. She wore a pale linen walking suit that looked brand new. At this rate, we would be selling the silverware to pay the Harrods' bill when it arrived.

She stopped to say something as they examined the contenders. The height difference required him to lean down. There was an intimacy to the gesture that gripped my heart and squeezed.

"The marrows really are quite impressive," Alice whispered. "Which do you think will win?"

"The green and yellow striped one, second from the left," Frank said.

Alice and I stared at the vegetable in question. It didn't look that remarkable to me, but then my gaze kept drifting upward to the tanned and dark haired man running a strong hand over the mottled skin.

"Really? But it's not straight, it has a bend?" Alice's comment made me flush, and I had no idea why.

Frank pulled his sweetheart a little closer to his side, brushing her hair aside to whisper in her ear. "But it's the biggest one."

"Boys." Alice giggled and then hushed herself as the people in the crowd turned to stare at her, ruining the pivotal moment.

"Ella?" A voice called my name from somewhere near the back. "Is Ella here?"

I glanced around as bodies parted. Reverend Morton stood at the tent entrance. He wore a crumpled tweed suit, but he had attempted to shave. Badly, but he had shaved. He clutched a straw boater in his hands, but he clenched the item so hard he would never get the dents out. His gaze found mine. "We need your help."

Ice shot through my veins. I looked to Frank. "Keep Alice safe."

As I turned, Seth met my gaze. He frowned, a question lit in his grey eyes. What could I say? I could hardly yell out, keep everyone occupied, vermin are on the green.

I shook my head and left the tent.

Outside, the laughter and chatter dropped. Only the occasional bird call broke the silence despite the people milling around, as though even nature knew and drew away from her abandoned creatures.

"This way," Reverend Mason said and trotted on ahead.

We headed toward the cricket pitch. Women scurried the other way, dragging reluctant children. Boys, especially, just wanted to get a good look at it and maybe poke one with a stick. Men had used makeshift implements?rakes, brooms, and a croquet mallet?to keep the vermin in a rough enclosure.

"Oh, God." The words choked off in my throat.

There were two of them. I could handle two.

What I couldn't handle was that one was only a child.

Not quite ten years old, blonde curls had once tumbled around her shoulders. Now they were missing in patches, revealing bright pink circles of skull. She wore a blue smock with embroidered daisies across the front, just like my birthday cake. A mother had sat up into the night to stitch each flower into the fabric, something for her beloved child.

"Rose Linton," Reverend Mason said from my side. "She has a mother and two brothers. They live on an isolated farm about a two hour ride from the village, at the foot of the hills."

"Original or turned?" I asked the question, but the answer stood before me. The child was too well preserved to be over eight months dead. Apart from her torn hair, she looked too recent.

"She did not suffer the influenza," the vicar replied.

"The other?" An older man in a far worse state accompanied the little girl. His clothing was soiled and torn. One eyeball dangled from the socket. I wondered how he saw. Given they were dead, how did messages make their way around their bodies? What physically compelled them to seek us out and not slumber in the earth? Or were they truly possessed by demons that used them as shells?

"I do not recognise him. He could be a sufferer of the original pandemic, but he doesn't match any of the outstanding males."

Outstanding males. We tracked them, we had to. Then, once I had dispatched them back to wherever they were supposed to have gone originally, we crossed out their names.

I drew my sword and the metal sang a sweet song. The larger vermin was the more imminent problem. It took five men to hold it at bay as it snarled and lashed out. Thankfully, the men all knew to keep their distance from the grasping claws. All it took was a single cut or bite to transfer the infection that kept its dead body upright. This was at least the semblance of a fair fight. I pushed away the image of the child. I would deal with the smaller vermin once this one was lying in two pieces on the lush lawn.

"Keep the small one away while I deal with this one," I said as I retied the silk handkerchief Henry gave me so it covered the lower half of my face. Then I entered the circle of men, and they closed ranks behind me. The vermin sniffed the air and turned toward me. It raised its chin as though peering down its rotted nasal cavity at me. Through the chewed out gristle, I saw a pink glint from its pulsing brain.

"A little closer," I muttered, waiting, my blade held poised by my shoulder.

It growled and lunged. As it leapt at me, I swept out my foot to deliver a low kick, and ducked below its outreached arms. Generally speaking, I didn't like to touch them, but with so many men around I wanted this one on the ground to minimise splatter. The vermin lost what little balance it had, hitting the grass as I spun. I rose behind it and my blade sang as I struck. Its head rolled away and came to rest next to a tuft of grass. One blow, just the way I preferred it.

"See if you can find anything on the body to identify who he was," I said as I left their circle and moved to the next.

"Is it supposed to do that?" one man asked, pointing at the twitching body. Its fingers were ripping up chunks of grass.

I glanced at what I considered a normal sight. "They take a minute or two to stop. Just watch that you don't get too close until it stills."

He gulped. Another man paled before turning to throw up over his shoes.

Dispatched vermin often spark a reaction in the others. Perhaps they sense death finally reaching for them. The small one growled and yipped. Little teeth gnashed as she lunged at her captors, arms flailing as they repelled her with hoes and crooks. They exchanged uneasy glances, as though not quite believing she was dead; perhaps she was just sick and feverish? Perhaps she just needed to be put to bed and tended to, until the fever passed. This was why they looked at me with fear and revulsion, and why I bore their burden. What if the vermin weren't really dead? What sort of person could behead innocent children, women, and the elderly?

Me.

As she spun in her pen, her blonde hair twirled around her and covered the bald spots. It, I told myself. It. Not she. Except I couldn't stop my gaze from seeing those perky daisies on her dress. She's just a child. A girl who probably climbed trees, stuffed yellow ducklings in her apron pocket, and tormented her older brothers. A child with a mother who might be searching the fields, calling her daughter's name.

A hand wrapped around mine and took the sword from my loose fingers.

"I've got this one," Seth said.

I did something I haven't done once since the very beginning. I turned my back on a vermin.

The snarling ended on a sharp note as the blade sang and silence fell. Still, I kept my gaze fixed on the tent with red, blue, and yellow flags tied to the guidelines.

"We need to investigate the cottage they came from," Seth spoke from behind. "I'll take Ella to Serenity House in the motor, then we'll move to horses for the ride out. Frank, pick three other men and meet us back there."

A warm, living hand settled in the small of my back and guided me across the green to the parked motorcar.

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